And now, I could see why.
A pretty bartender stood behind an oak bar, pushing out her big tits. She could have easily worked at one of the Lucianos strip clubs.
Maybe she did.
Instead of bar stools, several couches rounded out the space, giving it a homey vibe. This felt like somewhere the Luciano brothers would drink. Leather furniture. Humidors were full of Cuban cigars on the tables. Women walked around in skimpy, nearly see-through clothing. Like the club, the room was dark, save for a soft glow washing over the guests.
Over a dozen men drank at the bar. Some sat on couches with women who looked like classy prostitutes on their laps.
Bella swayed her hips to the beat and went straight toward the tinted glass wall on the left side of the room. Relief washed over me when I didn’t see my captors. Their loyal subjects would have tended to them like kings if they were here.
The hostess led us to the bar. “What can I get you?”
“Cranberry vodka for my friend.” Bella pointed her finger at me. “And I’ll have a Moscow mule.”
The woman behind the bar mixed our drinks in record time. I stood beside Bella, feeling out of place around made men. They wore suits and too much hair gel, the stench of cologne lingering in the air.
Bella clutched my wrist and guided me over to the window. “Can you believe this shit? Girl, I’m dying.”
“Your dad will probably kill you if he finds out you’re here.”
She nodded, hiding her face with the glass. “Let’s hope no one recognizes us.”
I stared out the window and watched people swaying their hips to the music below us. They looked like ants from up here.
A dark-haired man with an evil glint in his eyes moved beside me. His suit jacket brushed my bare arm, and then he had the nerve to wrap his fingers around my bicep. “Hey, gorgeous. I haven’t seen you before. Are you one of Angelo’s new girls?”
I shook him off and stepped toward Bella. “No. You must have me confused with someone else.”
I flicked my hair over my shoulder, turning my head away from him. But he was persistent. Yet again, he grabbed my arm and tugged hard enough that I lost my balance, falling into his chest.
A suit-clad arm came out of nowhere and peeled the man’s fingers off me. Nico pressed the barrel of a gun to his head. “Touch my woman again, and I’ll put a bullet in your skull.”
The asshole raised his hands, his top lip quivering as if he were about to piss himself. “I’m sorry, Mr. Luciano. I didn’t know she was yours.”
“Next time you think about touching a woman in my casino, you better ask me for permission.”
“I’m sorry.” He swallowed hard. “It will never happen again.”
Nico lowered the gun to his side and stuffed it into the chest holster beneath his suit jacket. Damn, he looked good in a suit. The designer fabric clung to his muscular chest and shoulders like armor made for him.
Then he snapped his fingers at a security guard, who rushed over to us. “If Mr. Romano comes within a hundred feet of the front door of my casino, break his legs.”
The guard nodded before dragging Mr. Romano out of the room with his head hung low in shame.
After they were gone, Nico stepped in front of me and cupped my cheek. “Did he hurt you?”
I was terrified but a little turned on by him. “I’m not your woman, Nico.”
My body hummed with electricity, palpable energy that glided along my skin. Just being this close to Nico did strange things to me.
“Yes, you are.” He slipped his fingers between mine. “And you’re coming with me.”
“No, I’m not.” I looked over at Bella, whose eyes were so wide they looked like they would pop out of her head. “I’m here with my friend.”
Nico hooked his arm around me, his eyes on Bella. “Miss Parisi, how are you enjoying your night at Spazio?”
She stood straighter at the sound of his voice, eating up his attention. “Oh, it’s awesome. Thank you, Mr. Luciano.”