“You didn’t tell me you found a new job,” I say.
She forces a smile and is quick to correct me. “Yeah, I just started the other day.”
“What’s the place? We’ll stop by for drinks sometime,” Luka says.
I reach for my glass of water, my mouth dry. I’d love to stop by wherever she’s working and tease the hell out of her. Flirt. Seduce.
“Moretti’s,” she says.
I choke on my water and place the glass hard on the table. Is she bartending at Antonio Moretti’s bar? He runs the Italian Mafia! “You’re not working forhim.” My tone drips with disgust.
“What? Why not?”
I can’t even look at Luka or Hannah. However, I feel their heated stares piercing through me. I nod for Sadie to accompany me, away from the table with our friends.
Her brow tightens, and she places her cloth napkin on the table as she stands. She accompanies me to the back of the restaurant in the hallway, just outside the bathroom.
“You can’t work for Antonio Moretti.”
“Do you know him?” Sadie asks. The girl has no idea how deep she’s gotten in with the mafia.
“He runs the fucking Italian Mafia,” I seethe. I run a hand through my hair. My heart is pounding against my ribcage. Anger pulsates through me. “How long?”
“What?” she frowns, unsure of my question.
“How long have you been working for him?”
“Just a few days. I needed a job and saw that the bar was hiring, and they were busy. The pay is decent, and the tips cover all my expenses and then some.”
As if that will make me suddenly appreciate Moretti.
“No,” I state.
“No, what?” Sadie asks. She folds her arms across her chest.
“You’re not working for the Moretti family. He’ll own you.”
Sadie rolls her eyes. She doesn’t get the gravity of the situation. “I already work for him, Dmitri. It’s no big deal. Whatever you think he’s doing, the business he runs where I work is clean. It’s legitimate and safe. I’m fine. You need to chill out.”
She turns to head back, presumably to the table. I grab her by the waist, turning her to face me. “We’re not done here.”
“Well, I am. Stop manhandling me,” Sadie says, and shrugs out of my grasp.
She hurries back to the table, opens her purse, drops a few dollars on the table for her meal, and bolts out the front door.
“Fuck!”
NINE
Sadie
Who the hell does he think he is, telling me what I can and can’t do?
Dmitri doesn’t control me.
He doesn’t get a say in where I work.
Hell, we’re not even really dating! I’m fuming. My insides are boiling, and after I drop enough cash on the table to pay for my dinner, I hightail it out of the restaurant.