I gasp, eyes going wide.
“You’ve kidnapped women before?”
He shrugs.
“It’s notkidnapped, exactly. We import beautiful women from Europe for sale to male buyers in the New York City area. Sometimes, the girls need a place to land before meeting the customer, so yes, sometimes they stay here with me. Like I said, you wouldn’t be the first, sweetheart.”
With that, my mouth snaps shut. Obviously, I’m dealing with a pro, and clearly out of my depths.
At that moment, a manservant arrives with two delicious steaks, and places them on the table in front of us.
“Sir,” he announces in a formal manner. “Chef Violetta sends her regards. Two porterhouses with the chef’s special cilantro garlic steak butter, as well as mashed potatoes, creamed spinach, and honey glazed baby carrots. Fresh-baked bread will be coming right out, and of course, we have your house red from the cellar.”
We wait as the food and wine are served, and I inhale appreciatively. Goodness, this looks good. Once we’re alone again, the handsome man turns to me with amusement dancing in his blue eyes.
“Go ahead and eat your dinner, sweetheart,” he growls. “It’s delicious, I promise.”
But I decide to be obstinate. I cross my arms in front of my chest like a sulky teenager.
“No, because I’m going on a hunger strike. Once I keel over from fatigue and starvation, you’ll have to unlock the doors and take me to the hospital.”
Roman doesn’t look worried at all. Instead, he merely chews his steak and then takes a sip of wine.
“Suit yourself, baby girl, but this steak is really hitting the spot. Medium-rare, just the way I like it.”
Of course, my body betrays me at that very moment, and my stomach grumbles loudly with hunger. My cheeks flush, and Roman grins.
“No one’s holding you back, sweetheart. That entire filet is yours.”
Unable to resist the hunger pains, I slice into my cut of beef. Oh wow, this is really tender. I haven’t eaten since having a stale bagel for breakfast this morning, and the meat melts on my mouth, the savory butter giving it that special umami feel. Goodness, it’s as delicious as Roman promised, and clearly there’s going at least one perk to living here: the food.
We eat for a bit, just savoring the meal, before Roman breaks the silence.
“So what did my son tell you about our family business?”
I chew and swallow slowly.
“Not a lot. I knew you guys had a bunch of clubs and bars because Anthony even brought me to a few, but he didn’t say much about the other stuff.”
“Really?” Roman asks dryly. “Usually, my son is more than happy to mention that he’s intimately connected to the Genovese crime family.”
I nod slowly, playing with my mashed potatoes.
“Well yes, I suppose he mentioned it but I didn’t take him seriously because you know how Anthony likes to embellish. I figured it was just more of that: hype, and nothing else.”
Roman chuckles deep in his chest, making me go hot inside.
“That would be an understatement,” the huge man says in a dry tone. “My son is definitely the worst type of hype beast.”
But then, I put down my fork and look at his strong features.
“But why are you even in the business of trafficking women? What drew you to the trade?”
Roman looks thoughtful.
“That’s a good question, and a lot of things have changed throughout the years. When I first got into the bar and club scene, my establishments were mediocre. They were okay, with decent furnishings and a dull crowd. Junior lawyers and bankers, if you will.”
I stare at him.