“Just sit back down, Cherry,” Aaron snarls.
“Are you serious?” It’s anger. Definitely anger.
“Sit the fuck down!” He balls his hand into a fist again, and I stare at him incredulously.
This can’t be happening.
Before I can say anything else, the bartender intervenes.
“I think it’s time for you to go.” He drops a bill in front of Aaron. “Pay up and get out.”
“I didn’t fucking do anything!” Aaron yells and points to the tall man. “That asshole is the one who should go.”
“I tried to apologize to you, dude,” Antony replies.
“Fuck you!”
“I think I’ll just leave,” I say as I grab my purse from the back of the barstool. I take a step away, intending to grab cash from my purse to cover my tab, but of course I have no cash because I used it all for the cover charge. I pull out a credit card, knowing I’ll now have to wait for the bartender to bring my card back.
“Yours is on the house,” he tells me. “You deserve a break for putting up with this asshole.”
“Oh, no! You don’t have to do that!”
“You want someone to walk you out?” the bartender asks, still ignoring Aaron’s protests.
Before I can answer, a deep, calm voice speaks from right beside me.
“Hang for a minute, please.”
I startle and then look up to find the dark-haired, square-jawed VIP standing next to me. He’s tall, has deep blue eyes, and just the right amount of sexy five o’clock shadow. All thoughts of Aaron and his douchebag actions completely dissipate. The new man is literally sex incarnate, and all I can do is stare. He offers me a crooked half smile, and my stomach does a somersault. My throat goes dry, my heart beats faster, and I nearly drop my purse.
Holy fuck.
Chapter 4—Family Meeting
This is it.
I lean back in the chair, sighing loudly and trying not to fiddle with my diamond cufflinks or fidget in my seat. The chair doesn’t feel right on my ass, and the grand mahogany desk in front of me feels too far away. It’s nearly devoid of decoration save an ornate desk clock and a gold-plated cup full of pens. If I scoot the chair a little closer, I can almost reach the opposite side of the huge desk. This is Pops’ chair, and I’m not supposed to sit here under any circumstances. Well, that’s how it used to be anyway.
All of that has changed now.
My father ran the Orso family business with a ruthlessness that only comes from extreme greed, and he taught my brother Micha and me the same cruel lessons he taught his rivals. Take no prisoners. Show no mercy. Get anything and everything you can, especially if you can fuck over your competition in the process. He gave the orders, and we followed them—no matter what.
Now I’m on the other side of the desk, giving the orders.
I’m not supposed to be the person in this chair. I wasn’t given the leadership lessons my brother was inundated with since he was a small child. I was taught to maintain family loyalty, kick ass, and do whatever my brother told me to do, but now he’s gone.
Not just gone. Micha was murdered.
I look around the room, conducting a silent roll call of those around me.
Standing near the closed door is my cousin, Antony Orso. He’s tall, blond, and full of muscles. If the Nazis had won World War II, he’d look perfect on one of their recruitment posters, regardless of our Italian heritage. If he’d been around during the forties and fought for the Allies, his stare would have caused any SS officer to shit his pants. On the inside, he’s friendly and generous. He’ll slip a random homeless guy a twenty or a sandwich more often than not, and if there’s a little old lady around, he’ll offer his arm to help her across the street. He uses his looks to get what he needs and rarely lays a hand on anyone in anger.
Not at first, anyway.
In front of Antony, Twos and Threes sit next to each other on the couch. Those aren’t their real names, of course. Tawny and Trey Thrace have worked for my family since they were teenagers, and the twin brother and sister are rarely seen apart unless their dirty work requires it. Though obviously fraternal, they do look a lot alike. Both of them are slender with dark complexions and the inability to stay still for more than a few moments. Tawny is the queen of manipulation and seduction, and Trey’s eyes always hold a devilish gleam. Years ago, Antony jokingly pointed out that three sixes were the sign of Satan, but Trey was only half devil, earning him the nickname “Threes.” Since then, that’s what everyone has called him. Tawny, as his twin sister, immediately became known as “Twos” simply because of their relationship. Twos and Threes fit very nicely in the gambling community and spend much of their time running the family’s illegal gambling establishments.
They cheat a lot, and the house always wins.
I glance left to see my aunt, Kathrine Orso, sitting on a wooden office chair, back straight with a clipboard and pen at the ready. I never knew my real mother—she died shortly after I was born—and as my father’s sister-in-law, Kate has often been shoved into the role of surrogate. Her greying hair is usually falling out of the clip in the back, and her eye makeup is always smudged. She’ll tell me things other people won’t, which is sometimes an advantage. She’s been the family accountant since my grandfather was running the business.
This is my team.
My sister Nora is—as usual—absent. So is Jack, her husband, but that’s for the best. There are a host of other cousins not in attendance, but they aren’t the core family, and their presence isn’t demanded.
Only one other figure graces the room with his presence. On my far right, leaning against the credenza with his arms folded across his chest and a scowl on his face, stands my father. Pops ran this business with an iron fist and a keen eye for business opportunities until last week when the business was officially passed down to me.
His second choice to run the family business.
Family. I mull the word around in my head a bit. Is it still a family business? Without Micha, it doesn’t feel like a family anymore. He had been my father’s favorite and the natural choice for this role I’ve been shoved into without preparation. My father doesn’t want me here—in this seat—but he has been left without a choice.
I look away from him quickly, scanning the room once more. The twins are beginning to fidget, and I realize I’ve been quiet far too long. Regardless, the words don’t appear to be forming in my head or on my tongue, and it’s Kate who breaks the silence.
“Nataniele, we all just want you to know how sorry we are—”
“Stop.” I hold up a hand, not wanting to hear any more. “Everything is fine. It’s all going to look a little different, but it’s still business as usual, and this is a business meeting. Let’s keep it professional, got it?”
“Of course, Nate.”
“Got it, boss.” Antony gives me a half smile.
The word “boss” rings in my ears for a few seconds, and I’m trying to figure out why he’s answering my question by talking to my father, but Pops doesn’t flinch. He just looks at me with his eyebrows raised until I realize Antony is talking to me, not him.
I’m the boss now.