Bastiano Romano: A Standalone Mafia Romance Novel (The Five Syndicates Book 4) by Parker S. Huntington (13)

Nerves shimmied along the length of my spine, taunting me with each passing second. In all of my years undercover, this was the first cover that had me feeling woefully under-qualified. And I was under as my real name. As myself.

Well, as much of myself as I’d ever been.

“Ari.” Graham stuck his hand out for me to shake. His blue eyes were welcoming, and his cropped dirty blonde hair reminded me of the California beaches I used to sunbathe at during my time at Degory University.

He looked exactly as handsome as he did in the picture in his file, courtesy of the New York DMV. Hell, everyone who worked here looked like they moonlit as models. It was an unspoken job requirement.

My eyes darted around L’Oscurità, searching for and failing to find Bastian before I planted my palm in Graham’s hand and gave an Oscar-worthy fake smile. “Nice to see you again.”

Graham had been training me over the two days since Bastian had given me the L’Oscurità Bartending Crash Course: Asshole Edition, and I was convinced he had a bit of a crush on me. I wasn’t sure why. I’d done nothing to lead him on, and whenever he’d tried to steer the conversation away from work, I’d done my best to keep us on track.

Graham followed my wandering eyes across the room. “Still got the first day jitters?” A friendly smile eclipsed his face. His eyes crinkled in a knowing look. “I had them for a month. It’s a lot to take in. Trust me, I was overwhelmed my first few days, too. But don’t you worry.” He let go of my hand. Finally. “I’ll take care of you.”

I didn’t know what he meant by that, but Dana had told me, her straight white teeth gritted together, that Graham would train me during my week-long training period. It was clear that my presence here irritated her. That might have been a potential problem, but I had the advantage of knowing everything about her that her file had to offer—which was a lot. The only trouble Dana could offer me was drama. That was nothing compared to the dangers the Romano family posed.

I was tempted to ask Graham if any of the upper-level Romanos were around, but I settled on a short, “Thanks.”

Patience was the name of this game. Most undercover work existed in tandem with patience. Legends were supposed to wait for something to happen, and until then, we lived the lives we were assigned as if they were our own.

Some of my fellow legends had even started families while under. It wasn’t supposed to happen, but when the bureau expected us to live as our legends would, it included dating, and dating included sex and—sometimes—love. Or babies. You didn’t need love to make babies, and I was living proof of that.

So, even though I recognized at least a dozen faces in the bar as Romano capitani and tenenti, I couldn’t barrage anyone with questions like a detective would. Subtlety went a long way.

The other side of L’Oscurità was where the Romano members wined and dined, but the bar side was where they wined and wined and wined and wined. Someone would slip up. Eventually.

“So…” Graham fidgeted, sliding a hand in the pocket of his black dress pants and meeting my eyes with his twin blues. “I have two tickets to an off-Broadway show this weekend. I was wondering if you’d—”

“Oh, I heard about that!” I cut him off before he could ask me out. “My bestie and I really wanted to go, but I’m on shift all week and the next.”

Graham frowned. “Two weeks? When are your off days?”

“I have none.” I shrugged, feigning ignorance.

I didn’t have any off days because I’d mouthed off to Bastian yesterday. He’d emailed me a schedule change, the alert pinging on my phone just as he’d materialized before me, a taunting smirk on his face.

A suggestive brow had been raised, daring me to open my email. I had, and that brow was still raised, urging me to challenge him. To finally cave and admit defeat. I didn’t. I couldn’t. That was pride, ego, dignity, and all the things that made us us speaking. Plus, he didn’t realize it, but more time at L’Oscurità only gave me more opportunities to take him and his family down. His downfall would be my revenge.

Graham opened his mouth to respond, no doubt to offer an unwanted solution, so I spoke before he could, “What’s that?” I nodded to the stapled packet of white printer paper in his hands. It was somewhat thick and bore the L’Oscurità logo on the front cover.

“A test. One hundred questions, a mixture of written response, true or false, fill in the blank, and multiple choice.” At my look, he gave a small laugh. “Don’t worry. We all had to do it. And it’s okay to get a few wrong.”

But it wasn’t.

Not if Bastian would find out.

Bastian preyed on failure, and I had no doubt missing a single question was tantamount to failure in his eyes. I didn’t know whether to be appalled or flattered that he expected so much from his employees.

That he expected so much from me.

Appalled, I decided.

Bastiano Romano appalled me.

My anxiety raced at L’Oscurità. I needed to control it, of course, even as I tried convincing myself my lack of experience meant nothing, my last name wouldn’t get me killed, and Bastiano Romano wouldn’t be spending his evening watching me take this test through the security camera diagonally above me.

The buzz of my phone pierced the silence. My legend’s phone. Not the burner. Yet, no one but Jenn had my number, and she wouldn’t call unless it was an emergency. I pulled out my phone, glanced at the caller ID, and tensed when I saw Jenn’s name.

Pressing the green button, I raised it to my ear. “Hello?”

“De Luca.” Wilks’ voice only heightened my panic.

He hadn’t called me after my meeting with Jenn like he’d promised. My eyes burned holes on the door as I resisted the urge to glance at the security cameras. I considered whether or not the Romanos had set up a microphone surveillance system in here and decided not to risk it.

Pasting a light smile on my face, I toyed with a loose strand of hair. “Dr. Clemson, it’s great hearing from you. I’m glad you were able to reschedule the appointment.”

“You’re not able to talk freely?”

“No, I’m afraid not. I’ll miss you, though!”

“Got it.” He shuffled around, and I could hear his breathing through the line—not as fit as he’d used to be. “Your cover with the Romano is very important.”

Okay… He didn’t call me to tell me something I already knew.

I raked my fingers through the tangles in my hair. “More important than the last time we talked about it?”

“More important than it was a second ago and only getting more important.”

I leaned against the seat and ran a hand over the back of my neck, squeezing out the stress while racking my brain for something that would make sense in the context of this conversation in case of a mic. “I’m sorry to hear that your cat is getting sicker. I know exercise is extremely important for animals. Thank you for letting me know. I hope she’s okay. Does it change our appointment times?”

Translation: What happened? Does it change the assignment?

Wilks heaved out a heavy breath. “Nothing you need to worry about.”

I let a forced giggle slip and rolled my eyes like we were gossiping. “You and I both know that’s not true.” Beneath a curtain of my long hair, my fist clenched the phone. “It sounds awfully urgent all of a sudden. You’ve always known your cat was at risk for… diabetes. Why are you going into the doctor now? Why not last year? Or a year from now?”

Translation: The FBI has always known about the Romanos. Why am I going undercover now? Why not a year ago? Or a year from now?

“There was a confirmed Andretti sighting in Manhattan. It’s why I had you doing this now of all moments.”

I immediately straightened up from the seat and dug my heels into the floor, forcing the freak out away from me, trying not to question my inexperience. “A vague diagnosis or an actual diagnosis?

Translation: Andretti member or an actual Andretti?

“Low- to mid-level. Non-blood relation.”

Usually, given the notorious border disputes between the Andretti and Romano families, this wouldn’t have been a big deal, but New York City was the heart and soul of the Romano family. There had been a storm brewing for years, and I felt stuck in the middle of it without shelter.

“Anything else I should know?”

“Our C.I. says there’s a hit out on an unknown big name. Higher ups in the Romano family are covering up who the hit is out on, but there’s already been at least one body that’s had to be cleaned. No concrete evidence. Just the word of our C.I., who didn’t see anything, but you should be careful regardless.”

I hadn’t known what I was walking into, but this was immensely worse than what I had pictured. This meant ironclad guards were up for people who already had their lives hidden below impenetrable layers of secrecy.

My eyes burned greater with the need to peer around the room for more security measures. “And the appointment?” I asked, holding my breath for I didn’t know what.

I wanted to be done. To be reassigned. I was torn between proving to myself that I could handle Bastiano Romano and begging not to have to. My stomach churned with the weight of my conflicting thoughts, and I was tempted to vomit the lunch I had eaten before my shift.

I’d chosen to be an undercover agent because desk assignments bored me, but I’d rather be pushing papers in a cubicle than buried in an unmarked grave somewhere in Jersey.

Wilks’ breath came through heavy on the other end. “Remains the same, but—”

Footsteps pounded outside the door, and I straightened up. “My boss is coming. I have to go.”

I hung up before Wilks could speak, his “but” lingering in the air like a noose around my neck, one whose knot I couldn’t unravel. Graham’s head peeked inside the doorway, and he looked both ways.

“I could have sworn I heard talking in here.”

I faked a guilty smile and waved my phone in the air. “My doctor called to change my appointment time.”

“Don’t let Mr. Romano see you with that while you’re taking the test. He’ll think you’re cheating.”

My eyes burned with the need to roll them. God forbid I piss off Master Romano.

Graham raked his gaze over me and continued, “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. No medical emergencies to worry about.” At his face, I straightened. “Oh! You meant the test. Yeah, I’m on question eighty-six.” I rested my back against the leather chair again.

Bastian’s chair—mostly because it was the most comfortable one in the room, but also because I could.

Graham walked over to where I sat, placed his palm on my shoulder, and leaned over my head to peek at my test. “You’re almost done? Damn, Ari.” A whistle soared past his lips. “It normally takes a lot longer for us mortal folks.”

I eyed where Graham’s hand rested on my shoulder. Unlike Bastian’s touch, it repulsed me. Bastian and I fought. We were never-admit-defeat cataclysmic, can’t-be-in-the-same-room-without-fighting disastrous, tear-your-clothes-off hungry.

What we weren’t was a hand on the shoulder. Obviously, Bastian jerking off in front of me was far less innocent than Graham’s hand on my shoulder, but it certainly didn’t feel that way.

Bastian was porchetta-feeding, verbal-sparring, eye-fucking, thought-stealing, breath-robbing. He was I-dare-you-to-fail unrelenting, fight-me demanding, can-you-or-can’t-you provoking, tell-me-you-don’t-want-me goading, lift-your-skirt-up taunting.

Graham was hard to get a read on, but I knew without a doubt he—and no other man—would ever be any of those things. Anything that set Bastian apart from other men only served to remind me how woefully unequipped I was to handle this legend.

The hand on my shoulder squeezed again. Graham was either super comfortable touching others or too comfortable touching me. The first was innocent enough. The second would result in a broken wrist. Depending on which I settled on, there could be hell to pay.

“Ariana,” I corrected. Boundaries were never a bad idea, I reminded myself, even though I’d introduced myself as Ari to Bastian. “No one calls me Ari.”

Wilks and Aunt Nadia did, but Aunt Nadia had breathed her last breath a few years ago. I’d been under at the time, but Wilks had allowed me to break my legend to attend her funeral. I buried her beside my mom’s grave. Wilks and I had been the only two in attendance, and he’d never even met her.

Maybe Wilks had been there for me. Or maybe he had been there to see if my legend could have been preserved. The latter still seemed more likely to me. I didn’t want to die alone, but I didn’t know how to die loved.

“Sorry, Ari.” Graham palmed his face. “Shit, Ariana. Ariana. Ariana,” he repeated like Ariana was the hardest name in the world to figure out. “Got it.”

I held up the test booklet, giving it a small shake. “I have the written response questions left. I should be done soon…”

Silence lingered in the air as I waited for him to take a hint and leave. At my dismissal, a flash of discouragement darted across his face before it was gone as quickly as it came. As if he expected me to fall at his feet. I kept my features passive as I reassessed him. He didn’t seem malicious, but many people didn’t until they unleashed their anger.

Since its creation, men and women had floated on and off the FBI’s Most Wanted list like it was the world’s most famous revolving door, and many of them had seemed unassuming to those closest to them.

If I had a dollar for every time the neighbor of a killer said, “I never would have guessed,” I’d quit my job at the bureau and buy a penthouse somewhere in the city. So, I let my suspicions of Graham fester.

Suspicion was always warranted.

Suspicion was always safe.

Suspicion was unlike love in those regards.

Graham stared at me a moment longer before he nodded. “Come get me when you’re done.” Just like that, an easygoing smile painted his face.

It sent an eerie chill down my spine.

100. Two customers walk into the bar. They introduce themselves as Aaron and Alex before ordering two whiskey neats. As the night wears on and you talk to them, you begin to realize that Aaron is Alex’s father, but Alex is not Aaron’s son. How is this possible?

I snorted a laugh. The rest of the questions had been about New York state health code laws for restaurants, emergency procedures, and restaurant protocol. This had Bastian written all over it.

“What’s so funny?”

I turned to the door, waving Tessie over when our eyes connected. Her eyes were red-rimmed, and she sucked in a sniffle. Tears brimmed at the edges of her eyes, refusing to fall past her long lower lashes. It wasn’t my place to pry, but the least I could do was be here for her.

“What’s wrong?”

She made her way to the seat across from mine, bit her bottom lip, and rubbed at her eyes. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

I took in her face for a moment before I shrugged, giving her space. Like I’d said, it wasn’t my place to pry. “Okay.”

Her eyes widened. “You’re not going to force me to tell you?”

“Why would I do that?”

“Bastian does. He says it’s because he cares. I say, it’s because he’s mean.”

“You’d tell me if you want to.” I paused. “Is he mean to you?”

She considered this for a moment, her head tilting back. The wheels turning in her head were practically visible. “No, I guess not. He’s mean to almost everyone else, but he’s not mean to me.”

I give her a teasing smile. “You’re lucky. He’s mean to me.”

“What did he do to you?”

Pushed the boundaries of my sanity each time we were together.

Made me question my chastity.

Made me question my loyalties.

Obviously, I couldn’t say that, so I winked at her. “For one, he just tried to trick me. Question one hundred.” I pointed to the test packet while I wrote my answer in the answer booklet.

Tessie grabbed the test packet, her eyes skimming the page before she smiled proudly. “Alex is a girl. She’s Aaron’s daughter.”

I quirked my lips and closed my answer booklet. I’d come to the same conclusion. “Smart girl,” I praised.

She shrugged. “Mama’s friend is named Aronne, but it’s spelled A-R-O-N-N-E. And his daughter is named Alessandra, but we call her Alex.” An uncomfortable look crossed her features.

I assessed her hunched shoulders. “Is Alex your friend?”

“She’s mean to me. Whenever I get good grades, she calls me a nerd. When mama gives me new clothes, she tells me they’re ugly. I don’t like to hang out with her, but I have to see her when she’s home.”

“She lives with you?”

“Sometimes. Her daddy lives with me, but she lives with her mama most days.”

I forced my face to remain neutral when the pieces fell together. Aronne was her mom’s boyfriend, and Alessandra was his daughter. The bureau knew about the live-in boyfriend, but we didn’t know who he was. Now, I knew his name. At the expense of a tear-stricken eight-year-old girl. If ever there was a moment to hate my job, it was this one.

“I’ll let you in on a little secret.” I crooked a finger, and she leaned closer, excitement wiping sadness from her eyes. “When people are mean, they’re usually just jealous.”

She leaned back abruptly, and her jaw dropped. “Alex is jealous of me?!”

I gave her a casual shrug and winked at her.

She settled back in her seat. “I don’t want Alex to be jealous of me.” Determination unfurled across her face. “I’ll just have to be super nice to her, so she knows it’s okay to be nice to me.”

I sighed. Tessie was so innocent, it hurt my heart. If only the rest of the world shared her mentality. I’d be out of a job, and I wouldn’t even mind.

“How’d you grow up to be so good?” I prayed that she’d stay that way. That she wouldn’t follow in the footsteps of her family. That she’d grow up, go to college, and follow whatever her dreams were rather than the ones her family laid out for her.

Oblivious to the terror for her future that shot through me, she shrugged and paused. “Wait a minute. If people are mean because they’re jealous, does that mean Bastian is jealous of you?”

I forced the negative thoughts away and laughed. “Oh, totally.”

“Spreading lies, De Luca?”

At the sound of Bastian’s voice, my eyes shot toward the door, and I took him in. No amount of time in the world could ever prepare me for seeing this man. It was sinful how attractive he looked in a suit, each of the three pieces perfectly fitted, his tie straight, and his rare Patek Phillippe watch barely peeking out past his suit sleeve. If he made his way to us, I’d bet I could smell the distinct, addictive scent of aged ambergris and oakmoss on his skin.

I hoped he didn’t make his way to us.

I glanced at Tessie, tempering the heat that threatened to eclipse my face. “It’s definitely not a lie. He’s jealous of me.”

Tessie squealed. “Oh, my gosh! Bastian was just mean to you!” She turned to her brother and pointed an accusing finger. “You are jealous!”

His eyes shot to mine, and his pair of treacherous orbs waged a silent war.

You’ll pay for that, those persistent eyes promised.

You don’t know who you’re messing with, they lied.

Say something else, they challenged.

I was becoming an expert at reading his face, but he was becoming an expert at reading mine, too. What filthy, forbidden secrets were my eyes betraying?

I’ve never met a man like you before, they undoubtedly divulged.

I want you, they terrorized.

In another life, I’d give in, they admitted.

I didn’t know where that had come from. In what world would I give in to my desire for a mobster? None. That should have been my answer.

“Aren’t you supposed to be working?” he finally asked when the tension between us simmered too high. His eyes narrowed on the space between me and his sister, no doubt drawing conclusions I didn’t want them to draw. A frown touched his lips as he continued to flay me with his words, “It can be an unfamiliar concept for… slower people, but it’s really not that hard to get.”

He drew out his words purposefully, as if I couldn’t understand them otherwise. “If you work, you get paid. If you don’t, you get fired.” He turned to his sister, who was beaming at me like she suddenly had all the answers to the universe. “This is a perfect example of what not to be when you grow up.”

And we were back on familiar ground, where he was the asshole boss, I was the illicit employee, and we ignored the fact that this job and Tessie liking me intertwined us when the last thing we needed was a reason to be closer together.