Bastiano Romano: A Standalone Mafia Romance Novel (The Five Syndicates Book 4) by Parker S. Huntington (14)

“I invited Ari to my party.” Tessie tucked a strand of hair behind her ear before her tiny fingers returned to the keys. “I like her.”

I tapped her lower back with my fingers until she straightened her posture, her shoulders pulled back and the melody already smoother. “Keep your back straight. You’re not a sloth.”

“What’s a sloth?”

“A type of animal.” I moved her fingers over the right keys on the living room piano. “What party?”

She still played the song wrong. “My half-birthday party.”

I stared at her. I couldn’t tell if she was serious.

My head shook as I mimicked the hand movements she needed to learn. “You’re not having a half-birthday party.”

“Why not?”

“For starters, they’re not a thing.”

She crossed her arms and drew her lips into a pout. “But you’re never in California for my real birthday parties.”

Fair point.

You’ve missed too many of Everett’s, too, my self-loathing reminded me.

I uncrossed her arms and placed her hands back on the piano for the millionth time during our lesson. “Fine, we’ll have a half-birthday party.”

She shrugged, and her fingers lifted off the keys until I tutted. “I already told Miss Luna to plan it for me.”

My sixty-year-old housekeeper Luna favored Tessie over me. Not that I blamed her, but she could at least feign loyalty.

“You’re not inviting Ariana De Luca.”

“Why not?” She played the wrong keys again.

I gave up on the lesson, letting her do it her way as I said, “She’s my employee not your friend.”

“Why can’t she be both?”

“Fraternizing with the help is a disaster waiting to happen.”

From her spot on my staircase, one of the maids narrowed her eyes as she scrubbed the flooring on her hands and knees.

Tessie tilted her head to the side and stared at me, one hundred percent giving up on the piano lesson she’d begged me for. “What does fra—fratur… What does that word mean?”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“I’ll look it up.”

“You can’t pronounce it, and you can’t spell it. How are you going to look it up?”

“Miss Luna will teach me after she plans my party and Ari shows up. I’ll show her my unicorn collection in my room after she tells me what it means.”

No.

Ariana De Luca would not step foot in my penthouse.

It simply was never going to happen.

I’d wanted to fuck her, yes, but something about her had me holding back. I normally trusted my resolve but not with her. If I had it my way, she’d be on her back with me inside her. I needed to trust my gut with this one and stay away.

“The restaurant,” I bit out.

“Huh?”

“You can have your party at L’Oscurità. We’ll close it down for you.”

“Asher would do that?!”

“No, I’ll do that.” I paused a beat and relented, “But Asher would, too.”

She flung her arms around my waist and peeked up at me. “I’m still inviting Ari.”

Clink!

Clink!

Clink!

The bane of my existence strolled into my office without knocking, a metal food cart clinking before her. It was day four of her seven-day training period, and she was already overstepping her boundaries.

Hell, she’d overstepped them before she’d even been hired, but I had been too busy overstepping mine to screw my head on straight.

“Do you see that wooden rectangle over there?” I pointed to the door and continued before she could reply. “That’s called a door. It’s for privacy. You knock on it before invading someone’s personal space.”

She pushed the cart until it rested beside my desk and met my eyes. “Oh, so that’s what that thing is.”

She was infuriating.

Infuriatingly beautiful.

Infuriatingly witty.

Infuriatingly off-limits.

I closed my browser as she set my lunch on my desk. “You’re testing my patience.”

“I wasn’t aware you had any.”

I gestured between us. “What do you call this?”

“Inadequately rewarded labor.”

I leaned back in my chair, eyeing Ariana. This was the woman my baby sister was smitten with. An irritating infatuation I wanted to snap between my fingers like a broken pencil. I’d sprinkle the remains over Ariana’s food and feed it to her for lunch.

Ariana De Luca was all curves, backbone, and guts. I saw the appeal. Truly. But after Elsa, I was done caring for women. Then, after the Dana rebound turned fiasco, I was done fucking my employees, and Ariana simply wasn’t worth it.

I tilted my head back, watching her set up my dinner on my desk. “If you want a higher paying job, go get it. I’ll—”

“Find my replacement by the end of the day?” She snorted. “Good luck with that.”

She was right. I still had the job listed on all the big job-hunting sites, and someone worthy of my attention had yet to apply. That didn’t mean she had to know that.

The corner of my lips curled up until I exuded smugness I wished I felt. “No need for luck.” I pulled up a random employee file and read, substituting my restaurant-side bartender’s name for a made up one, “Candy Lane. Late twenties. Clean record. Gorgeous. Dad ran a bar. Lots of experience. Speaks English, Spanish, French, and German.” I shifted my eyes to her. “I’d bet I could have her here, pen in one hand and contract in the other, by the end of the day.”

She paused, her hand stilling on the silverware she’d just placed in front of me. “What are you willing to wager?”

My eyes narrowed as she called my bluff—who the fuck was this girl? “What do you want?”

Her answer came instantly, like she didn’t even have to think about it. “Job security, my pick of hours, the shift of my choice, and a pay raise.”

Liar.

I didn’t let her words impress me as I raked my gaze over her frame and raised a brow. “Is that really what you want?”

She skimmed my body before her eyes met mine. “There’s nothing else you could offer me.”

I grinned, reluctantly, debating whether or not I could hire an actress to bartend for a short time—at least long enough for Ariana to see and lose. “Fine.” Hole, meet shovel. “And if I win?”

“You won’t.”

I couldn’t wait to drown her with her confidence.

My eyes returned to the screen as I continued reading Emily’s employee file, “Candy Lane is TriBeCa born and raised, has a bachelor’s degree in Communications, and is pursuing her MBA part-time at Columbia, which she assures will not get in the way of her bartending hours.” I cocked a brow at Ariana, noting how easy bluffing came to me.

She laughed and began pushing the cart to the door. Once she reached the threshold, she turned to me, a smirk lining her full lips. “I didn’t know Emily changed her name to Candy Lane. Would “Lane” be the last name or does the stripper of your fantasies have two first names? Like the Mary Jane of your delusions? Fancy.”

This girl.

I didn’t bother holding in my laugh. “When’d you make me?”

“It wasn’t you, per se. It was the file. It was obvious you were talking about Emily.”

“You’ve been here four days. How was I supposed to know you know Emily that well?” I tilted my head slightly. “How do you know her, by the way? You’ve never had a shift on the restaurant side.”

Something flashed in her eyes. She smothered it like cheap condiments on a curbside hotdog. “You know, your Royal Highness, if you’d leave your throne every now and then and talk to your subjects, you’d be surprised by how much you’d learn.”

“Are you telling me how to run my business?”

“I’m telling you how to run Asher Black’s.”

“I sign your paychecks.”

“Speaking of, I look forward to my raise.”

She left before I could answer, but it wouldn’t have mattered if she’d stayed anyway. I didn’t have anything to say. Ariana blazed into my life uninvited, infatuated my sister, and left me speechless. If she kept this up, I wouldn’t recognize my life.

Elsa pushed her way into my mind, the word betrayal tattooed up and down the milky skin of her arms.

Is that really a bad thing? I heard the ghost of her whisper.

“Something interesting happened today.”

I jumped, surprised, and the glass I’d been cleaning fell. Bastian caught it before it hit the floor, and when he handed it back to me, our fingers brushed and lingered.

I pulled back and scowled at him. “You shouldn’t sneak up on people.” I hated when people snuck up on me, though it rarely occurred. “You never know what might happen.”

“Worried about me?”

“Worried about my paycheck.”

“Right. Your unearned pay raise. Speaking of, are you going to ask me what happened today?”

“I’d rather guess—you finally grew a conscious?”

“Ha. Ha.” He tilted his body, blocking out the rest of the bar, where no one bothered to hide their staring, least of all Dana. “Actually, I asked Emily how long she’s known you,”—Oh, shit—“but she says she’s never even spoken to you.”

Truth was, I had read her file, and it’d been too tempting not to call Bastian’s bluff yesterday. I’d been sick of his constant threats against my job and, for the sake of my cover, needed to secure my place here, but perhaps it’d been at the expense of my cover. Oh, how I hated irony.

I leaned a hip against the counter and eyed Bastian up and down, my faked nonchalant confidence never wavering. Did the way he filled out his obnoxiously expensive suit intimidate me? A little.

But I didn’t show it as I spoke with a relaxed voice, “I never took you for a sore loser, Bastian.”

“It’s Mr. Romano.” He leaned forward. “Deflection isn’t your strong suit.”

“But it’s yours?” I took a step closer to Bastian as Dana began the trek over to us. “‘Deflection’ implies there’s something to deflect against.”

He leaned toward me, lessening the already small gap between us. “How did you know all that stuff about Emily?”

I cocked my head slightly to the side. “Have you always been a sore loser?”

“I don’t lose. It’s my tenacity you’re reacting to.” His eyes narrowed. “Now, answer my question.”

“Bastian?” Dana approached us from the side, her eyes drifting to the negligible space between us. “I was hoping I could talk to you.” Her face hardened as she shifted her gaze to mine. “Am I interrupting something?”

I took a step back. “No, not at all.”

Not at all, Dana. Not at all.

Before Bastian could stop me, I walked to the other end of the bar, putting as much distance between me and Bastian as I could without quitting, and ten minutes later, when I gathered the courage to glance their way, Bastian was still staring at me. A shiver trailed down my spine. I had a feeling he’d be watching me closer from here on.

I didn’t know how I found myself sitting in L’Oscurità during my free time. One minute, Tessie had come barreling at me at work, and the next, I’d agreed to come to her half-birthday party.

A half-birthday party.

I didn’t even know that was a thing.

I scratched the side of my face with my middle finger as Bastian stared at me from his seat across from me.

He cocked a brow up. “Real mature.”

So far, it’d been just me and Bastian to arrive. Miss Luna, the sweet Italian lady with the graying hair and chaotic choice of wardrobe, had left as soon as she’d finished setting up, giving Tessie a parting kiss on the forehead on the way out.

Bastian and I had been painfully civil since Tessie was here, but she’d left for the bathroom ten minutes ago and hadn’t returned. My eyes dipped to the unicorn tattoo on his cheek. Tessie had planted it on his face the second the party had begun, and I couldn’t take him seriously since. The monster brought to his knees by an eight-year-old girl.

Who would have thought?

“I see that look on your face, and I can assure you I am no less inclined to make your life at L’Oscurità hellish with or without this ridiculous temporary tattoo on my cheek.”

My lips quirked up, and I didn’t bother hiding my amusement. “Sure.” I paused a beat. “Interesting choice of words. Hellish. Do they let unicorns into hell?”

He ignored me.

“What I wonder is why,” I continued. “Why would you need to make my life a living hell? Do I bother you? I know you’re insufferable, but you’re more respectful with everyone than you are with me. Why is that?”

I shouldn’t have asked that. In undercover work, the only reason to get this close—to draw this much attention to myself—is if I have plans to sleep with the mark. I didn’t. With Bastian… I had this sinking feeling, if I were to sleep with him, I’d be ruined.

I wanted to say I’d never consider it. I wanted to claim I had enough self-preservation to tamp my lust. But I knew, if he were to make the first move, I’d give in.

Not because I had a duty to the bureau but because the attraction between us was the most palpable thing I’d ever felt. It was only luck that it’d benefit my job. The bureau loved its honeypots, and I stood in a place where I had an opportunity to discover my real self for the first time in my life. The only thing stopping me was him.

Bastiano Romano was a truly awful person.

I had so many firsts to give, and I couldn’t give them to someone like him.

He studied me before answering. “Perhaps they’ve earned my respect.”

“Avery Adams, the guy who wears velcro shoes on his days off because he struggles tying them, has earned more respect than I have?”

“A pity hire.” He shrugged. “Then again, so were you.”

I couldn’t believe half the shit he spewed. But this conversation was a one-off. The only opportunity I’d have to confront him on neutral ground.

So, I pressed harder. “Have you ever stopped to think that there are no reasons to treat me poorly?”

“Have you ever stopped to consider I don’t give a fuck?”

“You cannot be that insufferable.”

“It’s cute you think you can tell me what I can and cannot be.” He leaned forward. “You clearly have this grand idea that humans should be good people when the reality says otherwise. People are incapable of anything other than greed and betrayal. That’s a fact. Perhaps you should get out more. Your naivety isn’t endearing.”

I have been out, I wanted to scream. I’ve pretended to be a stripper. I’ve sailed the Amalfi coast with Swiss bankers. I’ve been to political rallies in third world countries, been fake arrested in Arizona, and lived dozens of lives through aliases.

But you’ve never lived your own life, I couldn’t help but remind myself.

And there was the truth.

I’d lived every life but a normal one.

Hell, I hadn’t even been to a movie theater before.

How could I?

Growing up, my aunt had never been home, I’d spent my college years focused on school and rebelling against friendships, and every year since I’d graduated had been spent under various covers with the bureau. I’d lived more days of my adult life undercover than as Ariana De Luca.

The tears surprised me. They rose within me and lined my lower lashes, but I didn’t let them slip out. I couldn’t give Bastian the satisfaction of my tears. No matter what, he couldn’t see my weakness, because he’d attack them. Of this, I had no doubt.

I felt his eyes on me as I failed to force down my tears. One slipped past my lashes, slid down my cheek, and splashed onto the table like a

“You look prettier when you cry,” he said quietly, almost absentmindedly.

It took a second for his words to register.

Was he serious?

Who said shit like that?!

I rose from my chair so quickly, it flung behind me. Amusement drowned those black orbs he had for eyes as I leaned over the table and got in his face. “Who fucked you up so much that you can’t even spend five minutes acting like a decent human being?”

Anger spread across his features before he tamped it down. “Being a decent human being is overrated,” he spat like the very idea disgusted him.

“Treating people with respect and dignity keeps us civilized.”

He leaned forward, and his breath fanned my face. “Fuck being civilized.”

I try to get a handle on my pulse. He was so close.

Leaning back, I crossed my arms. My eyes raked his body with condescension pasted on my face. “You may dress in fancy suits, style your hair with thousand-dollar cuts, and look like a GQ centerfold, but nothing will change the fact that you are a miserable person.”

I’d done it. I’d gotten myself fired. Why couldn’t Ariana keep her mouth shut?

You are Ariana, dumb ass.

Great. I was quickly becoming my least favorite legend.

Instead of firing me, he lifted an amused brow. “Are you flirting with me?”

Flirting?

He called that flirting?

If this was his idea of flirting, I didn’t want to know what his idea of foreplay was.

I shook my head, disbelief fueling every movement. “Never.”

A sniffle caught my attention from the restroom attached to the break room. I fled for the door. Tessie had gone in twenty minutes ago. Had she heard us fighting? Why hadn’t I checked on her when she’d been gone for too long? I kicked myself and her brother for distracting me as I swung the door open and took in Tessie.

She sat on the tiled floor, her shoulders hunched and quivering as her arms stayed wrapped around her bent knees. I felt Bastian behind me, but I ignored him as I took a seat beside Tessie and leaned her head on my shoulder in a side hug.

“Oh, honey.” Pressing a kiss to her forehead, I wrapped an arm around her shoulder. “What’s wrong, Tessie?”

“Mommy said she can’t come, and Daddy won’t answer the phone,” she stuttered between sobs and shuttered breaths, and I swore, I broke for her.

Because I got it.

I understood how it felt to not see your mom or your dad and to have no one growing up. It was almost worse that her parents were alive and she still felt abandoned by people who had the means to be with her whenever they wanted but chose not to.

It wasn’t lost on me that Bastian, despite his flaws (and there were many), always seemed to put Tessie first. If anything, that was the one and only thing I admired about him.

I tilted Tessie’s chin up, so she looked at me. I couldn’t make her parents’ absence any better, but maybe I could distract her from it. “Wanna know a secret?”

She hiccuped, her eyes wide and round and so damn sad. “Yes.”

“You’re the coolest girl I know.”

“No, I’m not.”

“You are. For instance…” I turned to Bastian, who stared at me with such an intense look in his eyes, I had to look away. “Your brother, who is a big stubborn meanie—”

“I know.” She finally gave me a tiny smile. “He’s the biggest meanie, but I love him.”

“Well, you got your big, meanie brother to wear a unicorn tattoo on his face. I think that makes you the coolest girl ever, and if I could hang out with you every single day, I would.”

She gave her last sniffle. “Do you mean that?”

“Yes.”

Her shoulders straightened. “What about in outer space?”

“Duh.”

She held her head up and widened her eyes. “Underwater?”

“Of course.”

“At the movie theater?”

I quirked my head to the side and admitted, “I’ve never been.”

“You’ve never been to the movie theater?!” Her small gasp hitched on a hiccup, and my lips quirked up at the sound.

“Nope, but I’d love to go sometime. With someone special and as cool as you.” I nudged her shoulder with mine, and her smile took over every inch of the room.

Bastian took that as his cue to walk our way. Our eyes met as he took a seat on the other side of Tessie, his body brushing against my arm as he grabbed Tessie’s hand and intertwined his big fingers with her tiny ones.

His eyes said the words he’d never say out loud.

Thank you.

A temporary truce.

One more destructive than any fight we could ever have.