This is what I expected when I got here, to be broken in every way, being hurt at every turn. So far I’ve gotten off easy. Up until now, the worst things that had happened to me at the hands of the Costas had all been sexually.
Maximo had assaulted me in the stock room and the alleyway. Giovanni had fucked me while calling me a slut and every other derogatory name in the book after I’d went out to a club with Lucia and he found me with a strange man’s hands on me. Vito had watched the entire time.
And the stranger had apparently lost his hands.
As far as almost dying though, that had been reserved for all the enemies I've accumulated while here. And in the end, I was never the one who got the worst of it all. Enzo had taken a lot of the beating when I was taken the first time and Vito had been shot the second time.
Weeks after Lucia and Maximo had already gotten him shot after he’d tried to stop them from shooting up one of the Ramos Cartel’s restaurants.
So my pain has been limited. I should have known that wouldn’t continue forever.
Vito sits down on the right side of me and Giovanni sits on the left. They’re both dressed in suits and I have on a simple purple dress. The three seats across from us are vacant.
I glance at the menu, frowning when I don’t see a price on any of the items.
This is definitely a rich person’s restaurant then.
Except the three men walking toward our table don’t look rich, though I suspect that they have more money than most people dining here.
I recognize Hollow first, his hard eyes sweeping over the room. When he looks at me, he offers a soft smile, even though his body remains tightly coiled. Behind him is the man who looks a bit like a Greek goddess, especially with his hair down today, the locks floating past his shoulder. Most of the locks are pushed to one side, exposing his topaz eyes. He winks at one of the waiters who stops to gawk at his vest.
Razor.
The last man looks vaguely familiar and I’m sure I saw him at the party, but I’m unsure. His black hair is trimmed short, flecks of gray hard to miss in it and his beard. He’s got the beginnings of a silver fox going for him. Crow’s feet sit at the corner of his blue eyes and his gaze is hard and observative as he looks around the restaurant.
“Giovanni, Vito, and Winter, was it?” Hollow asks as he stops behind one of the empty seats.
I nod, my mouth feeling dry.
“Winter. I don’t think we’ve made acquaintances,” Razor says as he drops down in the seat across from Vito. He sends me a charming smile and I have the distinct feeling that he’s a playboy.
Maybe that’s the real reason he and Daria broke up.
Vito clears his throat, drawing Razor’s attention and when he looks at him, Razor raises a brow before leaning back in his seat, propping his arm along the back of the chair.
Somehow, he manages to look comfortable but there’s no way the position isn’t going to leave him with a cramp.
Hollow sits in the seat across from me and the last man takes the seat beside Giovanni.
I eye the jeans and t-shirts the men are wearing. People keep looking at them as if they want to notify management they don’t belong here. No one has the courage to actually say anything.
I eye the last guy. His arm is propped up on the table, leaving the angle impossible for me to see what his patch says.
I know that I saw him at the party, but I can’t quite recall what his name is.
He feels my gaze on him and when he turns his face, he sends me a haughty look that has me quickly looking away.
They’re bikers, Winter, just because Hollow doesn’t seem so bad and Razor sent you a flirty smile doesn’t mean they’re nice people.
They’re criminals, just like the men sitting on either side of me. Which means I need to shut my mouth and make myself as small as possible. It’s the same realization I’d come to when Maximo had taken me to the Rossi’s house with him.
The older looking brother, I believe his name was Tomasso, had definitely invoked fear when he opened the door, but the other one… the one who Maximo called Tizzy. I’d immediately know he was the one to really fear. Because only an equally insane man would smirk at Maximo Costa knowing his reputation.
And I hadn’t missed the way he’d licked his lips and watched Maximo as if he wanted to eat him right up. It’d sent a shiver down my spine.
I’d stayed quiet that whole meeting and I plan to do the same today.
Except it seems as if Razor is constantly trying to engage me in conversation. Even after we order our food and it comes out, he draws me into talking to him, asking various off the wall questions.