It’s only been a few hours since the boys surprised me in the bar, and I can’t even believe it happened. It was everything and more. The way they touched me and had my heart racing. I couldn’t get enough. Having just one of them to myself is incredible, but getting all three at the same time? God, no woman on earth could possibly be this lucky.
I can’t help but watch through the side window as the dealer speeds down the long driveway in a beat-up piece of shit car. A laugh bubbles up through my chest. “Wow, he came prepared for a show,” I tell the boys, more than amused by the shitty car he probably just stole off the street, though I’m not going to lie, I prefer the black Mercedes he was hauling drugs around in last night.
The shit box pulls to a stop and Roman reaches for the door, pulling it open and sending a cool breeze blasting through the foyer. We step out into the night and watch the dealer from the top of the stairs.
He gets out of the car and looks up at the massive home with apprehension. He’s nervous and he should be. The boys have never invited him anywhere, let alone a private dinner at their family home. It’s not normal protocol for a dealer and his suppliers, it’s so abnormal that just the thought of stepping inside this property should have him shitting his pants.
The dude puts on a brave face and looks up at the boys with a tight smile before reaching into the back and grabbing a bag, most likely filled with the cash he owes them. Assuming he doesn’t know what’s been going on with Giovanni and his sons, he probably thinks this is their way of sending a message about the missed meet a few weeks ago. He probably assumes that if he gives the boys what he owes them and more, he’ll get knocked around a bit and then sent on his way.
If only he were smart enough to know what happens when you cross one of the DeAngelis brothers. The asshole probably assumes he’ll be safe if he keeps kissing Giovanni’s ass.
He throws the bag over his shoulder, and judging by the way Marcus’ body stiffens, he doesn’t trust this guy one bit. Who knows what the hell he’s got hidden within that bag, though we’ll know soon. There’s no way the boys will let him get a foot inside their home without checking him first.
The dealer reaches the top step and gives the boys a tight smile. “This is about the money, isn’t it?” he questions boldly before tossing the bag at Roman’s feet, the light sheen of sweat across his forehead suggesting that he’s just a tad nervous. “I swear, the other week was a complete shit show. I had the cops on my tail and had to clear out for a while. Everything I owe you is in there.”
Roman watches him for a moment, completely ignoring the bag at his feet. The silence is loud and the boys allow it to go on just long enough for it to feel uncomfortable. “Why don’t you come inside?” Roman suggests. “We’ve put out quite a spread.”
My stomach growls at the thought of finally getting a meal, but something tells me the only thing getting roasted tonight is him.
He gives a tight smile but clearly seeing no way out, he nods and allows Roman to lead him through the door. The dealer walks by Marcus, Levi, and me, and we wait a moment before turning and following them through.
The big doors fall closed behind us, leaving the bag of cash out on the front steps, and as we walk back through the foyer, I glance up at Levi, my brows furrowed with frustration. “So … when Roman said that we’ve put on a spread, did he actually mean that? Cause I’m starving,” I murmur, keeping my tone low enough so that my whining doesn’t ruin whatever stoic, tension-filled vibe Roman is going for.
Levi glances down at me, his brows pinched as he tries to figure out if I’m being serious or not. “You haven’t eaten?” he questions. “It’s almost the middle of the night.”
I shake my head. “Why would I?” I question, confusion settling deep in my veins. “You guys invited this asshole for dinner. I didn’t want to spoil a good meal, but now I’m kinda wondering if ‘dinner’ was a code word for something else.”
A smirk pulls at his lips. “It’s definitely something else,” he says. “Why don’t you go and eat. We’ll handle this. Besides, what we have planned for this guy … it’s not exactly something you’re going to want to see.”
My brows arch high, and just like that I know that I’ll be hanging around for as long as it takes. What’s a little hunger in the middle of the night?
“So, uhhh, nice place you’ve got here,” the dealer murmurs, trying to ease the tension in the room while effectively cutting off every thought of food sailing through my mind. “I bet it would have cost a pretty penny to build something like this.”
“Wouldn’t know,” Roman says in a bored tone, not even bothering to look back as he continues leading the guy through the mansion. “It’s my father’s place.”
My eyes all but roll right out of my head. If anyone knows anything about building mansions and the costs that go into it, it’s Roman, but apparently that’s not exactly a topic he feels the need to discuss, not tonight anyway.
“Your father’s place?” the guy stammers out, his eyes widening just a fraction, his first real hint that things aren’t quite what they seem, though he should have figured that out the moment Roman called and invited him here. “Are you guys … uhh … house sitting or something like that?”
“Something like that,” Roman mutters darkly, his tone taking on a subtle hint of excitement, one that only people who have been around him for a while would be able to point out. “He’s on an extended vacation.”
“Oh, umm … cool,” he says, trying to shake off his unease.
Silence fills the mansion once again, but the second Roman leads us out the back and into the cool night’s breeze, the odd tension seems to fade away. We walk for another minute, and I do all that I can not to wrap my arms around myself and start shivering. This is definitely a blanket and warm fire kind of night, but I’m not about to destroy whatever vibe the boys are going for by having my teeth chattering in the background.
Roman leads us out to the massive courtyard that overlooks the most stunning, modern pool I’ve ever seen. There’s a light layer of fog resting on top of the water, and the expensive lights built into it make it appear as though it’s glowing. A small fire pit has been set up, and I try not to be so obvious about my relief.
Roman finally stops walking and indicates to one of the many chairs around the fire. “Why don’t you take a seat,” he offers as his brother drops down next to the warm fire. I do the same and immediately lean forward in my chair, not bothering to scoot all the way back into it as I feel the warmth brushing across my skin.
The dealer hesitantly takes a seat, and I don’t miss the way he cautiously watches Roman. I don’t doubt that he’s heard everything he needs to know about the men sitting around him. He would have done his homework, and considering he’s been working for Giovanni long enough to be in his top ranks, he’d know more than the average shit-kicker dealer found out on the streets.
Roman walks back toward a fully stocked bar and glances toward our guest. “What’s your poison?” he questions, grabbing a few glasses, presumably for his brothers.
“I’ll take whatever you’re having,” he says, his gaze flicking around the small group as he tries to make a show of relaxing, but to be completely honest, he looks anything but relaxed. In fact, he’s doing nothing but making himself appear constipated.
Roman goes about his business pouring drinks, and I try not to smile at the way he pulls out a bottle of white rum and fills it just enough before adding a few cubes of ice, just the way I like it. I’ve got to give it to him, the asshole certainly pays attention.
Marcus and Levi rest back in their chairs, both of them keeping their heavy gazes on the dealer, undoubtedly making him even more uncomfortable as they wait for Roman. Their twisted little moves have me pressing my lips into a hard line, desperate to focus on anything to keep me from laughing.