Dead Man's Hand (Vegas Underground 7)

My face flushes with pleasure and a bit of embarrassment that I just fished for that information.

“I’ve been trying to hold back—not to come on too strong, especially because you seem to have some hangups with me. But standing back and waiting isn’t my style, doll. I think I’ve shown remarkable restraint. But that shit is over. Consider my intentions declared.”

My pussy tingles at his declaration. Gio’s dirty talk is off the charts hot, but this? Real relationship talk from a tough guy mafia man? I’ve never been so turned on in my life.

I swallow. “Noted.”

Gio smirks as he parks in front of a lovely suburban Victorian and gets out. I push my door open and draw a deep breath. I can do this. I’m with Gio and he’s all about me. That pretty much makes any situation navigable, doesn’t it?

He stops right before we go in. “Hey, my ma doesn’t know anything about me getting shot, and I want to keep it that way, okay?”

Shock ripples through me. How did he keep something so big from her? And he seems so open with me, but what is he keeping from me?

We walk in the door, and his mother comes flying out of the kitchen, her arms stretched wide. “Gio!” Her expression turns to delighted surprise when she sees me. “You brought a girl!”

“Gio brought a girl?” I hear a man’s voice ask from the living room, and then family descends from all directions.

“Ma, this is Marissa, Marissa Milano. She owns the cafe Pops used to go to in Cicero.”

“I remember hearing about it.” Gio’s mother kisses both my cheeks. “Welcome, welcome. I’m so glad you came to help Gio celebrate his birthday.”

His brother Paolo gives me the double-cheek kisses, too. “Good to see you, Marissa.”

I have the same visceral reaction to seeing Junior I have every time since the shooting. Ice flushes over me, and the memory of him pointing his pistol at my head floods back. I force a smile and offer my face for his kisses, too, and he introduces me to his beautiful Latina wife, Desiree, and their baby Santo and son Jasper.

“Junior, can we have a word?” Gio says, picking up my hand and squeezing it.

Wait… what? Does we include me? Because I’d rather keep my distance from Junior.

But Junior agrees, shooting a speculative look over his shoulder as he leads us to a study. Gio shuts the door behind us, and I stand there shaking, wanting to run.

“You owe Marissa an apology,” Gio says immediately.

Oh fuck.

I start shaking harder. So hard Gio notices and pulls me against his side.

“Yeah?” Junior is scary as hell. As scary as Don Tacone, the patriarch of the family. He turns those dark eyes on me.

I can’t breathe. I mean not at all. I stand there, unable to inhale or exhale. Or even move, other than tremble.

“Yeah. For pointing a gun at her. You scared her, Junior. She has nightmares.”

I want to kill Gio for exposing me like this. I thought I handled the shooting pretty well in the moment. When the bratva bastards came in and camped out at every table in the cafe, I’d tried to warn Junior it was a trap.

But then it was too late, and their leader shot Gio on the sidewalk out front. And I covered up for them afterward. Lied to the police and told them it was all bratva. No Sicilians involved at all.

Junior absorbs this news and drops his head to the side. “Aw, Marissa. I’m sorry. It all happened so fast. You moved, I aimed. I thought you were one of them, that’s all. I would never hurt you. You gotta believe that.”

Some of my backbone returns. I lift my chin. “You thought about shooting,” I accuse. “Even after you saw it was me.”

Gio turns his gaze on his brother and raises his brows. “That true?”

Junior meets my gaze and holds it. He shakes his head. “I would never do it, Marissa. We don’t harm the innocent.”

To my horror, tears fill my eyes. “He told you to,” I mumble through trembling lips. It feels good to get it out. To talk about the moment I haven’t shared with a single soul.

“Who did?” Gio demands.

“Luca,” Junior mutters. He remembers. We all three will probably remember that evening until the day we die.

She’s a witness, his henchman said, and I’d had no choice but to beg for my life.

“Luca’s job is to warn me of danger. But I knew you weren’t a threat to me. You aren’t, are you, Marissa?”

There’s a slight warning to Junior’s tone, and Gio instantly growls, “Watch it.”

Junior holds up his hands. “No, no. All I’m saying is that it’s absurd to believe I’d ever want to hurt her.” He turns to me. His expression is gentle. It’s one I haven’t seen on him before. “You tried to warn me that day, didn’t you?”