Femme Fatale Loved (Pericolo #3) Read Online Free Page A

don’t keep me waiting too long.”
    “I’ll make sure you’re not going gray when I finally say yes,” I tease, giggling a little before leaning over the bar to get a kiss. “It’ll be worth the wait.”
    “Oh, I know it will,” he murmurs, kissing me again before reluctantly sitting back down on his stool.
    “It’s nice you can all be happy.” A new voice slurs his words together as he sloshes his drink and raises his glass to Enzo, Zane, and me. “Nice you’re living comfortably, being an Abbiati and all that.”
    I look at Enzo, and he’s already watching me. This is someone from our past, someone who was once part of our father’s alliance. Now, he’s a drunk propping up the bar. I revert my gaze to the punter and watch him for a fleeting moment. I barely recognize him, but then, there were a lot of names, too many faces, and an overflow of jobs that people were used for. Key characters were all I could keep up with; those who weren’t important didn’t make it into my life. I only needed those who would help grant me survival. Everyone else was none of my business.
    “The downfall of your family ruined a lot of lives. My family can’t pay the bills, let alone pay for food.”
    I walk down the bar, noticing Cassie, my colleague, is keeping clear. She must have been serving him, but now, he’s striking up a conversation, and she’s doing the good thing and keeping out of it. I don’t blame her; she’s not good with dealing with drunks. She’s just good at luring men to the bar for drinks.
    “If money’s an issue, stop drowning your sorrows with what you have left,” I say, unsympathetically.
    I don’t make the best barmaid when it comes to playing agony aunt. I just like looking good, serving drinks, and having some good banter with the regulars. Someone who walks in straight from my past is not going to get award-winning service from me.
    He looks up at me, his eyes heavy with the assault of the alcoholism he’s reached today. He’s even swaying slightly, unsteady even sitting down.
    “Like you’d know what money issues are. You’re the spoiled princess of Salvatore Abbiati.”
    I lean forward, leering at this man. “You should be well versed as an ex-employee of my father’s. I’m not his princess anymore, hence why I’m here serving your alcoholic-ass whiskey.”
    “Ah, Amelia, you always did have a way with words,” he quips, drunkenly chortling. “You should go back. Being a normal civilian is wearing you down, princess. Apparently, the lack of money and no killer motives doesn’t bode well for you.” He stands up, swaying on the spot. “I could strike a bargain right now. Get me ten grand and I’ll never speak a word.”
    I laugh. “You’ll never speak a word anyway. You might not work for him, but my father will always control you.” I cross my hands over my chest and watch the man try to get where I’m going with this. “You’re never going to be free again.”
    “Then you’ll never be free,” he says, lunging at me across the bar. He doesn’t make it far; his alcohol-fueled senses don’t offer much in the way of coordination. “I wonder what I’d get if I took you back to daddy dearest! Maybe the Dio Lavoro will hire me back, maybe life can resume.”
    “Fat fucking chance,” I spit at him. “Enzo, Zane!” I call out. “Fancy helping a girl take the trash out?”
    It doesn’t take them more than two seconds to react. Both move quickly to stand on either side of the man. They hook their hands on his biceps and lift him off the floor a little. They half drag him out, all the while reading him two forms of the riot act.
    And I can’t help but smile.
    Forever my bodyguards.
     
    ***
     
    By the time my shift ends, I’m more than happy to be home. Although climbing the stairs to our apartment felt like a mission in itself, I keep myself going with the mere thought of a meal and a sinful dessert – aka Zane.
    As I slide my key into the door, I welcome