“Gia’s looking good,” says Chains. “Why not have a crack at her?”
Blade shakes his head. “No thanks. She’s hot and all that, but I don’t fancy drinking my dinner through a straw when Vinn finds out.”
“You think he’d care?” I ask.
“Yes!” Chains and Blade say together. “She’s marrying a man equally as fucked-up as Vinn,” adds Chains.
“We were on the date,” points out Blade. “Ricardo Donini.”
“That’s the guy,” says Chains. “Heard he’s more brutal than Vinn and his dad put together.”
“He’s a dick,” I mutter and they both turn to look at me. “What?” I ask. “I don’t like the look of him.”
“What is it with you and the mafia?” asks Blade. “Why do’yah hate them so much?”
“They take what they want and fuck the consequences. Assholes,” I mutter.
I’d planned on an early night, I came to the Windsor for a quick pint and then I was gonna head home and see if I could sleep this dark cloud away. But watching Gia dance on a table while drinking from a bottle of vodka has me staying put. Tiny, the club’s prospect, takes her by the hands and guides her down from the table, mainly because she was wobbling all over the place and Pinky doesn’t want any accidents. She throws her arms around his neck and it pisses me off.
“I’m not that bad, am I?” she’s asking him, her tone slurry.
Tiny shakes his head, trying to peel her arms from around his neck. “You want me to get you home?” he asks and she giggles, patting his chest and shaking her head.
“Do I scare you, Tiny?” she asks.
“Yes, you really do. Now, let him go,” says Anna with a laugh. “At least pick a man who isn’t shit-scared of your brother.” Gia’s eyes flick to mine and I snigger. Then she forms a wicked smile and her eyes move to Blade.
“I know just the man,” she smirks, swaying over to where we stand. She places her hand against Blade’s chest and grins up at him. “Blade,” she says, her tone a mix of husky and drunk.
“We’ve been here so many times before,” says Blade with a soft smile. “You need to go home.”
“What are you, the fun police?” she demands and Blade laughs.
“I told you already, baby, I’d destroy you,” grins Blade.
“Promises, promises. You bikers are all talk.”
I watch the way her eyes sparkle when she looks at him, the way she angles her body towards him so he gets an eyeful of her tits in the tight-fitting top. Occasionally, she flicks her eyes my way. I finish my drink and place my glass on the bar, standing. “Night,” I mutter.
“What’s wrong?” asks Gia.
I smile and lean closer to her, keeping my voice low so only she can hear me. “I don’t play games, sweetheart. You want my attention, then don’t throw yourself at my brothers.” I push past her and head for the exit.
Chapter Six
GIA
I pull my coat tighter around my hungover body. My head pounds like a drummer in a damn marching band and I have bile lingering near the back of my throat waiting to make an appearance. Why the hell did I drink so much? I groan out loud, causing a passing man to glance in my direction. I take my shades from my handbag and slide them over my delicate eyes. It might be a cold day, but the sky is way too bright right now. Ric’s car idles to a stop along the kerb and the door opens. I climb inside, feeling his eyes on me even though I stare forward. “Headache,” I mutter as a way of explanation.
“Would that be because you were dancing on table tops in the Windsor last night after drinking far too much wine?” he asks coolly. Of course, he’d know that—he’s just like Vinn. “When we’re married, that will stop.”
I glance at him and lower my shades. “Firstly, I haven’t agreed to marry you, and secondly, I do what the fuck I like.” This isn’t the start I wanted right before we meet my dad for breakfast, but he needs to learn quickly that I’m not the kind of girl he can boss around.
I spot Dad, Vinn, and Mum sitting at the large, round table by the window overlooking the River Thames. We greet everyone and I flop down next to my mum. “Darling, take off the glasses,” she says. “It’s not summer.”
I shove them into my bag. “I know, but I have a headache and I feel terrible.”
“Anything to do with table top dancing last night?” asks Vinn with an arched brow.
I scowl. “Yes. I drank wine and vodka and danced with my friends. Shoot me.”
“You can’t be doing that when you’re married,” says my dad and I feel Ric’s smug grin. “She’ll take some controlling, Ric. Are you able to handle that?” he adds jokingly.
“Maybe you could take some tips from the bikers,” says Vinn with a sly smile.
“Bikers?” repeats Mum, looking at me to explain.
“Are we ordering breakfast or not?” I snap.
Breakfast comes and I sit in silence, listening to the men talk business. It took years of practise for me to sit quietly like my mum. As a little girl, I’d bore easily and chatter away until my dad would get so annoyed, he’d yell. I didn’t know the rules back then, the ones where men talk business and women sit politely without asking questions or adding input. My mum once told me that it made us more powerful than them, seeing
