OWN HER: A Dark Mafia Romance(23)

“Okay, he's good,” said Gio. He withdrew a pen from his pocket, scribbled a message on a cocktail napkin, and handed it to her. “Make sure he gets that, okay?”



“You got it!” Brenda said, trotting off with the busboys in tow.



“So what do you think of my ideas for the restaurant?” Gio asked, shouting to be heard above the loud music.



“You've clearly put a lot of thought into it,” Carolyn conceded. “I think you're right. It could turn a negative into a positive. We'll need to re-print a lot of the promotional materials if we want to change the name...”



“I ain't worried about that,” Gio said. “We got cash running through the place like shit through a goose. There'll be plenty for whatever we need.”



“I just want us to be careful about trying to do too much too fast,” said Carolyn. “We may have the money to do it, but that doesn't mean we should flash it around too much. My father used to have a saying when he taught settlement negotiation at Stanford: 'Pigs get fat, but hogs get slaughtered.'”



“Yeah, well, I ain't no pig,” Gio said. As he scanned the room, he saw a skinny man with a pock-marked face and bleached-blonde hair on the other side of the dance floor. He recognized him immediately—Ronnie Cambozola, a deadbeat who was two days late on an interest payment from a loan Gio had given him. He was chatting up some girl with a blue mohawk and large safety pins through her earlobes.



Okay, so maybe Miss High-and-Mighty isn't impressed with clubs and celebs, Gio thought, but I'll bet this will do the trick.



“Give me a sec, okay?” he asked, getting up from the table. “I'll be right back.”



Gio strolled over to Ronnie, tapping him on the shoulder. Ronnie turned around, saw him, and smiled. “Hey, Gio! I was hoping to find you. I asked around, and people said you like to party here. Listen, I'm sorry my payment's a couple days overdue, but my sister's kid got hit by a car and I've been helping out a lot over there. I've got it all here for you, though, every penny.” Ronnie pulled a wad of cash out of his pocket, offering it to Gio.



“Thanks,” Gio said. He tucked the cash into his own pocket, counted it quickly, then grabbed a beer bottle from a nearby table and smashed it over Ronnie's head. Ronnie went down on his knees, blood trickling from the lacerations on his scalp. The girl with the mohawk screamed, and several of the dancers around them turned to watch.



Gio grabbed Ronnie's collar, bringing his face inches away from Ronnie's and brandishing the broken bottle. “Now you listen, fucko. You make a payment two days, two minutes, even two seconds late from now on, and I'll start taking your fucking fingers. Got it?”



“Y-y-yeah,” Ronnie stammered. “Sure, Gio, whatever you say.”



“Good.” Gio let Ronnie go and he sagged to the ground with tears in his eyes. “Now get the fuck out of my sight.”



Ronnie scrambled to his feet and lurched for the nearest exit. Gio turned to strut back to his table. He saw that Carolyn's eyes were wide, and she looked pale.



Good, Gio thought. Now you know what a badass I can be when I need to. You can pretend seeing violence like that shocks and horrifies you, but deep down, I know it makes you wet.



As Gio sat down again, Carolyn asked, “Shouldn't we leave? What if they call the cops?”



“No one's calling any cops,” Gio assured her. “Like I said, they know me here.”



The song that had been playing ended, and the DJ's voice boomed through the speaker system. “Folks, this next song is dedicated to Miss Carolyn Aspen, the most beautiful woman here tonight. Hope you enjoy.”



Carolyn looked up, confused, as the song played. It was a romantic ballad by a young, fresh-faced female pop star who'd recently become a Top 40 sensation.



“I remember this came on the radio while we were leaving the bank after the meeting,” Gio said. “You said it was one of your favorites. Come on, we're gonna go dance now.”



Carolyn stood up from the table and grabbed her purse, turning to leave. Gio stood up too, blocking her path.



“Hey, where are you going?” he asked.



“I'm getting a cab and I'm going home,” Carolyn said.



“But I thought we were having fun!”



She pushed past Gio and hurried out into the lobby of the club, where the music was more muted. He ran after her and grabbed her by the arm roughly. “Hey, who the fuck do you think you are, shoving me like that? What the hell's wrong with you?”



Carolyn sighed. “Gio, I know you're attracted to me. You've made that very, very clear since we started working together, and I've tried to stay polite and professional about it so it wouldn't jeopardize our working relationship. You wanted me to come out and celebrate with you, so I said yes. But one minute you're trying to impress me with all the money you have and the people you know, and the next minute you're beating some guy up in front of me because, what, you think that's going to make me want you? And now you're dedicating love songs to me and asking me to dance with you? It's all too much.”