The Real Italian Alphas Read Free Page A

you never married, then?” she wanted to know.
    “My wife and I divorced several years ago.” he explained. “She could not deal with my—elevated status—within the organization. It has been difficult to find anyone since who had the courage to be with me.”
    “Well, what does the job entail, really?” Betsy asked. “What, do you have to kill at least one person a day to meet the quota? Do you steal candy from babies and give it to the big boss? How naughty are we talking here?”
    Gabriel was shaking his head with mirth by the time she’d finished. “These were not the questions I was hoping you would ask.” he said. “Can you not ask me my favorite color, or about my mother, or something else like that?”
    “Okay, what about your mother?”
    “I do not have a killing quota,” he said, still shaking his head. “It is actually much preferred when we all cooperate with each other—though I will not deny having killed more than one man in my lifetime. Mostly, we offer our protection to businesses so that others will not try to rob them blind as well. With so many different families operating in Las Vegas, it is important for these places to get that protection, else they’d be forced to pay out all their profits to the various mobsters who came looking, and they’d never be able to remain in business.”
    “So in your eyes, what you do is actually helpful to them?” she clarified.
    “I like to think so, yes.”
    “So, what happens if another mobster tries to bully your business?” Betsy wanted to know.
    “Then I send a few boys to remind him of our jurisdiction.” Gabriel admitted. “My mother has lived in Italy her whole life. She only speaks Italian. I have four brothers, and they are mostly in New York. Three of them are also made men, and the other works for the FBI.”
    “Hmm, I wonder if you would call that one the white sheep in the family.” she said with a cheeky grin.
    “Funny,” he said, bumping his nose against her forehead. “Let us eat, before the food gets cold.”
    “Good idea.” she agreed. They spent the next few minutes companionably eating their food and smiling at each other, effectively talking with their eyes. Betsy knew right when Gabriel’s mood switched from playful to something a bit more sensual when his foot slid over to hers and rubbed.
    “Will you come dance with me?” he asked her as she dabbed her lips and set her napkin on her empty plate.
    “I’m not very good at dancing, unless you consider stepping on your partner’s toes a good dance step.” she answered with an amused grimace.
    Gabriel slid a hand around her waist as he got to his feet, bringing her with him. “If you need to step on feet in order to dance, then you can stand on mine and I’ll show you the way it’s done,” he offered with a grin. Betsy started to protest, but she just couldn’t seem to resist the look on his face and fell into step beside him as they headed for the stairs.
    The nightclub they found at the top seemed lively and fun, with a mix of different types of music to dance to. Gabriel and Betsy found a place on the dance floor, and she noticed that the other people gave the pair of them a wide berth, which was just as well, considering her skills on the floor.
    Betsy giggled as she stepped up onto Gabriel’s feet, and the two of them danced around for a time. But then he said, “Much as I am enjoying the proximity of this position, now it is time for you to try it for yourself.”
    “Either that, or your toes are starting to ache.” she chuckled.
    “This place begins to feel much too crowded, Betsy.” he said in her ear as she stepped down onto the floor. “I have a suite that I keep over at the Venetian if you would like to practice somewhere more private?”
    Betsy blushed hotly. She knew very well if she went with him, it wasn’t the dancing they’d be likely to practice there. It was much more likely to be the swallowing. Her body temperature must have