Lure (Mafia Queen Book 1) by C.M. Stunich

Author:C.M. Stunich [Stunich, C.M.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Romance
Publisher: Sarian Royal
Published: 2017-09-20T16:00:00+00:00

If I hadn't felt like a veritable prisoner, I might've actually enjoyed the party at the speakeasy. It wasn't hard to believe, standing in the middle of such well-dressed men in fedoras and pinstripes and plaid, cigarette girls, and women in flapper dresses, that I was actually stepping back in time.

The air was perfumed with smoke, husky cologne, and soft floral perfume. Onstage, a woman in a glimmering white gown sung Hard-Hearted Hannah with a live band behind her, adding to the excitement in the atmosphere.

The walls were littered with bits and pieces of mafia history—famous mobsters from the Moretti family, a wedding dress worn by the wife of the original don, and row after row of subtle advertisements for the speakeasies of the time, calling customers to come and have an illegal drink to pad the family's pockets. There was even a signed photograph of Vito 'Lucky' Moretti, Fortunato's great-great grandfather, a man considered to be the father of organized crime in the United States.

“It's a little over-the-top, don't you think?” a smooth, easy voice said in my right ear. I glanced over to find Lucky Moretti with his blonde hair styled in a sleek, modern take on a traditional twenties combover. His hazel eyes sparkled as he took me in from head to toe, admiring the satin gold waves of my dress.

“I think it's fantastic,” I said, grabbing a fancy European chocolate bar off the tray of a nearby cigarette girl. Seemed like a weird thing to serve in a bar, all that candy, but it looked like the Moretti's were going for authentic all the way. “You don't like it?”

“Mm,” Lucky said, leaning back against the wall next to me. He was dressed in a three-piece suit—the jacket and pants white, the vest black. His tie was red and his shoes were these fabulous two-tone wingtips. “Maybe I'm a little biased since I know my mother decorated the joint?”

“Don't say that,” I told him, taking a bite of the chocolate and letting it melt in my mouth. It wasn't quite as delectable as the man standing in front of me, but still … delicious. “I found it charming before; don't spoil it for me.”

Lucky laughed and made my heart skip a little, just like he used to do to me as a little girl. I hadn't seen him in twenty years, but standing next to him … I almost felt relaxed.

What a mistake that would be …

Lucky Moretti was just another asshole in the families' webs, an underboss with a future in crime. His hands were as red as Marcell's, just as coated in blood and pain and crime. I would not let myself forget that—even if he was a tad charming.

“Dance with me?” he asked after a moment, tilting his head to the side and showing me white-white teeth in a big, genuine sort of smile. “Give your old childhood friend a spin around the dance floor?”

I looked him up and down for a moment and

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