The Capo’s Daughter

Luxe Velluto

They stepped into a narrow back hallway, the music thumping so loudly behind one of the doors that Mia could feel it in her chest. Three doors lined the corridor, each equipped with the same electronic card reader Luca had used to get them inside. As they walked, they passed a pair of bathrooms — one for women, one for men — before reaching the final door at the end of the hall. Luca stopped there and turned to face them.

“The first floor is the club. Second floor is VIP — but you won’t need to go up there. The third floor is for the bosses and execs. Don’t go up there. Understand?” His expression was firm, leaving no room for argument.

“I need to take care of some business,” he added as he swiped his card at another locked door. “I’ll find you when I’m done. If anything happens or you need something, look for Benny at the bar. He’ll help you.”

The girls walked into the club arm in arm, the music pounding so hard it vibrated through the floor. Mia’s eyes widened as she took everything in — the inside looked nothing like the gritty exterior. The walls were a clean, striking white softened by draped velvet curtains in a deep, seductive reddish-purple. Leather couches and lounges were scattered throughout the space, some paired with low tables and lit by soft, moody lighting.

Her gaze snagged on a couple on one of the couches — a woman straddling a man, grinding against him like they might as well have been alone. Mia instantly looked away, heat rushing to her cheeks. She wasn’t naïve; she’d had a boyfriend once, and they’d explored each other a little, but she’d never gone all the way. She knew he wasn’t the one she wanted to give her virginity to, and she refused to hand it over just to be careless.

The bar stretched along one wall, stocked with what looked like every liquor imaginable. Three or four bartenders hustled nonstop behind it, making it clear they wouldn’t get a moment’s rest tonight. The dance floor gleamed under shifting, colorful lights, packed with bodies moving in sync to the music — an electric, enticing chaos.

Kat squealed with excitement and practically yanked Mia toward the bar. She pulled so hard Mia nearly stumbled in her stilettos. They squeezed into a small open spot, and Kat immediately shot her hand up to flag down a bartender. A man approached, making direct eye contact.

“Sì? Cosa posso offrirti?” (Yes? What can I get you?)

Kat smiled brightly. “Benny?”

The man lifted a hand in a dismissive gesture and walked away without a word. Kat blinked, confused.

A moment later, another man stepped up — this one speaking English. “What can I do for you girls?”

“Hi, Benny. My cousin Luca told us to find you,” Kat said.

“Ahhh, yes. He warned me to keep an eye on you,” Benny chuckled. “Said you could be a little heathen, Kat. And this is…?” He nodded toward Mia.

“Oh, this is Mia — my best friend. She turns eighteen today. Can we get two shots of gin and two Negronis, please?” Kat asked, wearing the sweetest, most innocent smile she could muster.

Benny gave her a knowing grin and nodded. “Here you go, girls. On the house. Let me know if you need anything — and please don’t get into trouble. Luca will have my head.”

Kat nodded enthusiastically. Mia knew better. Trouble didn’t just find Kat — Kat attracted it like a magnet in a black hole.

The girls clinked their shot glasses and knocked them back in one go. The burn hit hard and satisfying all at once. Their Negronis followed — a classic Roman cocktail of gin, Campari, and sweet vermouth, garnished with a slice of orange. Bitter, bold, and surprisingly refreshing.

After several drinks and a lot of dancing, the girls were sweaty, panting, and maybe just a little tipsy. Mia finally needed a break. They found an empty corner couch and collapsed onto it. To her own surprise, Mia was actually having fun — even if she’d had to brush off a couple of obnoxious guys along the way.

Her feet were throbbing, so she curled herself into the cushions while Kat bounced off to grab them another round. When Kat returned, they sipped their drinks in comfortable silence. A few minutes later, one of the bartenders approached with a tray.

“Happy birthday, dear — from the gentleman at the bar.”

On the tray sat the same drinks they’d been enjoying all night: four shots and two mixed cocktails. The girls were already very tipsy, but they happily accepted them anyway.

When Mia glanced toward the bar, she noticed him — easily the most delicious-looking man she’d ever seen — raising his glass and dipping his head in a subtle nod. She knew instantly the drinks were from him. She lifted her own glass in return, mouthing a soft “thank you.” She wasn’t entirely sure if that was the proper etiquette, but it felt right.

A little while later, Kat — now completely intoxicated — insisted she wanted to dance again.

Mia’s face tightened; she was done with tonight. Her buzz had slipped into exhaustion and intoxiction, and her feet were screaming. She also really needed to use the restroom. After that, she planned to find Kat and Luca and tell them it was time to head home. It was already past midnight, even though the club was still in full, relentless swing, like it had no intention of slowing down anytime soon.