THE MAFIA’s PET

CRIMSON SECRETS

CHAPTER ONE

Crimson Club

The girl was still breathing when they dragged her past me.

Blood stained the tiles beneath her heels. Her fingers clawed desperately at the floor, leaving red streaks behind her as two men hauled her toward a black door at the end of the corridor.

“Please! I didn’t tell anyone anything!”

Neither man answered.

One of them struck her across the face.

I froze, the bottle of champagne trembling in my hands.

I had been working at Crimson Club for barely three weeks, but I had already learned that some questions were better left unasked.

This, however, was impossible to ignore.

The girl couldn’t have been much older than me. Her mascara had run down her cheeks, and one of her shoes had fallen off. She looked terrified.

Our eyes met.

“Help me,” she whispered.

I felt powerless.

Before I could move, one of the men yanked her by the hair as they got to the black door. It opened just long enough for me to catch a glimpse of the darkness beyond.

Then the door slammed shut.

A second later, the music swallowed the girl’s screams.

I stood motionless.

What kind of club was this?

Nobody seemed to care.

A waitress walked past me, barely sparing the door a glance. Two men nearby continued their conversation, laughing as though nothing had happened.

Was I the only one who had seen that?

I turned toward the door again, my heart pounding.

Then I noticed something on the floor.

A small silver bracelet lay beside the wall, stained with a drop of blood.

I bent down and picked it up, turning it between my fingers.

“Lucia!”

I jerked around.

Cleyton, the club manager, stood behind me with an irritated expression.

“What are you doing?”

I stood there, not knowing what to say.

“I asked you a question.”

“I—I saw those men take a girl away.”

His expression changed.

Only for a second.

Then he stepped closer.

“And?”

I stared at him. “Shouldn’t we do something?”

Cleyton laughed without humor.

“Listen carefully, sweetheart. You’re here to work, not to play the hero. You see something, you forget it. You hear something, you forget it. And if you value your job, you learn to keep your mouth shut.”

“What are you holding?”

“I—I found it on the floor.”

“I don’t care where you found it.” He snatched the bracelet from my hand. “And I don’t want to catch you wandering around this corridor again. Do you understand?”

I nodded quickly.

“Good. Now get back to work.”

He walked away, slipping the bracelet into his pocket.

I watched him disappear into the crowd, a cold feeling settling in my stomach.

The bracelet had belonged to that girl. I was sure of it. But why had Cleyton taken it so quickly? And why did he seem so determined to keep me away from that corridor?

I glanced at the black door again.

I didn’t know what had happened to the girl after they dragged her inside, but I had a terrible feeling I wouldn’t be seeing her again.

Whatever was happening inside Crimson Club, Cleyton knew more than he was willing to admit.

And suddenly, I wasn’t sure my job was worth the risk.

From the outside, Crimson looked like any other exclusive nightclub in Milan. Expensive cars lined the street, and wealthy people poured inside every night looking for alcohol, entertainment, and clearly, other things I didn’t know about.

My plan was to do my shift, get paid, and mind my business.

At least, that was what I had promised myself when I accepted the job.

I needed the money. My mother’s medical bills were piling up, my father had made it clear he wouldn’t help, and I had run out of options.

I had dropped out of school believing the job would be temporary.

Three weeks later, I was beginning to wonder whether I had made the worst decision of my life.

“Why are you still standing there?”

I flinched. Cleyton had returned.

He snatched the bottle from my hands.

“Get moving. The customers are waiting.”

I swallowed the questions rising in my throat.

“Yes, sir.”

He walked away, disappearing into the crowd.

I watched him go before releasing a shaky breath.

I needed this job. Whatever happened behind the club’s closed doors, I couldn’t afford to get involved. I couldn’t afford to lose my job, and I certainly couldn’t afford to lose my mother.

With a sigh, I adjusted the tray in my hands and headed to the counter.

I had barely taken a few steps when the atmosphere in the club changed.

It was subtle at first.

The bartender stopped talking. A man laughing nearby lowered his voice, and the two bodyguards by the entrance suddenly stood straighter.

I followed their gazes.

A man had just walked in.

He wore a dark, knee-length coat over a perfectly tailored three-piece suit, with a red silk tie adding a touch of color to his otherwise dark appearance. A black hat rested neatly on his head, casting a slight shadow over his face.

His shoes tapped against the floor. He walked straight through the club without looking at anyone, yet people moved out of his way before he even reached them.

Strange. I had been working here for three weeks, and I still had to apologize when someone bumped into me.

“Good evening, Mr. Dante.”

Cleyton appeared almost immediately, his voice noticeably more careful. “I wasn’t expecting you tonight.”

The man removed his hat and handed it to an attendant.

“Must I inform you every time I visit my own establishment?”

“No, sir. Of course not.”

Cleyton forced a smile.

Antonio studied him for a moment. He said nothing, but the silence was enough to make Cleyton itch uncomfortably.

“Is everything running smoothly?”

“Perfectly, sir.”

Antonio glanced toward the crowded dance floor.

“Then why does your staff look frightened?”

Cleyton’s smile faltered.

“I’m not sure what you mean.”

Antonio turned his gaze toward him.

“Don’t insult my intelligence, Cleyton.”

The words were quiet. Almost casual.

Cleyton swallowed.

“Of course not, sir. I’ll look into it.”

“See that you do.”

Antonio started toward the VIP section, then paused.

“And Cleyton?”

“Yes, sir?”

“Next time I ask you a question, give me an answer. Not an excuse.”

“Understood, sir.”

Antonio continued walking.

Cleyton remained where he stood until Antonio disappeared down the corridor. Only then did he release the breath he’d been holding.

I watched the staff return to their duties, though something told me the tension hadn’t entirely disappeared.

Who was this man?

And why did everyone seem so afraid of him?

Before I could dwell on the thought, Cleyton turned angrily toward me.

“Why are you standing there? The VIP room needs drinks.”

“Move!”

I quickly lowered my gaze.

“Yes, sir.”

“And Lucia?”

I turned back.

Cleyton’s expression hardened.

“Don’t make me regret hiring you.”

He walked away again, leaving me with more questions than answers.

What was wrong with that five-foot man? Did he wake up every morning determined to ruin someone’s day?

I adjusted the tray in my hands and headed toward the VIP room.

The VIP room occupied the far end of the club, behind a corridor guarded by men who looked as though they had never smiled in their lives.

Two bodyguards stopped me at the entrance, searched me quickly, and allowed me inside.

I walked in, and every man in the room turned to look at me. Great.

The music was muffled behind thick walls. Cigarette smoke curled toward the ceiling, and the scent of expensive liquor hung in the air.

Several men occupied the leather sofas.

On the glass table before them lay stacks of cash and a white powder I deliberately refused to acknowledge.

I lowered my gaze.

“Good evening, gentlemen. Your drinks.”

“Put them down.”

The deep voice came from the man seated at the center of the room.

I obeyed, carefully placing the tray on the glass table.

“Look at me.”

My fingers tightened around the edge of the tray.

Slowly, I lifted my head.

Oh.

It was the man who had walked into the club earlier.

Up close, I noticed the neatly trimmed beard along his jaw and the gold signet ring on his right hand. He leaned back against the sofa, watching me with an expression I couldn’t read.

I suddenly became very aware of how tightly I was gripping the tray.

I couldn’t understand how someone could look so calm while everyone around him seemed afraid to breathe too loudly.

“Your name?” he asked.

“Lucia, sir.”

“Lucia what?”

“Abato.”

He studied me for a moment.

I shifted from one foot to the other. Why was he looking at me like that? Had I done something wrong, or was he just like this with everyone?

“Who hired you?”

“Mr. Cleyton.”

“Do you know who I am?”

I had heard his name mentioned around the club, but I never paid much attention to it. Now, watching the way the other men waited for him to speak, I began to wonder who he really was.

“No, sir.”

“How long have you worked here?” he asked.

“Three weeks.”

“And do you enjoy it?”

The question caught me off guard.

I hesitated.

“No, sir.”

One of the men sitting nearby chuckled.

Antonio didn’t even glance at him.

“Then why are you here?”

My throat tightened.

“My mother is sick.”

For a brief moment, the room fell silent. Antonio kept looking at me, and I wished he’d stop. I was beginning to regret answering honestly when he finally reached for his glass.

“Leave.”

I didn’t need to be told twice.

I hurried out, closing the door behind me.

I stopped in the corridor and looked back at the door. What the hell was that?

I had no idea what kind of man he truly was.

But judging by the way everyone in that room treated him, I knew one thing.

He wasn’t someone I wanted to cross.