The Secret (House of Sin Book 1) Read online

  “Yes, sir, Mr. Salvatici.”

  Yes, sir. There it was again. Was I reading too much into the words?

  Gio nodded for me to join him. “Come on. I know a great place close by.”

  I hesitated. I knew nothing about this man. I was more than wary of his innuendoes, but he was my key to Covet. Dinner might be my best chance to get him talking. “Okay,” I heard myself say. “Thanks.”

  We stepped into the hustle and bustle of Times Square, leaving Chad to load the equipment in the van. I tried to keep up but was quickly swallowed by the crowd. Rising to my toes, I tried to look over heads but couldn’t see more than a sea of faces. Just when I was sure I’d lost Gio, a hand closed around mine and pulled.

  Startled, I looked up to find Gio grinning down at me in that sexy, sinful way of his as he maneuvered us both toward the sidewalk. “Don’t let go, bella. I’m not even close to done with you yet.”

  A shiver rushed down my spine, one laced with both unease and fear. I told myself not to get swept in by his charm as I watched him lift two fingers to his lips and whistle for a cab. For Laney, I would flirt and smile and be as seductive as needed to get what I’d come for. And if Gio Salvatici wasn’t the him from those letters, I’d use him to find out who he really was.

  Because one way or another, I was going to find Laney’s killer. I’d find him and I’d make sure he never harmed another woman again.

  The place “close by” that Gio had mentioned wasn’t one of the chain restaurants I’d spotted in Times Square. It was a French restaurant off Fifty-first Street called Le Bernardin, and as soon as I stepped through the revolving door, I knew I was way out of my element—again.

  Twisted vertical strips of steel covered one whole wall. Another held an enormous painting of a stormy sea. The décor was fresh and modern with low tables decked out with crisp white linens, glittering china, and plush padded chairs. The restaurant was packed, every patron dressed in dinner jackets, fancy dresses, and so much bling, the room sparkled.

  My gaze shot to the cheap slacks and light blouse I’d worn today, then to Gio’s casual jeans and deep blue tee. “We’re not dressed for a place like this,” I whispered at his side as he moved toward the hostess. “And I’m pretty sure you have to have a reservation.”

  He grinned down at me. “Fear not, bella.”

  Glancing over my shoulder toward the dining room, I felt every eye in the place on me. I tucked a stray lock of hair back into place and tried not to fidget.

  I didn’t like how out of my element I felt. Something was disturbing me, and it wasn’t the New York crowds or the cold-hearted models I’d encountered. It was Gio, and his brother. It was the way Antoinette had said yes, sir, and the way the other model had stepped away in fear when I’d mentioned Elena’s name.

  All the more reason to dig deeper, I told myself, dropping my hands and straightening my spine like I belonged here.

  The hostess—a young blonde who was as striking as any model at Covet—laughed at something Gio said, then stepped away from her station and disappeared around a corner. Seconds later she returned with a dinner jacket in her hand. “Here you go, Mr. Salvatici.” As Gio shrugged into the blazer, she reached for two menus from her station. “If you’ll both follow me.”

  Gio held his arm out so I could move in front of him. “After you, bella.”

  The hostess led us to a secluded U-shaped booth in the back. “Here you are.” She handed each of us a menu when we were seated and reached across the table to flip our water glasses over. “Jacque will be your server tonight.” She looked down at Gio and winked. “Enjoy, sir.”

  “Grazie, Gabriella.” Something about the way Gio said the girl’s name hit me as off. And I didn’t miss that word again: sir.

  “Do you know her?” I asked, watching the sway of the girl’s hips as she walked away.

  Gio shrugged and studied his menu. “She sat on me before.”

  “She what?”

  Grinning, he glanced up. “Sat for me. Sometimes my English is off.” He looked across the restaurant toward Gabriella already talking with another couple at the hostess station. Something in his eyes spoke of familiarity. And intimacy. “She sat for me. For the camera.”

  “Oh.” My gaze drifted toward the blonde. “She’s a model?”

  “Some.” He looked back down at his menu. “The food here is delizioso.”

  A strange feeling rolled through my belly, like too long spent on a rocking boat.

  “Wine, bella?” He reached for the wine list from the edge of the table. “The seafood here is exceptionally delicious. I suggest a white.”

  I knew virtually nothing about wine, but the comment made me remember what I’d found on the Internet about the Salvatici family, and I latched on to it. “I understand your family owns a vineyard.”

  “Ah, we do.” He flipped a page in the thick wine book. “The Salvaticis make the best wine in all of Tuscany. You should come to Italy sometime. Sample our fruit.” He glanced across the table at me. “It’s the most succulent you’ll ever taste.”

  There it was again. The blatant sexual innuendo. I chose to ignore it once more.

  The waiter came and read off the specials. Gio ordered a bottle of Salvatici Pinot Grigio—winking at me as he did and pointing out to the waiter that the French wines on their list paled in comparison. By my first sip, I had to admit he had a point. The wine was light and crisp with no oakiness, and it went perfectly with the sea bass Gio suggested I order.

  We lapsed into an easy discussion about the photo shoot over dinner and the spread it would fill in the magazine. I was careful not to bring up Laney’s name, because that hadn’t gone well before, instead asking about the other models—how long they’d been with Covet, what other photographers they worked with, how easy or difficult the models were to manage. Gio answered all my questions without any hint of suspicion. I learned that Covet models signed directly with the magazine. If they wanted to take outside work, they had to get approval from the CEO. Basically, they were owned by the company. By Luciano Salvatici. The Beast.

  My appetite waned, and I set down my fork, reaching for my wine again. What was it about Luciano Salvatici that bothered me so much? It was more than his pompous arrogance, more than his intimidating glances. He was a threat. I’d felt it the first moment I’d laid eyes on him. He was the kind of man who was always in control. I’d heard it in his voice when he’d told me my interview was over. No back and forth. No pleasantries. Nothing but cold, hard steel staring back at me.

  “Bella?” Warmth rushed over my fingers, and I blinked at Gio across the table, realizing his hand was sliding over mine at the stem of my wineglass. “Are you still there? You seem a million miles away.”

  I suppressed the urge to jerk my hand back, instead working for a smile I didn’t feel. “Sorry. I think I’ve had a little too much wine.”

  He grinned, pushed his plate forward, and rested his forearms on the tablecloth. “Salvatici wine is potent. Like its men.”

  I couldn’t help myself. I laughed. After two glasses of wine—or had it been three?—his innuendos were more funny than disturbing. “Good thing there are only two of you. Pretty sure I couldn’t handle any more.”

  His eyes darkened again, and his gaze slipped from my eyes to my lips and lower, hovering on the edge of my blouse and the hint of cleavage at my chest. “I bet you could handle way more than two.”

  Whatever warmth I’d been feeling turned ice cold, and for a moment, I felt as if I were in a yacht on the swirling, stormy sea in the picture behind me. I needed to go before he got any ideas. I hadn’t brought Laney up tonight, but I’d learned a lot about Covet and how the magazine worked, and that would have to be enough. At this point, giving him a reason to trust me was more important than pumping him for information. But I was not about to give him a reason to think I was interested.

  “I really appreciate dinner, but I should probably think about getting home. It’s—”


  Gio’s gaze skipped past me, and the way his jaw clenched down and his expression hardened stopped me midsentence.

  I turned to see what he was staring at and froze when I spotted the Beast walking right toward our table.

  My rolling stomach twisted into a tight knot. Looking back at Gio, I watched as he leaned back, his muscles coiling tight beneath the black blazer the hostess had loaned him as if ready for a fight.

  Luciano Salvatici nodded at the two men in suits he was with. They moved past him and found their table. The Beast, however, stopped when he reached us.

  “Giovanni,” he said in that deep, pompous voice. He was dressed as he had been yesterday, in a charcoal suit, but tonight he was missing the tie, his dress shirt unbuttoned just enough to show a hint of dark chest hair.

  “Luciano.” Gio’s hand gripped the edge of the table until his knuckles turned white.

  “Entertaining, I see.” The Beast’s blistering gaze flicked once at me, then away as if I were nothing but a speck of dirt on the tablecloth. And though I tried to hold my breath, I couldn’t. The clean, fresh Kilian scent I’d detected in his office during my interview filled my senses, distracting me.

  “Always.” Gio grinned, but there was a bite in the smile, no warmth as he’d shown me.

  The Beast’s jaw flexed, and a flood of Italian spilled from his lips, words I didn’t understand and couldn’t decipher.

  Gio’s features grew more tense with every word. He bolted to his feet and let out a stream of his own Italian. Voices quieted in the restaurant as all eyes turned our way. I sank back in my seat, hoping no one noticed me, hoping these two weren’t about to get into an all out fistfight in the middle of the fancy restaurant. The Beast’s gaze grew stormier—if that was possible—and the moment Gio stopped talking, he let out one sentence in Italian, flashed a last scathing look my way, and turned to rejoin his group.

  “What was that?” I breathed as soon as he was gone.

  “That was my dick of an older brother, as you so eloquently called him.”

  Gio pulled a wad of cash from his wallet and dropped it on the table. Grabbing his camera bag from the floor, he said, “Come on, bella. Time to go.”

  I pushed to my feet, and my gaze locked with the Beast’s across the room. A shiver of unease rushed down my spine. He was watching me as if I were the threat, not him. As if I had something to hide, not Covet. Grasping my purse, I stepped after Gio, but I could still feel the Beast’s eyes boring into my back, and halfway to the door, I remembered the way he’d said Elena’s name in our meeting yesterday.

  With knowledge. With secrecy. With contempt.

  He was the one Laney had gotten wrapped up with. I was sure of it, now. Somehow, I had to find a way to prove what he’d done.

  Gio was quiet in the car ride to the East Village. We pulled to a stop outside my building, and I turned to say good night to him, but he surprised me by telling the driver to wait while he walked me to my door on the third floor.

  Nerves rolled through my belly as I fumbled through my bag for my keys. I hoped like hell he didn’t expect to be invited in. “Thank you for dinner.”

  “I had fun, bella.”

  His voice sounded normal again, not edgy and hard as it had been when we’d left the restaurant. I pulled my keys out, relieved this night was almost over.

  “Is your friend home?” He nodded toward the door.

  Shit. He did expect an invite in. “Yeah. Probably,” I lied. He hadn’t acted like he’d recognized the building when we’d driven up, but there were pictures of Laney all over the apartment still. If he saw one, he’d figure out my working at Covet was more than a coincidence, and I wasn’t ready for that to happen.

  He nodded and looked down at me. “Friends are good. They keep us from doing things we shouldn’t.”

  He tucked a lock of hair behind my ear, and a shiver of unease raced down my spine at both the whisper touch and his loaded words. Again, I forced myself not to jerk back.

  “Well.” He gazed down at me with unreadable eyes. “I should probably go.”

  “Yeah,” I answered, more relieved than I hoped I showed.

  He flashed that mesmerizing smile once more and stepped away.

  I was just about to turn toward the door with my key when he gripped the banister and looked back over his shoulder at me. “I forgot to ask you.”

  “Oh, um. Yes?”

  “A friend is having a party tomorrow night. I know you’re new to the city. It’s a good opportunity for you to make some acquaintances.”

  “Friends are good. They keep us from doing things we shouldn’t.”

  That shiver turned to a full-on warning tingle. A party with him was probably not a good idea. I’d seen the way he looked at me. On the other hand, I needed to know more about his brother. Maybe at a party, with a few drinks, I could get him to let a few things slip.

  I bit my lip, debating. “What kind of crowd will it be?”

  “Industry people. A few from Covet. I could introduce you around.”

  “What’s the dress code?”

  He flashed those gorgeous teeth. “Nice dress, heels. Nothing too fancy.”

  I mentally flipped through Laney’s closet. Even though Laney had been five inches taller than me, I’d always been able to squeeze into her clothes.

  My heart pinched at the thought of my lost friend, reminding me why I was really here. Tomorrow was Saturday. If I said no, I wouldn’t have a chance to ply Gio for information until next week. Before I could stop myself, I heard myself say, “I could probably find something that would work.”

  “Good.” He winked back at me as he moved down the stairs. “I’ll pick you up at eight tomorrow. Ciao, bella.”

  “Ciao,” I said in response, repeating the Italian word for both hello and goodbye. But alone, I couldn’t stop wondering what the hell I’d just agreed to.

  4

  Natalie

  I stayed awake most of the night, tossing and turning, trying not to think about the chilling looks Luciano Salvatici had sent me across that restaurant.

  He really didn’t like me. Was it because I’d gotten a job at Covet without his approval? Was it because he’d seen me having dinner with his brother? Or was it something more?

  As I finished getting ready for Gio’s party, my mind skipped between Laney, the Beast, and Gio. If I ever wanted to get to the bottom of Laney’s mystery, I needed to focus. Tonight was the perfect opportunity to do just that. I planned to be seductive and mysterious with Gio, ply him with alcohol, and force him to talk.

  My phone on the bathroom counter rang just as I was finishing taming my curls so they fell across my forehead, hiding my bruise from that mugging the other night. I hit Answer and pressed it to my ear. “Hello?”

  “Natalie? There you are. I’ve been trying to get in touch with you for days.”

  I cringed at the sound of my mother’s voice and cursed myself for not checking the screen before answering. My mother had not approved of this trip, and I wasn’t up for another lecture about how foolish it was to drop everything and run to New York. I hadn’t told her my real purpose for being here—she’d flip her lid if she knew the truth—and after yesterday and my sleepless night, I didn’t trust myself to sound sunny and optimistic.

  Unfortunately, my mother was a talker. Fortunately, it was almost time for Gio to pick me up. “Hi, Mom. Sorry, I’ve been busy. What’s up?”

  “Are you at home? I called your house twice earlier, and you didn’t answer.”

  I couldn’t keep dodging her on this. “No, actually, I’m still in New York.”

  “For heaven’s sake. Why?”

  I clenched my jaw and told myself not to let my mother get to me. She liked to dictate my life from her cushy ranch in Montana. Nothing I chose was ever good enough. Not my job at the boutique or my small rental house or my lack of male companionship. I could tell her about the job at Covet, but I really didn’t want to. At least not yet.

  “I
t’s just taking longer to box up Laney’s things than I thought, Mom. It’s no big deal.”

  My mother huffed. “It’ll be a big deal when they fire you from the store.”

  I also did not want to get into a debate about how managing a small business was far beneath my potential. “Jillian is not going to fire me from the boutique, Mom.”

  “And how do you know?”

  “Because she told me to take as long as I needed.”

  “So you’re vacationing in your dead friend’s apartment? That’s morbid, honey, even for you.”

  My patience was quickly fading. “I’m not vacationing. Laney has a lot of stuff.”

  “Well, I still think you shouldn’t be there. Her father or brother should be taking care of her things, not you. Roger agrees with me.”

  I rolled my eyes because I’d already heard this one too. My mother was nothing if not opinionated. And the last person I wanted to hear a lecture from regarding the evils of New York City was my overbearing stepfather, Roger.

  The doorbell rang, saving me from losing my temper. “Look, Mom, someone’s here. I gotta go.”

  “You have plans?” Shock and disapproval rang through her voice.

  Yes, plans to find out who killed Laney. “I’m just meeting a friend of Elena’s.” It wasn’t an outright lie. “I’ll call you next week.”

  “Please do. I worry about you, dear, whether you realize it or not.”

  A whisper of guilt rushed through me. I knew she worried in her own way. The fact she’d always been more focused on herself and her romances than on her only kid was just something I’d learned to accept long ago.

  Another good reason not to get involved with a domineering man. I did not want to end up like my mother, neglecting my own flesh and blood all to please some guy.

  I managed a quick goodbye, fluffed my hair one last time, then wove through the apartment and reached for the door.