“Why should I change? I’m perfect just the way I am.”
“True.” He licked his lips. “How about a deal? We’ll join Pop and Gianna and the guest. If you know him, I’ll wait on you hand and foot for the rest of the reception. If he’s a stranger to you, we’ll go up to my room and you can be my love slave.”
Summit’s voice intruded immediately. “Negative, Camper. Do not take that bet.”
“Hmm…” Sasha sifted her fingers through her long, loose hair, then nodded. “Okay, handsome. You’re on.”
As much as Sasha disapproved of violence, she felt a tingle of anticipation when one of the guards refused to step aside on Carmine’s orders. In an instant, her muscular escort had pinned the poor slob against the doorjamb with one hand while sticking a slender silver blade against his throat.
“If this wasn’t my sister’s wedding day, you’d be dead,” Carmine assured him. “Now apologize to the lady, then move your fucking ass out of the way.”
Sasha flashed them both a playful smile, then took a deep breath and tiptoed into the sanctum sanctorum, where she saw her friend Gianna crying in the arm’s of a middle-aged stranger while another man stood nearby, also sobbing. Sasha would have known the second man anywhere, despite the fact that all the shades were drawn and the lights were dimmed.
“Zio Antonio!” She didn’t have to pretend to be happy. “It’s so wonderful to see you.”
“Sasha?” He strode over to give her a bear hug. “My God, look at you. More beautiful than ever. And because of you and your God-given talent, my Gianna looks radiant, too. This gown you designed for her is a work of art. It should be displayed in the Uffizi next to the masters.” He held Sasha at arm’s length as he added, “What’s this I hear about you refusing to let us pay you? If anything, I should double your usual fee for such a treasure.”
“You got the family discount,” Sasha explained. “I hope you don’t mind, but that’s how I’ll always see you and Gianna. And Carmine, of course.”
Carmine chuckled. “No, thanks. I’m looking for a different kind of relationship.”
Sasha laughed, then turned back to Antonio. “Take a closer look at Gianna. I think she’s the work of art. Don’t you?”
“Of course.”
“Thanks, Sasha,” Gianna said, wiping away her tears. “And thanks again for coming. I was afraid you wouldn’t. And you’re the closest thing to a sister I have, now that—well, you know.”
Sasha gave the bride a warm hug, knowing how much it would have meant to her—to everyone—if Vittoria Martino had lived to see this day. But Tori had died young, another victim of the mob violence that had plagued both their families for almost a century.
Wasn’t that why Sasha was working with the FBI? To put an end to that madness once and for all?
Taking a deep breath, she directed her full attention toward the man with the unfamiliar face who had backed into the shadows, watching them in silence. “You must think I’m awfully rude, sir, bursting in this way and interrupting your tender moment. I’m Sasha Bracciali.” Extending her hand, she walked closer to him, positioning the bra-cam to capture his face, and hoping that there was enough light for the image to be useful.
“You’ve grown into an exquisite young woman. More beautiful than even your mother, and she was a goddess.” The stranger kissed her fingertips respectfully. “You may call me zio Dante. I’m not really your uncle, but I’m an old and dear friend of your father’s, here for a short visit.”
Sasha tried not to stare, but the effort was wasted. This was just too good to be true. The man’s voice was familiar, but she had never seen that face before in her life. Rumors of Vincenzo “the Butcher” Martino’s plastic surgery had abounded for years, and she was sure she was now getting confirmation thereof, not to mention, a huge coup for the FBI’s Organized Crime Unit.
“Did you get a chance to see Daddy?” she asked him carefully. “He was here earlier, I’m told. But he left before I arrived.”
“Big Frankie and I had a nice visit last year when he came to Roma on a business trip. I was sorry to hear about your mother’s death, Sasha. She would be so proud if she could see you today.”
Yeah, it’s a shame Dad killed her, isn’t it? Sasha challenged him silently. But considering how many people you’ve offed in your time, I guess you’d be the first to understand why he had to do it. Caesar’s wife and all, right?
“Don’t talk about her mother. It makes her sad,” Gianna scolded the men. “This is supposed to be a happy occasion.”
“The happiest day of my life,” Antonio said quickly. “To see my daughter married—that is pure joy. And on that same day, to have both Sasha and my beloved cousin return to this house after too long an absence. It is more than a man deserves. We must drink a toast immediately. Carmine?”
His beloved cousin? Sasha’s pulse began to race. Vincenzo is one of his cousins! Isn’t that enough proof of his identity to move in now? I hope Summit’s getting all this! If the bra-transmitter lets us down I’ll shoot myself.
Carmine poured brandy into four elegant snifters and handed them out. Then he murmured, “To Sasha. She’s as fucking stubborn as ever, but tonight, that’s gonna work in my favor.”
Antonio scowled. “What sort of toast is that?”
“Allow me.” Sasha lifted her glass with a flourish. “To my family, not through blood but through choice.”
The man who called himself Dante chuckled. “Any girl who can quote Sinatra deserves to be a Martino.”
“To Sasha,” Antonio agreed, raising his glass.
As the others echoed the toast, Summit’s warm voice sounded in Sasha’s ear. “Okay, Camper. We’ve got more than we need. I’m going to ring your cell, you’re going to answer, and then you’re going to tell them your best customer just called you in hysterics over some dressmaking emergency and you have to go soothe the ruffled feathers.”
Her phone rang on cue, and she apologized, then stepped away from the group and answered it.
“Good girl,” Summit whispered. “You’ve done an amazing job. First by designing that crazy bra, and now this. It’s unbelievable. It’s also over, so get the hell out of there. And if that horny bastard Carmine tries anything, tell him you’ll sic your father on him if he doesn’t back off. Got it?”
“For heaven’s sake, Martha!” Sasha exclaimed. “It can’t be that bad. Just calm down. I’ll be right there, I promise. Just don’t try to force the zipper whatever you do. We used the last scrap of fabric for the lining of the jacket. So please, just calm down. I’m on my way.”
She could see disapproval in the eyes of Antonio and Dante, not to mention annoyance in Carmine’s. “Sorry, I thought I turned that thing off,” she said in apology. “But it’s lucky I got the call, because my best customer is having a panic attack, and she’s having it in her five-thousand-dollar business suit. I’m so, so sorry, but I’ve gotta dash. Forgive me?” Before they could protest, she walked right up to Dante and said, “I’ll give Daddy your best.
