Page 9 of Paolo DeLuca
He gave her a once over but wasn’t satisfied she was fine even as she nodded yes. Paolo hopped over the bar, pulling Lyric into his arms, soothing her and himself with the embrace. She was still fucking shaking. He didn’t know if she was afraid of him or the other man. Damn, his adrenaline pumped double time. Paolo pushed Lyric away from him, holding her at arm’s length, looking at her from head to toe.
“I’m okay,” she promised, but Paolo still wasn’t convinced.
“You’re shaking like a fucking leaf,” he said, putting his arm around her shoulder and ushering her toward the office. He briefly paused when they reached the VIP ropes. “Take over the bar,” he ordered Patrick, the bartender in the VIP section for the night.
Paolo didn’t wait for Patrick to answer. The only thing on his mind was making sure Lyric was all right.
Paolo flung the door open and kicked it closed before gently ushering her to the couch against the wall.
“You want some water,” he asked, making his way to the personal bar on the other side of the room. He grabbed a bottle of water and a beer from the fridge and then returned to her.
She accepted the bottle of water, although she didn’t open it. “Thank you.” She leaned forward, blowing out a breath.
“Did he hurt you?” he asked again, this time without the rage in his voice.
Lyric shook her head. “My arm is a little sore where he grabbed me. Other than that, I’m fine.”
Paolo set the bottle of beer down on the glass table beside the couch, taking her arm gently in his hands. He caressed the bruises forming on the lower part of her arm. Lyric winced.
“I’m sorry,” Paolo apologized. “You’ve got bruises.”
She gently took her arm back, but not before he noticed the goosebumps.
Is she as affected as I am?
“Normally, I don’t let them get that close to grab me,” she said, looking sheepish.
What that fucker did wasn’t her fault. “This has happened before?”
“Sure, but usually, they respect my wishes. I should’ve cut him off a long time ago.”
Unbelievable! She was attacked and blamed herself. He’d only been in Italy a week; within that week, she’d been hired and groped by more than one motherfucker in his club. That wouldn’t fly with him. The audacity of these bitches appalled him.
Paolo shook his head. “No, il mio cuore batte, his stupidity is not your fault, and I promise you won’t have to deal with anything like that again.”
“How can you promise that?” Her bright brown eyes focused on him. “You can’t control what people do.”
Paolo smirked. She had no idea how wrong she was. As they spoke, the guy who manhandled her certainly wouldn’t put his hands on anyone else. And he could because he was Capo of this fucking city, and he controlled what happened in his damn club.
“I can, and I will. From now on, you’ll work VIP only. I can protect you that way.”
The surprise on her face was almost comical, but he was serious. He’d never had a protective instinct for anyone but his family. Paolo wasn’t sure what to think about it, though.
“I can’t do that.” She stood abruptly, pacing the space of the office. “I’m fine on the floor.”
Paolo stood, grasping her shoulders, halting her midstride.
“Yes, you can, and you will because this is my fucking club. If you’re in the VIP section, I can keep my eyes on you.”
There was no letting her get out of this. It was what he wanted, and whatever she saw in his face made her give in.
“Okay, but you have to pay whoever normally worked there the same pay. I don’t want to feel like I’m taking someone’s money.”
Paolo thought for a moment and decided it was a fair exchange. One he would’ve done anyway. He’d always done right by his employees, those who worked for him in the club and those who worked behind the scenes in his counterfeiting ring. They were his extended family, and he would always take care of them. Now, because Lyric was under his employment, he would always take care of her, too.
