Page 35 of My Ghost

“This…this restaurant belongs to you?”I squawk.

He smirks, clearly amused by my astonishment, but doesn’t reply.

“Don’t tell me that…you own the whole building.”I breathe, stunned.

“In fact I do, along with everything and everyone inside.”His eyes are boring into mine now, as if willing me to read between the lines.

I scoff.“And what exactly is in this building?”I bend toward him and whisper in a conspiratorial tone, “Shell companies for your illegal activity?Hidden weapons hideout?Secret conference venues for organized crime, like Syndicate Seminars?”

His smile becomes predatory.“Something like that.There’s also a gym, swimming pool and residences for…family and friends.”

“Don’t forget the club,” my mouth spews out before my brain can filter my thoughts.

Shit.Curiosity killed the cat and all that.But well, here goes nothing.

He looks at me with a speculative glint in his eyes.“And the club,” he confirms in a gravelly voice.

“So it does exist!”I cry with a gasp and he chuckles.

“I won’t hide anything from you, so ask away, little ghost.”

“Because…” I gulp.“You intend to silence me anyway, so there’s no danger in me revealing all your evil plans like the bad guys do in the movies?”

“Because you are good enough to find out anything you want on your own.”

“Oh…uh, thanks, I guess?”Be still my heart.

A waiter comes to take our order, and I realize that I haven’t read a word on the menu.I order the first thing that catches my eye, roasted seabass with grilled vegetables.Matteo orders bistecca alla fiorentina and a glass of red wine while I have sparkling water.

“So you really own akinkclub?”I whisper again when the waiter is gone.

“A private lounge,” he replies, face blank.

I can’t refrain from rolling my eyes.“Whatever.”But then curiosity gets the better of me.“And…um do you…you know, go there?”

“Specify going there.I do have an office there.”

So he’s playing difficult and it seems to amuse him to see me flustered.I groan.“You know what I mean.”

“No, why don’t you explain?”He’s laughing now.Crinkles appear at the corners of his eyes, and worse, adimplewinks at me from his cheek and suddenly my mouth goes dry.

I’ve never seen him laugh, and the sight robs me of any coherent thoughts.He looks years younger, relaxed and carefree, like someone else entirely than the brooding Mafia enforcer he impersonates every waking moment.

“No.”His face is serious now as he looks at me.

“What?”What were we discussing?

“I nevergo thereto indulge in the services the club offers.”

“Oh…really?”

“I don’t shit where I eat,” comes his terse answer.

I frown.“What does that even mean?”

“It means no,” he deadpans.

Before I can reply, a pair of waiters place our plates in front of us.My mouth waters at the divine smell.And the taste is pure heaven.I eat with relish, humming at every forkful while Matteo eats silently, eyes glued to my face.