Page 9 of Thin Lines (Donati Bloodlines 2)

Calisto couldn’t be prouder.

“Zio,” Calisto greeted, taking his uncle’shand.

“Cal,” Affonso said with a smile.

The two shook hands before Calisto lifted his uncle’sand pressed a quick kiss to the large, ornate ring on his middle finger. It wasa sign of respect, although Calisto despised the very action. His respect forAffonso was limited, if not barely there at all, but it was something his uncledemanded from his men.

And there were a lot of men watching.

Calisto ignored the other Mafiosi in the room, gaugingand surveying the exchange between an uncle and his nephew—the Don and hisconsigliere. Some of Calisto’s grievances and disagreements with Affonso wereknown to the other men. Not every argument was held behind the protection ofclosed doors. It wasn’t a well-kept secret.

Nonetheless, Calisto put on the mask of a sheep whenthe time called for it. This was one of those moments, unfortunately.

It didn’t help that Emma stood at Affonso’s side withher head turned to the side, and her hand entangled with her husband’s. Shewore a red dress, skin-tight, that was littered with sparking beads from theneckline to the hem. Each time she moved, the flared skirt would shimmer,sending bolts of colors cascading across her skin and the floor.

She looked beautiful. Still young and vibrant. Herpainted red lips spoke of her silent defiance, a fire that had first drawnCalisto to Emma when they were in Las Vegas before the wedding. Affonso hatedred lipstick. Emma was clearly still wearing hers.

Calisto was pleased that his uncle hadn’t somehowmanaged to take that away from the girl. A dangerous satisfaction swam throughhis bloodstream, just by knowing Emma hadn’t bowed to all of Affonso’s demands.

Hopefully, Affonso wasn’t giving the woman too muchtrouble for it all.

“Evening, Emma,” Calisto said quietly.

Emma’s gaze cut to Calisto at his acknowledgment. Aspark of anger heated up her green eyes as she looked him over briefly, andthen dropped her stare altogether.

“Cal,” Emma murmured. “How’s work? We don’t see younearly enough.”

“Clubs are good.”

“I’ve been meaning to visit one.”

“Oh?” he asked.

Affonso chuckled deeply. “She likes to dance.”

Emma didn’t pay her husband any mind, and her gazenever once left Calisto. “Yes, but you’ve been everywhere but here. I didn’tknow which one of your clubs was the best.”

“They’re all good, bella. I own them, afterall.”

Affonso didn’t seem to notice Calisto’s affectionateuse of “beautiful” in regards to his wife. That, or the man didn’t care.

Emma, on the other hand, softened a bit in her stance.“I’ll keep that in mind, Calisto.”

Her voice was still like honey, he noticed. Soft,smooth, and wickedly sweet. Calisto had spent the majority of the last fourmonths avoiding his uncle and Emma for the sake of his own sanity. He had hopedthat staying away from the woman would let him clear his head, get her out ofhis system, and allow him to move on.

It didn’t.

Instead, Calisto found himself thinking about creamyskin, expressive green eyes, and white sheets more than he cared to admit. Hisdreams often turned to clothes discarded on marble floors, the music of Emma’spleas as Calisto fucked her from behind, and the way her bottom lip looked whenher top teeth bit down into the pink flesh.

With just a few wayward thoughts, Calisto was rightback to where he started with Emma. Walking on thin lines, and knowing he was afucking fool for doing so.

The girl made it damn easy.

She probably didn’t even know.

Why couldn’t he just let it—her—go?

“Ah, there’s Ray,” Affonso said, taking Calisto’sattention off of Emma for a moment.