Brando by Marita A. Hansen

for it. Ivy’s gaze shifted to Vinnie, who was staring across at ... D .
    Dominic thrust the microphone in front of his twin, snapping Vinnie out of the stare. Shifting his guitar to his back, Vinnie took the microphone and yelled into it: “How’re ya doing?” The crowd screamed in response, surging forward even more.
    Vinnie’s eyes moved back to D, a smile lighting up his face. “I would like to dedicate the next song to someone who helped save my famiglia almost two months ago. Grazie , D, you’re a sweetheart.”
    “The ungrateful bastard,” Ivy muttered. “I saved his fucking family, not you, you barely did shit. He should give me the credit.” She looked at D, whose mouth was hanging open. “Close your mouth before Brando sticks his cock in it.”
    D shut her mouth, her gaze not moving from Vinnie. He started singing, the song a love ballad, which pulled Ivy’s attention back to the man, his voice impressing her. It was similar to his brother’s, just not as gravelly, his notes purer. It was probably because Vinnie didn’t smoke like his brother, who seemed to have a cigarette surgically attached to his lips.
    “Oh, God,” D moaned. “I want him so fucking bad.”
    “Then do him, because it looks like he wants a piece of you now.”
    D glanced at her. “Do you think so?”
    “He just dedicated the song to you, didn’t he?”
    “But, it doesn’t make sense; he’s ignored me for so long.”
    “Men don’t make sense, so go jump on his bandwagon and take a ride.” Ivy tensed as Brando walked past her, running his hand over her breasts. He kept on walking, disappearing into the crowd before Ivy could react.
    D’s eyes moved to her in shock. “He just groped you. Aren’t you going to do something about it?”
    “Yeah, leave . Get a lift home with Vinnie, I’ve had enough. No amount of money is worth this shit.” She took off, needing to get out of the club before she hit Brando—the man driving her insane.
     

 
     
    6
    Irene Landi wondered how she could get her hands on Brando—so she could kill the murdering bastardo . She clenched her hands to stop from shaking, all her anger and anguish building up, making her want to scream across the club at him. She was standing on the mezzanine floor, looking down over the crowd. She hadn’t expected to see him. She’d only come to listen to the twins’ music. Her eyes moved to Vinnie. She didn’t blame him for what his brother had done.
    She could never blame him.
    Unlike Brando, Vinnie had a lovely heart. How could he not with the way he sung, the way he looked, the way he smiled... She remembered the first time his beautiful smile had been directed at her. She’d been in front of the stage when he’d looked down at her, the expression lighting up his whole face.
    Vinnie’s voice petered out, her man finishing his song. He had dedicated it to someone called D, which she prayed wasn’t a lover—because she wanted to be his lover. She hadn’t approached him before tonight, knowing she wasn’t attractive enough ... until now. She’d had a nose job and had made her cheekbones more prominent, the swelling finally having gone. She’d also plumped up her lips and changed her eye color with permanent green contact lenses. An interviewer for the local newspaper had asked Vinnie what his ideal woman would look like. He’d said she would have curly black hair, green eyes, and a smile that would dazzle him. She ran a hand over her hair, the hairdresser having done a perfect job.
    Dominic took the microphone off Vinnie. “If my bro gets to dedicate a song, I will too.” He pointed to someone in the crowd. “I dedicate the next song Stone Cold Bitch to my evil brother Brando.”
    The crowd started laughing. Irene’s gaze moved back to Brando, who flicked a finger at Dominic. He’d finished fucking not long ago, leaving the poor woman dazed and confused. He was a user, someone who took whatever he wanted, then walked away, not caring what