I set my drink on the bar and move slowly to the column close by, leaning against it as I watch the young woman who takes in the club as though seeing it for the very first time. My blood thrums with unprecedented desire for the figure waltzing across my club as though in a fantasy.
Her steps are slow, in no hurry to get anywhere as though drifting or searching, but then speed up as she sees shadows in the corner, as though something she desires has been found in the lower-level sex club. I find her movements intriguing,and pure animalistic magnetism draws me to her, a chemical reaction to the other sex that is undeniably strong.
She moves slightly ahead, her long fitted gold gown glimmering, generating interest from several males along the way. My jaw tightens in irritation, not wanting to disturb the young woman, but instead to watch her as though a doe in the forest and not just for the hunt but not wanting to share even a second of the show with the men in this room.
My breath catches as she turns. A woman with unmistakable dark brown eyes made pronounced by the woven golden colors of her mask, and that rich dark flowing hair, and body I dream about every night. The one that was pressed against mine for so long the night I rescued her that I thought of taking her home to monitor her healing myself be damned the consequences or wrath of the Rosellis that would follow.
Anna Cassone … thought dead for almost six months but never once out of my mind. It simply can’t be, but yet it’s undeniable. I lean against one of the columns watching as the angel from my dreams continues to take in the atmosphere of the club. Not much surprises me, but Anna Cassone being in my club, and very much alive, shocks the fuck out of me.
On instinct, my eyes scan the club looking for rivals, or fuckers from any other family in the area, because where Anna Cassone roams, more of those bastards are sure to start coming out of the woodwork if only to finish the job they so clearly did not. Cashing in on a billion dollar reward the Gallinis put out on her head before we all got the message that she was dead is going to be very high on their priority list.
But clearly, she’s not. Anna Cassone is very much alive, looking like a glamour model who would be at home on any runway around the globe. I watch furtive glances and outright leers. A normal occurrence with such beauty in our midst, but it does not make me feel any easier.
A billion fucking dollars is a lot of damn temptation to put in front of someone, especially anyone in a crime family who wants to turn an easy buck, and as a bonus get in good with a family like the Gallinis.
4
ANNA
The moment I enter the club and the door locks behind me, sealing me into the unknown world of the lower-level DeLuca X Club, it should have sparked self-preserving fear. But the allure of the dimly lit club with the low playing music allowing couples the ability to have conversations in private just piqued my curiosity even more. Addie taps me on the shoulder. “I have to run to the restroom and meet up with my friend. Be okay for a little bit on your own?”
I nod, too engrossed in the atmosphere, charged with something I’ve never felt before and intangible to explain, to do more than that as my friend goes to find her latest guy. Every dark shadowed corner, secluded by the position of the booths or chairs with large potted plants that hang over the space like a jungle provide seclusion while offering glimpses into the seduction of this world.
Then I feel the entire room’s energy change.
A woman in mid-sentence shifts her gaze to a towering dark-haired man with deep dark eyes, leaning against the column by the bar. The women’s quiet chatter causes me to glance their way momentarily. One of the women glances toward the man andthen away, quickly, deliberately. But now my eyes stay focused on the man who has suddenly taken my breath away.
The dark god who stands over six-foot tall, wearing a black Armani suit with a mask of black and silver shifts, but doesn’t come closer. And when my eyes lift from the glinting cuff links of his suit, his meet mine sending a chill right down the length of my spine. Fear, excitement of the unknown, a sense of danger, I don’t know but it’s impossible to not be mesmerized where I stand.
The dark-haired god doesn’t approach right away. He waits, long enough that I become aware of my rapid pulse and every breath I take. So long that I almost convince myself to leave, or to run, but discard the thought, knowing I’d have to explain it to myself later, when I’m alone in the night dreaming of what could have been.
The people milling about in masks, providing drinks and mingling may not know who the person behind the mask is but they know that he is someone of importance. It’s in their subtle nods, and eye contact or lack of.
When he finally approaches, it’s unhurried. No one gets in his way, or is even in view, they simply aren’t there anymore because I’ve stopped seeing everyone but him. He stops a comfortable distance away. “You’re new.”
I don’t think it’s a question. Maybe he already knows. I swallow through the lump in my throat and nod. He doesn’t ask for my name or provide me with his. “You’re safe here. But everything you see here is by design. It’s real, it’s powerful, and can be overwhelming to someone new.”
I nod, so nervous that I simply don’t know where to look. His gaze draws my eyes to his. “If someone bothers you, you’ll tell me. Immediately, do you understand?”
I grasp my hands to try and do something other than nod. “Yes, I’ll do that. Thank you.”
His piercing dark eyes never leave mine. “Did you come alone?”
My head shakes automatically. “No, I came with Addie. She’s a friend of Mistress Valentina’s. Addie thought it would be nice for me to come along and, well, um…” I inhale a deep breath wishing I could just sink right into the floor and disappear. Maybe this was a bad idea.
He doesn’t let it drop. “What is it that had you so curious you ventured into one of the most sought-after clubs in the states?”
I straighten my spine and will myself to draw from my inner strength. This is what I wanted, to learn, to see for myself, no matter my nerves. “I was interested, have always been curious about the club life, about the different experiences that people have here versus regular clubs.”
He tugs at the sleeves of his crisp white shirt, calling attention to his massive hands. “Are you observing or considering then?” He’s so direct. My core heats and my blood begins to thrum.
I swallow through my fear. “Is it okay to say I’m not sure yet? I just got here, and in all honesty, I haven’t had a chance to see very much.”
A flicker of approval hits the gold flecks in his dark eyes. “Good, you should take your time to decide.” The man doesn’t touch me or cross that invisible line of personal space. Nor does he ask to touch me. His restraint feels deliberate, like he’s teaching me a rule, or what it feels like to want him to do the very thing he’s not doing while keeping me at arm’s reach.
Whoever this man is, he’s powerful. If I walked away, he doesn’t seem the type who would follow. There’s no doubt in my mind. And if I decide to stay, the encounter will be controlled, somehow dangerous and exciting but for some odd reason, I feel it would be safe.
It’s that commanding presence he exudes that tells me this man is used to getting his way in everything, and he is in a DeLuca X club. This man could be anyone, more dangerous than men I’ve known being subjected to friends of my fathers in the past, yet he is so controlled it’s disarming. I’ve come this far; I won’t run away.