I still can’t believe the attractive man I’ve seen twice the past week owns this club. I know because I asked the old man who he is.
I almost had a damn heart attack when Adriano shouted at me. I assumed he got my name from the man with the clipboard, and he was upset because I’m up on stage in jeans and a T-shirt.
As my eyes lower, they land on the back of his hands. Seeing the word ‘KNEEL’ tattooed beneath a star with a skull, a shiver runs down my spine.
I’ve never kneeled to anyone, but God, I didn’t know what else to do.
My pride shrivels, and my self-worth takes one hell of a hit as I stay on my knees in front of this man who’s just made me a deal I couldn’t refuse.
Slowly, I dare meet his gaze again, and more shivers rush over my skin.
What the hell did I agree to, and why does he keep looking at me like he’s about to rip my throat open and drink all my blood?
Suddenly, he moves, and I startle so badly, I jerk backward and scoot on my ass across the plush carpet to get away from him.
Instead of going for me, Adriano rises to his full height and orders, “Come back here, Laurie.”
Dear God.
His voice sounds deep and rough, and just from the way he speaks, it’s clear he’s used to being obeyed.
I climb to my feet and slowly inch closer, my eyes locked on the devil I just made a deal with.
When I stop within reaching distance of him, he shakes his head and murmurs in a tone that sounds very threatening, “Closer.”
I take another step.
This time he narrows his eyes and gives me a look of warning that makes trembles rack my body.
Even though I’m shit scared, I meet his eyes and say, “First pay me the twenty thousand.”
Atta girl. Get the money before he fucks you six ways to Sunday.
The corner of his mouth twitches, and keeping my gaze imprisoned with his, he pulls his phone out of his pocket. After he unlocks the screen, he says, “Bank details.”
I give him what he needs and even repeat my account number to make sure he gets it right.
“I made an instant transfer so the funds should reflect soon,” he states as if this is a normal business transaction for him.
Shit. My phone.
I glance over my shoulder, then say, “My handbag is backstage.”
“Stay right where you are,” he orders while he types something on his device.
Silence falls in the office, and feeling more uncomfortable than I ever have in my entire life, I glance around the room.
When Adriano just keeps staring at me, I begin to fidget, twisting my fingers together while I take in the black and gold bound ledgers on the shelves and the large piece of art right behind his oak desk.
I dare a quick glance at the unnervingly attractive man, and when he still doesn’t say anything, I look at the blue water and lilies on the painting, my heart hammering anxiously against my ribs.
Jesus, Laurie, what are you doing?
The next instant, the door opens, and I glance over my shoulder again, seeing the massive man who slammed me into the wall the other day.
He leaves my suitcase by the door, then holds my handbag out to me, a broad smile on his face.
“Thank you,” I whisper, taking it with a trembling hand before digging my phone out.