Page 24 of All’s Fair In Love & War (The Bulgari Cartel #2)
Temptation
Sophia
The soft hum of the elevator accompanied my ascent to the thirteenth floor of Bulgari Towers, where my residence was located.
An entire floor was mine alone, and my brothers had ensured no one outside the family knew where I lay my head.
I didn’t question their reasoning because, in our world, information was power, and where I slept was a vulnerability I couldn’t afford to expose.
As the doors slid open, I stepped into my home. It was a sprawling two-story apartment perched high above the city. The floor-to-ceiling windows bathed the open space in natural light during the day, offering a stunning view of the skyline. At night, the lights below glittered like a sea of stars.
The living room was designed for a queen. A massive, cloud-like, white sectional sofa wrapped around a low glass coffee table adorned with an arrangement of fresh orchids. The walls were lined with modern art pieces. They were abstracts that evoked chaos and beauty, much like my life.
The kitchen gleamed with polished marble countertops and stainless steel appliances I rarely used.
Cooking for one felt pointless, and I’d never been the type to pour my heart into a casserole.
The dining area, with its elegant black table and leather chairs, sat unused, save for the occasional visits from my brothers.
The second floor was equally extravagant.
My bedroom boasted a California king bed draped in silk sheets, surrounded by handcrafted furniture in muted tones.
A walk-in closet housed rows of designer heels, leather jackets, and more dresses than I cared to admit.
And yet, for all its opulence, my home felt cold and empty.
I dropped my duffle bag by the door and kicked off my stilettos, letting my toes sink into the plush Persian rug. The silence was oppressive, quickly sobering my joyful mood. It was always like this when I came home. Quiet. Too quiet.
That was why I could always be found at one of my brothers’ homes.
Khalil’s place was a haven of order and control.
Naeem’s, on the other hand, felt chaotic and alive, filled with the occasional bickering at our parents when they were in town.
It reminded me of what family was supposed to feel like.
However, tonight, I didn’t feel like imposing on either of them. Tonight, I felt restless.
I sank into the sectional, scrolling through my phone aimlessly. My thumb hovered over the contact's name for a moment before decided to pressed it. After a few rings, a familiar voice answered.
“Damn, Sophia, I thought you’d forgotten about me,” Sierra teased, her tone light and playful.
“I’ve been busy,” I replied, leaning back and staring at the skyline. “You free tonight?”
“For you? Always. What’s the plan?”
“Dinner. Drinks. Whatever keeps me out of this damn apartment,” I said, glancing around the space that suddenly felt even larger and lonelier.
“I know just the spot. Pick me up at eight.”
“Will do,” I replied before ending the call.
Two hours later, I found myself at an upscale lounge. It was the kind of place where the drinks were overpriced, and the patrons were dressed to impress. Sierra was the life of the party, with her loud laugh cutting through the ambient music as we sipped martinis and exchanged stories.
Sierra was a girl I was close to when in high school.
We came from similar backgrounds and liked a lot of the same things—men included.
She was someone I could party with, but I would never have her around my man.
Sierra was the kind of woman to trip and fall on his dick, and I didn’t want to have to kill her ass.
As the night wore on and the alcohol loosened our tongues, Sierra leaned in, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “Have you ever heard of Eros ?”
I raised a brow, amused by her sudden shift in tone. “Can’t say I have. Should I be worried?”
She smirked, her dark eyes glinting with mischief. “Not worried. Intrigued. It’s an exclusive underground sex club. Strictly for the elite. No names, no faces, just... indulgence.”
I laughed, shaking my head. “You can’t be serious. People actually do that?”
“Oh, they do,” she replied, taking a sip of her drink. “And they pay top dollar for it. I heard they’re accepting new members this week, but it’s only open for seventy-two hours. You should apply.”
I snorted, leaning back in my chair. “What makes you think I’d be interested in something like that?”
“Because you’re bored, Sophia,” Sierra said bluntly, her gaze slicing through me. “You’re always looking for something new or something dangerous. Don’t act like this doesn’t intrigue you.”
I rolled my eyes, but the seed of curiosity had already been planted. “How does it even work?”
She grinned, sensing my interest. “Applicants have to pass rigorous screenings—health tests, psych evaluations, the whole nine yards, but once you’re in, you’re in. Absolute anonymity. Absolute discretion.”
I swirled the last of my drink, considering her words. The idea was ridiculous. Outrageous. And yet...
After a few more drinks and much convincing from Sierra, I found myself back home, sitting at my glass desk. My laptop glowed softly in the darkened room as I pulled up the website Sierra had mentioned.
The application process was as exclusive as she described, with layers of verification forms asking questions that were both intrusive and oddly thrilling.
My emotions flipped from hesitation to excitement and back again as I filled out the form, my fingers flying over the keyboard. When I finally hit the submission button, a sense of exhilaration washed over me.
I leaned back in my chair, staring at the confirmation message on the screen.
What the hell was I getting myself into?
The following afternoon, I was nestled in the plush confines of a boutique showroom alongside Tatum and Riley.
The shop, usually bustling with customers, was closed off to the public and reserved exclusively for our private appointment.
A continuous stream of fine champagne bubbled in crystal flutes, adding a touch of effervescence to the air.
Along the elegant walls, racks brimming with luxurious imported fashion beckoned me with their vibrant colors and exquisite fabrics, creating an atmosphere of opulence and style.
Tatum lounged across a velvet chair in a cream corset top and wide-leg jeans, her freshly blown-out hair tucked behind one ear.
She was scrolling through photos on her phone, barely acknowledging the sales rep gushing over some designer’s new collection.
Riley, on the other hand, was three glasses in, her eyes dancing with amusement as she modeled sunglasses in front of a mirror.
I sat with one leg crossed over the other, pretending to browse, but my mind kept circling back to my application to Eros. I hadn’t told them about the establishment, nor was I planning to—at least not yet. Riley would ask too many damn questions that I didn’t feel like answering.
“So, what’s your vibe today?” Riley asked, sipping her drink as she tossed a pair of heels in my direction. “Classic bad bitch or dangerously unapproachable?”
I smirked, catching the shoes with one hand. “Both. Always.”
“You’ve been in your head all afternoon,” Tatum added, finally looking up from her phone. “Something wrong?”
Right when I was about to respond, my phone buzzed in my purse.
I paused, reached inside, and pulled it out.
An unfamiliar number lit up the screen, and I frowned, wondering who the hell it could be.
No one ever called me from a private number, not ever.
Not unless they had a death wish or something to hide.
What the hell?
“Who is it?” Tatum asked, leaning forward and snapping her fingers to get my attention.
I held up the phone, a slow current of suspicion crawling down my spine. Something about it made me feel as though I was being watched.
“I need to take this,” I said, getting up. “I’ll be right back.”
Neither of them pushed, but I could feel their eyes lingering on me as I quietly slipped out the side door and stepped into the hallway.
The air was relatively cool and carried a faint scent of lavender from the boutique.
It was eerily quiet, save for the soft, constant hum of the ventilation system, which reverberated softly against the walls.
I pressed the phone to my ear. “Hello?”
“Didn’t think you’d actually answer, but I gotta admit... I’m glad you did,” came the male voice, the same one with the smooth, deep baritone that had enveloped me that night in the parking garage.
I froze.
“Who is this?” I asked, even though I knew.
How could I forget?
“Don’t play dumb, Sophia. You know my voice.” Dallas’ slow chuckle followed.
Caught off guard, I pulled the phone away and stared at it like it had betrayed me.
“How did you get this number?” I asked, my tone flat when I returned.
“Don’t worry about all that. I need to see you. Step outside.”
Utterly baffled by his request, I blinked, staring down the empty hallway like he was standing at the end of it.
“You must be out of your damn mind,” I spat, my voice barely above a whisper. “The fuck is wrong with you, calling me out of the blue and telling me to step outside like we’re friends? I don’t like you.”
“You don’t have to like me, Sophia,” he said smoothly, “but I’m going to get my way either way. You can walk out here on your own… or I can come in there and get you. Figured you wouldn’t want that kind of attention, so I’m giving you a choice.”
I gritted my teeth. “Fuck you, Dallas,” I spat, and his chuckle rolled down the line.
“Come outside, and you can. Backseat’s got plenty of room. I’ll fold you up and fuck that smart mouth right off your pretty face.”