Page 49 of All’s Fair In Love & War (The Bulgari Cartel #2)
I stepped up beside him and followed his gaze.
We stood in the center of the museum’s African American arts and culture exhibit.
The walls were lined with rich, textured pieces that pulsed with history.
The portraits were painted in deep, earthy tones.
Abstract panels were layered in reds and golds, and the striking black-and-white photographs captured the stories of entire generations.
There were no velvet ropes here, just space to breathe and take it all in.
“You wanted to bring me here,” I repeated, my tone skeptical. “Not to steal anything. Just to… look?”
Dallas nodded. “Not everything of value has to be taken.”
I turned toward him, trying to read his expression. “Then why the theatrics? Why the back entrance, the keypad, the hacker routine?”
He shrugged again. “Because I wanted to make this fun.”
My arms folded instinctively. “I bet you did.”
He shrugged. “I have to give you a reason to stop running,” he said, meeting my eyes. “Even if just for a few hours.”
The words tugged at my conscience. I only ran because what we were doing wasn’t right, because if my family found out, they’d disown me, and because I’d bring shame to our name for secretly falling in love with the enemy.
Dallas grabbed my hand and led me to a statue, breaking my thoughts. “This is part of the city’s permanent collection,” he said, keeping his voice low. “But most people walk right past it to get to the European wing. They never stop long enough to see any of this.”
He didn’t sound angry, only tired, as if he’d seen it happen millions of times.
I kept my eyes on the statue. “Is that why you brought me here?”
He nodded. “That, and because I knew you’d get it.”
“I do.” I nodded, squeezing his hand tighter.
My phone was sitting silent in my clutch, probably full of missed calls and unread messages about an engagement dinner I wouldn’t be attending. Not while Dallas had my full attention.
“Let me show you something,” he said.
Dallas walked to the far end of the room, stopping in front of a small sculpture tucked between two larger pieces. It was a marble bust, not of anyone famous, but the face was hauntingly beautiful.
“This piece doesn’t get much attention,” he said. “People overlook it because it’s not loud, or grand, or tied to some well-known name, but I like it.”
I stepped closer, studying the smooth curves and the statue’s perfect stillness. “Why?”
He looked at me then, not the sculpture. “Because it looks like it’s hiding something.”
I didn’t know what to say to that. So I didn’t. Instead, I kissed the back of his hand, and this time, he didn’t smirk. He didn’t say anything clever. He just took my hand close to him in the middle of a museum we had no business being in.
And for a brief, quiet moment, I didn’t feel like anyone’s sister, pawn, or obligation.
I just felt seen.
When I turned to look at Dallas, he was watching me. His expression was unreadable and serious in a way that made my stomach tighten.
“What?” I asked, my voice soft.
He stepped closer, his eyes never leaving mine. “Just wondering if you’re tired of pretending this thing between me and you don’t mean nothing?”
I didn’t answer, mostly because I didn’t know what this was. Instead, I reached for his shirt and dragged him into one of the darker corners of the exhibit, away from the cameras that weren’t supposed to be recording and the sensors that had been shut off hours ago.
The bench beneath the stained-glass skylight was cool against the back of my thighs as I knelt in front of him. I didn’t ask for permission, and he didn’t offer a word of protest when I unzipped his pants and freed his dick.
I took my time, stroking him slowly, keeping my eyes locked on his. Dallas liked being in charge, but he allowed me to take the lead, and I appreciated his willingness to meet me halfway. It showed just how much power I had over him.
When I wrapped my lips around him, his head tipped back against the stone wall, and the sound he made was low, raw, and meant only for me. His fingers threaded into my curls, not to guide me, but to anchor himself as I worked him over with steady pressure and a mouth that didn’t believe in mercy.
I sucked him slow, deep, and with intention, letting my tongue drag against every part of him until I felt his thighs tense and his breath hitch.
“Fuck, Sophia,” he groaned, his voice thick with grit.
I kept going and didn’t stop when his grip tightened, nor when his hips started to rise. I didn’t even stop when he came, hard and fast, his jaw clenched and his free hand gripping the back of my neck like he needed something to hold onto.
I swallowed every drop without breaking eye contact, on my momma, I did. He tasted scrumptious.
As I pulled back, I heard a door open somewhere in the building, followed by the echo of footsteps. Dallas tucked himself away in record time, pulling me up with him just as the security rotation started on the opposite end of the wing.
“We’ve got sixty seconds,” he whispered, grabbing the bag from where he’d dropped it earlier.
We moved fast down the hallway, slipped through the side corridor, and out the same door we came in through. The air outside felt colder, the adrenaline hadn’t worn off, and my lips were still swollen, but I was content in a way I hadn’t been in a long time.
We made it back to the car without a word between us. Once inside, I caught my breath, pulled out my phone, and realized it was still early to go home.
“I parked not far from Naeem and Tatum’s place,” I said, adjusting my jacket. “I can still make it to the engagement dinner. Are you going?”
Dallas shook his head before I could even finish my sentence. “No.”
I frowned. “Why not?”
He started the engine and pulled out of the parking lot. “Because it’s their night. I don’t want to make things more awkward for Felicity. Your brothers hate me, and she probably does too. I didn’t exactly ask her opinion on marrying Khalil to save our family’s ass.”
Dallas paused for a minute before continuing. “I can’t say I blame Felicity if she hates me.” He shook his head as if the thought of it really bothered him. “I haven’t been a good big brother to her since my parents shipped her off to boarding school.”
I turned to him, my tone light despite the weight in his voice. “I like that you’re taking accountability for not being there for your sister, but when it comes to my brothers, you said they hate you like you’re not the reason behind the hate.”
Dallas grinned. “Oh, I’m definitely the reason. I just mean I’m not mad about it, and will likely keep on making them hate me.”
I laughed, then looked back out the window. “You’re ridiculous.”
“And you’re still in this car,” he replied with a chuckle.
I rolled my eyes, but he wasn’t wrong. I could’ve gotten out after the museum, after the alley, after the parking lot, but I hadn’t.
“I was already dressed,” I said with a shrug.
His smirk deepened. “But did you wear that outfit to attend your brother’s engagement dinner?”
“I could have. It makes me look dangerous, and maybe I wanted to look like I was on a mission.”
“Well, you definitely did that,” he said, turning down a familiar street.
The road narrowed as we approached the edge of the neighborhood near Naeem and Tatum’s estate.
Trees lined the sidewalks like they were standing guard, and the occasional streetlamp flickered against the windshield.
I shifted in my seat, already thinking about what I would say when I finally arrived because they would certainly want to know why I was late.
I had just looked down at my phone to reply to Riley’s text when a car swerved into our lane.
Sitting up straight, I dropped the phone and gripped the door handle, my heart lurching in my chest. Headlights flooded the front of Dallas’s vehicle, both bright and blinding, erasing everything else in view.
The tires screamed against the pavement as he jerked the wheel hard to the right, narrowly avoiding a head-on collision.
The other car swerved at the last possible second, crossing back into its lane in a blur of motion and brake lights. But not before I saw her.
Through the windshield, clear as day, Felicity sat in the passenger seat, her face pale, her mouth slightly parted in shock. Her wide eyes locked on mine, and in that instant, everything else disappeared. I couldn’t hear the tires or the horn. I couldn’t feel the road beneath us.
I could only see her.
And then the car she was in spun out.
The sound of metal twisting and tires shrieking tore through the night as the vehicle lost control. It clipped the edge of a parked SUV, flipped onto its side, and skidded across the street before crashing into a low stone wall with a sickening, final impact.
For a second, everything froze. The only thing I could hear was the sound of my own breath, shaky and shallow, as smoke began to rise from the wreck.
Dallas swerved onto the side of the road and reached for the gear shift, ready to throw the car in park, but I slapped my hand over his.
“Don’t stop,” I said firmly. “Keep driving.”
He looked at me like I’d lost my mind. “Are you serious right now? We just watched that car flip—”
“I know what we saw,” I cut in, my voice harsher than I intended. “I saw Felicity in the passenger seat, and if she was in that car, then Khalil was most likely the one behind the wheel. We can’t be seen together. Not like this.”
“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” he shouted, slamming his fist against the steering wheel.
“We can’t be here,” I added quickly. “Not together. The treaty’s still fragile. If anyone catches us near that wreck, especially together, it will blow everything apart. My car is just one block over,” I told him. “Drop me there, and I’ll circle back.”
Dallas hesitated for half a second, jaw tight, eyes locked on the rearview like he was barely registering anything I said, but then he pressed his foot on the gas, driving us faster.
He didn’t say another word as we moved away from the scene, and neither did I. Not until we reached the end of the next block, where my car sat parked near a streetlight.
Before he could put the car in park, I was already reaching for the door.
“Wait a few minutes before you drive back to the scene. I’ll text you with an update on Felicity the moment I get there,” I said before stepping out.
“Make sure I get that text as soon as you get there.”
“I got you. I promise,” I replied before shutting the door behind me.
I jumped in my car and rushed back toward the crash, doing eighty miles per hour on a thirty-mile-per-hour road. Sirens were starting to build in the distance, growing louder by the second, and by the time I made it back to the wreck, the ambulance had arrived.