Page 60 of Dancing with the Devil

“I don’t give up either, so I’ll take my chances.”

He tucked a few loose strands behind my ear, and I could see the tornado of deviance in his eyes create chaos in his head.

“If the next few words that come out of your mouth aren’t you accepting the fact that I want to spend my money on you, without having an ulterior motive,” he paused, and I anxiously awaited his next few words. “I’ll buy an entire airline in your name. Or a yacht. Depending on your preference, of course.”

My lips slightly parted. “You wouldn’t,” I challenged him.

“You’ll have both in your name by tomorrow,” he noted, pulling his cellphone out of his pocket, and my eyes nearly fell from their sockets. “Let’s add another car to that list since you like the ones I had already bought.”

I quickly responded. “I’d just sell it.”

“You’d still have the money.”

“I’d donate the money.”

He didn’t glance up at me once as he typed away on his phone. “The donation would still be from you.”Oh, fuck me in the ass with a chainsaw, he’s right.

With a clenched jaw and a body filled with reluctance, I gave in. “Okay, okay.” I grabbed his phone, making him finally look at me. “You win,” I mumbled under my breath.

“Say that again.”

“You—win,” I slowly enunciated the words, and a grin of victory danced on his lips. I narrowed my eyes at him. “You’re evil.”

“And you should know better than to challenge me,” he gently caressed my thigh with his thumb.

“Yes,sir,” I mused with a smile on my face. “Can I go and get ready now?” I asked, dropping the smile, and he gave me a single nod.

He didn’t let go of my thigh, so I pulled his hand off me and dramatically dropped it back on his own thigh, handing him his phone. I got up, feeling his eyes on me as I left. This man is going to drive me insane.

* * *

Antonio opened the front door for me as I left with my phone pressed between my ear and shoulder since my hands were occupied with my coat, handbag, lip gloss, and water bottle.

“Yes, I’m coming tonight. Yes, I’m performing. No, I didn’t—thank you,” I said to Antonio as he opened his car door for me. “No, I didn’t die,” I confirmed, getting inside. I dropped everything on my lap, taking my cell phone in my hand. “No, he’s not holding me hostage,” I reluctantly whispered as he startedthe ignition. “Sorry,” I mouthed as his eyes landed on me in confusion.

Thankfully, we arrived at the club in no time. “I’ll be here on time to pick you up,” he said, and my head snapped to him.Is he not staying?

“Okay,” I nodded. I got out, and only after I was halfway inside did I hear his car pull away. Men and their noisy cars. Their most successful relationships.

“Finally!” Silvia engulfed me in her arms. “It’s been three hundred years,” she groaned, squeezing me. I really adore my dramatic best friend. “Show me,” Silvia giggled as we got to the dressing room.

I fanned myself, and she grabbed my hand. “Ah!” she squealed. “It’s huge! And shiny! And expensive looking! And a dream come true!” she said, fanning her fake tears away. “He gave this to you as an engagement ring?” she jutted out her bottom lip.

“Yep,” I nodded.

We quickly plopped down and I shared everything that had been happening so far until we finally needed to get back to work. We weren’t keen, but unfortunately, gossip and girl talkhadto wait.

Giovanni didn’t show today, which made me a little sad. I performed after Silvia and London’s duet but it didn’t feel the same with him not here. I hoped he was okay. Missing my performances was not like him, especially without warning.

I got off stage and slipped my engagement ring back on before grabbing my coat. I looked up to see Antonio at my table accompanied by three other men that I didn’t receive. I felt my lungs tighten in my chest as he finished his drink—conversing with them. I walked over and he licked his bottom lip. “I don’t like it,” he slowly shook his head, and all eyes fell on him.

“What?” I gasped. “My performance? Or was it my outfit?” I frowned in confusion. “Oh God, is it my hair?” I fearfully asked, reaching up to feel my hair. I ran my hands down my hair in an attempt to tame it.

“I don’t like how all the men in here areeye fuckingmy girl,” he said, leaning back and my shoulders dropped. And once again, he’s mocking me.

“You’re not funny,” I crossed my arms over my chest. “And, don’t, use my own words against me.”

He dismissed the men, and after excusing themselves, they headed to another table.