Page 10

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ADELINA

“ A delina!” Marie teeters toward me on her six-inch heels, a giant smile spreading across her face the second she locks eyes with me across the street. “You came!”

“Of course I did!” I laugh, glancing up and down the road and then hurrying to meet her in the middle. “Did you think I’d stand you up?”

She clutches at my bare shoulders when we clash in the middle of the street. “The last time you tried to organize a night out with me last week, you went super quiet for like four days. So this time when you called, I was kind of sure you were going to stand me up.”

“I would never!” We collapse into a pile of giggles and hugging, then Marie takes her time to admire the silver ruffle dress I’ve squeezed myself into. By some stroke of luck, she’s also in silver, only her dress is sequined and her skin glitters with body glitter under the streetlight.

“So, how did you sneak any from your husband?” Marie waggles her brows as she links arms with me and we head toward the club.

“I didn’t sneak.” I laugh. The lie comes as smooth as butter.

It was almost too easy to trick the guards once I’d learned their routine. After Raffaele decided to be a dick and tell me I couldn’t leave, escaping was all I could think about. But with Levi having access to my phone, I had to be clever and only organized this night through phone calls that couldn’t alert Levi to anything. Then it was pretty easy to flood the bathroom and start a fire in the trash can, then hide it in the closet and wait for the smoke alarm to cause commotion.

Sneaking away during that fiasco was thrilling, and my heart still races even though I’ve been free from the estate for over an hour. Now I plan to spend the rest of the night drinking and partying to show Raffaele that it’s completely fine for me to go out and do the normal stuff in my life that I’m used to doing.

“I simply told him I was going out and there was nothing he could do about it,” I say as we slot into the queue for the club. Rainbow lights from the club illuminate Marie’s eyes as she laughs and shakes her head, and even from outside, the thrum of the bass music can be felt all the way up into my breastbone. It’s a strangely addictive feeling, and I can’t wait until the music is the only thing I feel.

“He could have come out with us,” Marie says. “I wouldn’t have minded.”

“I would have.” I snort.

“Oh, trouble in married paradise?” She winks at me. “Spill!”

The urge to tell her the truth is strong. I’m not sure how much Marie would even believe. I’d lose her as soon as I told her that the real power in this city was with the families involved in organized crime and not the police. And as soon as I started talking about heirs, traditional laws, and rules, she’d either think I was crazy or try to have me arrested.

So instead, I try to spin my frustrations into something ordinary.

“It’s just an adjustment, y’know? I’m used to living my life as me and doing the things I like. I miss the hospital, and living in a new place is affecting my art. I now have more to think about than just fundraisers. And how he does things is different from me.”

“Isn’t this the sort of stuff you discuss before you get married?” She raises one perfectly penciled brow.

“Kind of.” I laugh. “But it’s all small stuff like… do you floss and then brush, or brush and then floss? How do you cook your pasta? How long should a shower be because of the bills and stuff?”

Marie suddenly barks out a loud laugh. “I saw where he lives, remember? If he’s anal about the bills, then girl, you need to suck his dick to lighten him up or something.”

“Marie!”

“What?” She breaks out into a fit of giggles. “Am I wrong? All of that stuff is so mundane when he’s that hot.”

I nudge into her, and she nearly falls over in her heels, which sends us both into a fit of laughter. I imagine her response would be so different if I told her the truth about his not wanting me to leave or treating me like property, but that kind of truth can’t be spoken. Instead, it’s easier to vent about mundane lies just for a bit of sympathy.

“Maybe you’re right.” I grin as we reach the doors. “Anyway, it doesn’t matter. Let’s dance!”

“Yes, girl!”

The night kicks off with two fruity cocktails and enough dancing to give me the best workout I’ve had in weeks. After a few song changes, Marie wants to leave, so we abandon that club and head to another down the street. Another drink, another thirty minutes of dancing and expensive shots drive us to a third club. It’s like I’m a teenager again and nothing else matters. With every drink, the music hits better and the pain from my heels fades into nothing. All I care about is dancing the night away, watching Marie have the time of her life, and forgetting all about my life and responsibilities.

The next club we arrive at has a deal on drinks, which has Marie over the moon. After a water break and the longest piss of my life, we’re back on the dance floor weaving to Shakira and music with beats so powerful that my teeth shake.

I feel more alive than I have in months.

Eventually, my throat is dry, so Marie and I stumble toward the bar, giggling uncontrollably and sagging against one another while we wait for the bartender to notice us.

“I’m gonna regret this in the morning.” Marie giggles. “I should have worn different shoes.”

Blinking through the slight alcohol fuzziness, I lean away from the bar and gaze down her long legs to her gorgeous shoes. It’s impossible to tell how her feet are in the low light, so I pat her shoulder and giggle. “You’re fine.”

“Really?” She looks at me with wide eyes, which makes me laugh harder.

“Totally!”

“Amazing.” She puffs out her cheeks and sags into me. “I love you.”

“Love you too.” I force a few calm breaths and shake my sweat-soaked hair away from my shoulders, then I raise my hand to catch the bartender’s attention. Just as I do, two men in tight black T-shirts appear on either side of us.

“Evening, ladies,” says one with a charming smile and golden skin. “Can we buy you a drink?”

My instinct is to say no, but Marie looks one of the men up and down like he’s the most delicious thing she’s ever seen. “I don’t know,” she purrs. “Can you?”

“It would be our pleasure,” says the man standing next to me. He’s tall with jet black hair and muscles for days. He’s attractive, but as I look up at him, Raffaele pops into my mind. Now that man is gorgeous, and this stranger doesn’t hold a candle to him in the looks department. But I won’t say no to a free drink.

“Whaddaya say?” Marie giggles in my ear, not as quietly as she might think. “It’s free booze, right?”

My thumb skims over my palm to the warm ring around my finger. It’s not like we’re in a relationship. My marriage is just a business deal, and feeling desirable for a free drink can’t hurt, right?

“Alright.” I smile up at the man. “If you can get the bartender’s attention before us, sure. You can buy us a drink.”

“Excellent.” The man next to me smiles. “I’m Jim, by the way.”

“Adelina.”

“Marie!”

“I’m Geoff.” The other man chuckles. “Nice to meet you, Marie.”

“Mmhmm, you bet it is.”

“So, what brings you out, Adelina?” Jim asks, leaning on the bar with one arm.

My eyes are immediately drawn to where the muscles of his arm bugle out and my pounding heart begins to race faster. “We’re just having a girls’ night.”

“No men allowed, then?” He gives me an easy smile.

“Depends,” I say. “What have you got to offer?”

Jim snaps his fingers, and the bartender is in front of us a second later. “A drink, for one.”

Impressed by how quickly they got the bartender’s attention, Marie throws her arm around Geoff’s shoulders and cheers.

“Cool.” I smile. “What other tricks do you have up your sleeve?”

Jim winks at me. “How long have you got?”

We order a few more cocktails while Jim and Geoff choose beers. Marie shares details about her college course, her aspiration to start her private practice, and her interest in cosmetic surgery. The music thumps and the lights flash, and both men appear to be enjoying themselves while they’re with us.

I quickly see where this is going. In the beginning, I was kind of into Jim, and the thought of getting together to one-up Rafaele was exciting, but when Jim suddenly moves in for a kiss, my stomach turns.

Is it guilt? I’m hardly betraying Raffaele when we aren’t anything in the first place.

Is it because of Carlos?

No, this is different. My stomach tightens, and what feels like guilt suddenly turns into a very real urge to throw up. Jim gets closer, but before he kisses me, I place my hand on his sticky chest and push him back.

I can’t even finish my drink.

“Hold on,” I groan. “I think… I think I need some air. Marie?”

Marie is mid-laugh, but she turns to me and her brows immediately pinch. “Adelina?”

“I think I need some air!” I yell over the music. “Can we…?” I tilt my head, and Marie nods quickly.

“Don’t you go anywhere,” she orders Geoff, then she steps away from the bar to take my hand. Out of nowhere, Marie overbalances and hits the floor in a fit of giggles, and when I reach to help her up, my world lurches and I nearly join her. The only thing that stops me is a strong arm around my waist, but the pressure against my stomach drives the hot nausea higher.

What is wrong with me? Sure, we’ve been drinking all night, but we’ve been on low-content cocktails, not hard spirits. I try to push the arm away while trying to explain that the pressure is making me ill and I just need some fresh air, but the words tangle on my tongue.

I blink and Marie is gone. A sea of people are in the way, and the heat of the club becomes smothering. I can’t breathe. I can’t move. I can’t think through a sudden fog in my mind, and when I try to focus on what I am doing—getting outside—the thoughts escape me like mist.

Another blink and suddenly, warm night air washes over me. My head tips back and the stars above me blur into moisture clinging to my eyelashes. I’m overheating. It’s like my blood is boiling, and the arm around my body is tightening with each passing second.

“Wait—” I try to push the contact away, and when I’m released, I overbalance and hit the wall. Rough brick grazes against my fingertips and digs into my palms. My purse slips from my wrist, and as I turn to try and catch it, a sobering sight freezes me to the spot.

Marie is completely unconscious, being carried over Geoff’s shoulder toward a black car.

“Marie!”

Oh, God.

Something is wrong.

My legs aren’t listening to me. My body is heating up to boiling point and pressure is swelling in my skull, making it impossible to see clearly. I watch as Marie is loaded into the back seat of the car. “Marie!” Is that even my voice? I can’t tell whether I’m screaming out loud or in my mind. As I stumble forward, a hand catches my forearm and I’m spun around to face Jim.

“Your turn,” comes his voice, although the sound seems to reach my ears long after his lips move. Alarm bells blare through my mind and I try to free my arm from his grip, but he’s unrelenting. Suddenly, he lets go, and I stumble right into Geoff. He spins me around, then slaps me so hard across the face that my entire cheek goes numb. My head snaps to the side and pain lances up the side of my neck.

I try to cry out, but I can’t get any noise out past my panting.

The last thing I see as they throw me into the trunk of the car is Jim with my purse in his hand and a cold smile across his lips.