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23

SADIE

This dress, if I can even call it that, is completely sheer black material. It’s covered in small satin polka-dots and satin edges around the collar, arms, waist, and bottom. The undergarments—bra, panties and garters, which are clearly visible—are also black satin and leave little to the imagination. Thankfully, Matteo was considerate enough to put me in bikini underwear and not a G-string. It’s too cold this time of year, not that this outfit will do anything about keeping me warm.

I’m sitting in the back of a limousine with Matteo and Sergio, bouncing my leg and trying to get rid of my nervous energy. It’s not the auction party that has my nerves on edge. It’s the fact this outfit leaves me with nowhere to hide a weapon. Thery’d be visible to everyone. I tried to hide a knife in my bra, but Matteo vetoed the idea in case we’re asked to have me strip in front of anyone.

That thought did nothing to help my nerves.

Thankfully, Matteo thought far enough ahead to put me in a long black wool trench coat before leaving his penthouse or we might have gotten arrested for indecent exposure.

“Stop fidgeting, Dolcezza. You’ll do fine.” Matteo reassures me.

“Easy for you to say. You have two guns strapped to your body, while I’m left with only my hands to defend myself.” I huff.

“You’ve been taught well enough to only need your hands.” Sergio says, taking offense to my remark. He prides himself on how well he’s trained me, though he’s still a little salty about me throwing a knife at him.

“It’s not about whether I’m trained or not. It’s about what makes me feel more comfortable.” Just to fuel his annoyance, I say the words with a little extra sweetness and a practiced, fake smile. “I know how to defend myself, but I would feel better if I had a weapon to slow an attacker down if need be.”

“There will be no need.” Matteo grips my knee gently. “I will be watching you the whole time. No one will touch you without permission. If they do, I’ll cut off their hand. Understood?”

I nod because what else is there to say to that. His confidence and reassurance help, but I still can’t shake this feeling that something bad is about to happen at this party. I can feel it in my gut.

When we pull up to the Whittmore Hotel, I have to fight to keep the scowl off my face. The bastards who used to own this place were the ones who thought they could buy my best friend. The son, Kyle, thought he was going to marry her and turn her into his little whore. Once he grew bored with her, his plan was to kill her and take her inheritance. Luckily, Jake and the Kings got to Kyle first.

But who owns the hotel now?

I make a mental note to do some research when we get back tonight.

The three of us enter the lobby, a stark white space with only the paisley patterned carpet and pops of red and gray in the furniture to give the room some warmth. Even the tile floors are white. It seems such a stark contrast to the dark things looming on the penthouse floor.

We don’t bother with the front desk and head straight to the elevator where Matteo puts in the special room key he received with an all-black invitation via currier this morning. The elevator passes each floor one at a time until, my stomach dropping a little with each passing number until we get to the top floor and the doors open.

This is not a penthouse suite. This is a club. One very similar to the Mansion, only on a much smaller scale.

The elevator opens to a dim red-lit hallway. People in various stages of undress line the walls. Some are making out while others are snorting cocaine off the back of their hands. Music thumps from somewhere down the hall, where strobe lights and lasers can be seen flickering about.

Matteo grips my hand tightly in his and whispers in my ear, “You will stay by my side at all times. Same rules as last time. Do not speak unless I give permission, and you will only drink or eat what I or Sergio gives you personally. Do you understand?”

Gazing up at him, as the sweet, obedient submissive this crowd must perceive me as, I answer, “Of course. Understood, sir. Whatever you wish.” Matteo smiles and caresses my cheek with the back of his hand.

“You are such a good girl, Dolcezza.” He says it so anyone around us can hear, then shocks the hell out of me with his next words. “Remove your coat and hand it to Sergio.”

I swallow hard as I begin to unbutton my coat, one black button at a time.

We’ve prepared for this. Nothing will happen to you. Matteo and Sergio will make certain you are safe.

I mentally give myself a pep talk while never taking my eyes off Matteo’s, needing his reassurance to bolster my confidence. Once the coat is off my shoulders, Sergio releases it the rest of the way then stomps off to put it away.

“You look beautiful, Pet.”

Show time.

Pet is our code word for when we are being watched with interest. It’s my one warning to be on my best behavior and also alert. I give Matteo a curt nod and smile back at him.

As we make our way further, the hall opens up into a large two-level night club. The top level looks to be an observation lounge that surrounds the dance floor and bar area. It’s lined with high-back booths, and fancy couches with glass tables and topless women serving bottle service to the patrons up there.

The lower level is a wide-open dance floor with a DJ and a raised stage with poles and cages strewn about in strategic areas. Men and women in the cages are wearing nothing but G-strings and knee-high boots. The bar runs along the back wall with hallways leading to the restrooms on either side. There are a few couches and lounge areas down here too where couples are making out and fucking in the open. If it wasn’t for the opulence and the wealthy people I’ve seen in the crowd, it could easily be mistaken for a Kings’ party back in the day.

Several of the men and women are familiar. Some of them I remember from the gala the other night. I recognize the creepy shipping store owner, Lester Boulvine and Senator McAlister upstairs seated at a table together. Mr. Boulvine has a young woman seated at his feet on the floor, the top of her dress is bunched at her waist, her breasts on full display. Her head is bowed, her body swaying slightly though she makes no sound or expression while the grimy bastard plucks her nipples every so often with his fingers. He’s not paying her any other attention as he’s deep in discussion with another man I recognize to be an old history teacher at Vandenberg Prep.

The glass table in front of them has a glass mirror and white powder strewn about. A container with what looks to be short straws in the center.

“Communal coke?” I whisper under my breath. “Or did he slip something else in her drink?” I ask quietly noticing a bottle of pills sitting in front of Mr. Boulvine’s glass.

“You will not be partaking in anything on that table.” Matteo commands.

He doesn’t have to tell me twice. I don’t trust any of these fuckers not to drug me or worse. I’m almost certain that’s what’s wrong with the woman knelt beside him on the floor. She’s probably coked out of her mind and doesn’t know what’s being done to her.

“Understood, sir.”

“Good girl.” Matteo kisses my temple, then leads me by the hand to a table across the room from the Senator and his guests.

Another couple to our right are full on fucking against the wall in a corner. Her body is completely naked, while he’s still fully clothed except for his pants hanging down under his naked ass. Neither seems to notice, or care that they have an audience. The two men seated at a table closest to them are quietly observing the couple. One appears to be jerking off at the sight.

Sergio meets us at the table, taking a seat on the other side of me, placing me out of reach to anyone who would join us. Three other men in suits with earpieces approach the table. Matteo nods, speaking in Italian to them. The one in the middle responds, then with a curt nod they all disperse about the room.

“You brought security? But how did you get them inside?” I ask, shocked. “It’s invitation only.”

Matteo chuckles. “Yes, and I stated when I RSVP’d that I would be bringing my men with me, or I would not attend.”

“And they just bent the rules for you?”

He leans in closely. “No, Dolcezza. They bent the rules for you. Apparently, someone here is very interested in meeting my companion. I refused to bring you with me if I could not guarantee your safety.”

“Who?”

Matteo shrugs. “I was not told who the interested party was, only that they wish to meet you and would pay handsomely for a few hours of your time to get to know you.”

“You pimped me out?” I keep my voice low, and my face as expressionless as possible, but I have no doubt Matteo can feel the anger rolling off me in waves.

“No, Pet.” It’s a warning. “You will not be shared with anyone this evening. Perhaps another time.” He says the words so smoothly, anyone around us would have trouble not believing we’ve shared each other with others before.

Sergio comes back and hands Matteo two glasses. One with whiskey for Matteo and another with wine for me. “Drink.”

I do as he says, sipping my glass of red wine while he and Sergio speak among themselves. A few men approach the table and ask Matteo about his business, looking for an opportunity to work with the Parisi family.

I’m halfway through my drink when I start to feel a bit buzzed. Far more than I should from only a half a glass. Matteo is deep in conversation with a woman named Clarissa Rothchild. She’s eye fucking the hell out of him as they speak. Matteo show’s no real interest, but when she asks if we’re together I hear him tell her, “We’re together for the time being.” She must like the idea that I’m not a permanent part of his life because she turns up the charm, raking her nails over his suit and laughing a little too hard at his jokes.

It’s strange how unaffected I am by this woman touching him. Not like I was when I saw Agent Galina putting her paws all over Nathaniel. I wanted to cut the bitch from throat to navel for having the audacity to touch him after she willingly tried to set him up as a murderer. I’m no fool. I know Hawk has blood on his hands. I’m not na?ve to the way they handle things when the justice system fails. But she was going to send him to prison just to get herself one more rung up the ladder.

My stomach rolls, and my face feels hot. I know better than to drink on an empty stomach, but I was nervous for tonight and thought it was best not to eat before we came. I reach for Matteo’s hand and his eyes immediately come to meet mine.

“Dolcezza?” He frowns. His eyes are full of concern.

I smile politely. “I think I need the restroom.” He nods to Sergio who stands grabbing my elbow and begins escorting me to the restroom.

“Stay with her. Do not leave her alone.”

“Yes, sir.” Sergio responds. As we move through the crowd, my eyes begin to blur a bit and my mouth feels dry. “Are you all right, girl?”

“I don’t know. I think there was something in my drink.” My words are a little slurred.

“Impossible. One of our own men got your drinks for you and the boss, and the boss seems fine. Maybe theirs is the cheap ass wine and not the good stuff we have at home.” Sergio attempts to joke. I don’t smile. I can’t.

He knocks on the restroom door. When no one answers, he pushed the door open and ushers me inside. “I’ll wait right here for you. If you need anything, shout my name.”

I nod, pushing past him to get to the sink. Turning on the cold water, I splash some on my face and neck. My body feels like it’s on fire and I can’t seem to get cool enough. Cupping my hands, I drink some water, trying to soothe the flames from inside my belly.

The collar of my dress feels too tight. Reaching around, I begin untying the bow at my waist and unhooking the buttons that run down my back until the dress is a pool of fabric at my feet and drop to the cold tile floor and sit.

After a few minutes, maybe an hour, I honestly don’t know, I begin to feel a little better, but my head still feels fuzzy.

“Are you all right, my dear?” A woman’s voice says from somewhere above me. It’s a familiar voice, but I can’t quite place it.

“I’m n-not feeling well.” I keep my eyes closed to keep the world from spinning. “I need to go home.”

“All right, then. Let’s help you up, and we’ll get you some place where you can be more comfortable.” The woman says. “Here, let me help you.”

I take her offered hand, but don’t look up, keeping my eyes on the ground away from the harsh lights of the bathroom. Once I’m on my feet, she places her hand on the small of my back, then opens the door. The music is still playing loudly. The party still in full swing. When we step out of the door and into the hallway, Sergio is no longer standing there.

“Come, dear. Follow me. I’ll take you to a room where it’s quiet and you won’t be disturbed.” We make it about five steps when a familiar voice calls my name.

“Sadie!”

“Nathaniel?”

“I’m here, baby. What the fuck happened? Where are your clothes?” He grips my arms holding me steady. I must be hallucinating if he’s here with me. Right?

“The woman was going to take me to a room. I don’t feel well. I need to lie down.”

“What woman? There’s no woman with you. You just walked out of the bathroom in nothing but a bra and panties and stumbled your way into the bar area.” I chance a glance at his face. Placing my hands on his cheeks to make sure it’s really him.

“What are you doing here?” I ask him, still not certain I can trust my own eyes.

“I came with…a date.” His words come out gravelly. “Who are you here with?”

I bite back the hurt I feel. The pain of knowing he’s chosen someone else already. Moved on from me. I answer his question with a painful whisper, “Matteo.” Hawk lets out a disapproving growl. “Where’s Sergio? He was supposed to stand at the door.”

“We’ll figure it out.” Hawk takes off his suit jacket and tosses it over my shoulders. I grip the lapels and inhale deeply, getting lost in the scent of cinnamon and smoke that is all Nathaniel. I feel him place his arm over my shoulder as he ushers me through the crowd. We come to a sudden stop in the center of the dance floor when a woman’s voice shouts for Hawk to take his hands off me. The sound is shrill and full of jealousy. She must grip his arms or start assaulting him because my body gets tossed aside, making my head feel worse. My pulse picks up, my body feels clammy, and my knees buckle. My ass hits the floor with a hard thud. I hear the shuffling of feet and the slight breeze across my skin as people begin to move away from us.

The woman shouts again, and this time I look up to meet her glare. She’s pointing at me. Screaming about me being a whore and her feeling betrayed. It’s that moment I recognize who she is, and though my words are slurred, I still feel the need to tell her off.

“You’re one to t-talk. You’re a fuck-king fed-deral a-agent using h-him as your c-cover.” Then everything happens so fast and yet I still feel like I’m moving in slow motion.

There are men shouting. Matteo. Hawk. Others I can’t decipher.

People around me are screaming and then there’s the sound of several shots being fired. I cover my head not understanding what’s going on around me and not able to move fast enough to get to any kind of cover. People are running past me. One steps on my calf on their way out. The dim red lights of the room and whatever the hell was in my drink are making me feel nauseous.

When I can no longer hear guns being fired, I chance a look and see Nathaniel flat on his back on the ground a few feet away and a puddle of blood near his head and shoulder. A scream rips through the air. I try to crawl to him, but I can’t seem to make my body move.

I barely make out Matteo’s large body looming over me as he’s shouting orders to his men. I don’t see Sergio, but I recognize the other men from earlier. A set of strong arms reach under me, lifting me up and cradling me close. Hawk’s jacket is tucked tightly around me and suddenly I’m moving.

“Help him!” I shout. At least I think I do.

“I’m sorry, Dolcezza. I don’t know how this happened to you, but I will find out.” Matteo’s voice soothes something inside me, allowing me to relax against his hold, but it’s a short-lived sense of peace. Darkness trickles around the edges of my eyes. I’m fighting like hell to stay awake. I need to get to Nathaniel.

“Hawk.” I manage to get his name out past my dry lips. “He was here.”

“Yes, and I’m sorry about that too.” Matteo says sounding angry. “But I did what had to be done in order to save you both.”

I slowly lift my head. We’re outside the building now, approaching Matteo’s waiting limousine.

“Get her in the car. Call Doc. Have him meet us at the penthouse, and someone get Vincenzo down here, fucking now .” His voice is low and menacing. His men have flanked us, all keeping vigilant watch as he tucks me into the waiting car. My stomach rolls again. I can’t hold my own head up. The darkness is closing in on me.

The last thing I hear before the darkness takes me under is Matteo’s voice saying, “Get a cleaning crew down here. We may have a problem on our hands.”

Oh fuck.