Page 52 of Taken by the Mafia King (Kings of Philly #1)

KILLIAN

S era’s behavior intrigued me.

Finding out her father had betrayed her must have been upsetting to her, but her demeanor had shifted in an unexpected direction. Then again, this woman was full of surprises.

Her expression was nothing but ice as I led her into the back of the house, an area where she’d never been before. Down a short flight of stairs was a door, and beyond that, my garage.

I watched her as the lights came on and a row of cars came into view. That steel-faced mask she’d put on like makeup cracked a bit as surprise flashed over her exquisite face.

“Which one?” I asked, motioning to the cars.

She tilted her chin to the ceiling, slowly sucking a breath as if trying to keep a hold on her composure. Then her eyes lingered on my blacked-out Ferrari Roma.

“Good choice.” I smiled and left her behind to gawk as I opened the passenger door for her.

“Where are we going?”

“I own a few clubs. I thought you needed to get out of the house for a while. Unless you’d prefer to go back to your room?”

That got her moving.

I sat behind the wheel, and she slid into the passenger seat beside me. Her dark eyes searched mine for more information. Nothing got past her. She knew I wasn’t telling her everything.

The weight of her eyes followed me as I pulled out of the garage and sped toward the gate.

The engine sent a steady vibration through the interior of the sports car.

I glanced over at her as we drove past the security booth and along the straight driveway that stretched for miles.

I held her gaze as I pressed down on the gas.

Turning back to the road, I could see from the corner of my eye that she didn’t flinch or look away from me as we topped eighty, then ninety miles an hour.

“It’d be a waste of a car if this is how you plan to give me the end I asked for earlier.”

“I’m taking you out, just not in that way.” I chuckled at my own play on words and slowed for a turn. Sera finally looked away from me, her eyes focused out the windshield as we continued to fly down the road.

This was in no way a date. Taking her to the club had been an afterthought, one I should’ve reconsidered. But she’d been locked up in one place for weeks now and based on her attitude and disposition, she’d most definitely started to crack. It would do her some good to have a change of scenery.

At one point, I had wanted to see her crumble. I’d wanted to wear her down and make her pliable to my will. In some ways, she’d already submitted to me, and the thought of it thrilled me.

I ran my tongue over my teeth as I glanced at her long legs in that tight dress.

It revealed almost everything to me—everything I’d already consumed but couldn’t get enough of.

Pulling into a parking garage, I wondered if this was a mistake.

If she was still contemplating running from me, now would be the perfect opportunity for her.

Her present disposition made me think the urge to flee had subsided. For now.

Situated at the very top of One South Broad , one of the tallest buildings in Philadelphia, Diavola wasn’t the sort of club just anyone could get into. It was my gem, my prize, and admission was a sacred affair. Inside the walls that towered over the city, debauchery reigned.

A private elevator took me and my angel into the clouds. When the doors opened, I laid her hand in the crook of my elbow and we stepped out into the flashing lights and velvet-coated interior.

Dancers dressed in scraps of silk moved across a circular stage in the center of the room, surrounded by people milling about and writhing to the music. Sera didn’t wince at the noise and nakedness. If anything, she seemed to suddenly glow with anticipation.

“Like what you see?” I whispered in her ear, brushing my words over her jaw and neck in a soft, teasing kiss.

She shivered. “So far,” she replied, looking up at me.

I brushed my thumb along her jaw. “You’re being a good girl now.” I tilted my head toward the bar. “Go get a drink. Enjoy yourself.”

“And what if I sneak out of here and run?” She laid her hand on my chest, fingers toying with the buttons of my shirt.

I searched her eyes. “I dare you.”

She smiled at me, and I hoped she didn’t call my bluff. My guards had no idea who she was, and I didn’t have time to tell them. I’d just have to trust her.

Over the top of her head I saw the man I’d come here to meet. Another boss and ally who claimed to have information about Giuseppe and his allegiances. “Meet me in the VIP in thirty minutes.”

My hand grazed her back, fingers brushing her ass, before I turned her around and nudged her toward the bar. She looked over her shoulder at me, hair swaying like ribbons of pure, dark silk in the dim light. Beautiful.

My meeting went exactly how I knew it would go.

Old alliances were reaffirmed. Finished, I excused myself from the table and made my way toward the VIP area, watching Sera as she danced, alone, with a drink in hand.

She was lost to the music and the steady thrum of the bass, her eyes closed.

When they fluttered open, she saw me coming toward her, and a soft smile tugged at the corners of her ruby red lips.

I nodded to her, then tilted my head toward the heavy black velvet curtains that shielded the private section from the rest of the club.

Shaking her head, she hooked a finger at me, beckoning me to join her on the dance floor.

The martini glass in her hand empty, she set it on a shelf behind her, next to three more. Her eyes were slightly glassy, and her smile was wider than I’d ever seen it.

Shit.

I’d underestimated how little it would take for someone kept prisoner and given only small glasses of wine here and there to get wasted.

She wrapped her arms around my waist when I reached her and knitted her fingers into the back of my shirt.

“You’re drunk, tesoro ,” I warned. “How many martinis have you had?”

She traced a finger down my chest. “Dance with me.” Her hair cascaded down her back, her breasts arching up to meet me.

The urge to take her right there on the dance floor overwhelmed me.

I imagined lifting her up and carrying her back to the VIP area where our booth was sheltered from wandering eyes.

I’d bunch that scrap of fabric over her waist and spread her legs wide before dragging my cock through her wet, hot slit.

But I couldn’t be seen with Sera’s hands on me like this in public. This club was probably the safest place I could be out with her, but still, people talked. And some of those people wanted to take her from me.

Time to go.

“I was going to feed you dinner,” I breathed, “but now I think I should take you home.”

“No,” she pouted, her hands falling down toward my belt.

“Another time.” Taking her by the arm, I gripped her firmly and led her out of the club.

In the silence of the elevator, as we sped toward the underground parking garage, she leaned into me, her ass pressed against my cock. I held her hips, biting down on my lip as she swayed to silent music.

I wouldn’t fuck her when she was drunk. I wouldn’t take advantage of her, not when so many had already tried.

“I want you,” she whispered.

“You shouldn’t.”