Page 6

CHAPTER

SIX

ADALYN

T he next day I was in a surprisingly good mood, though that probably had a lot to do with the fact that I was finally leaving the house for the first time in almost four weeks. I had also recently found out that the meeting was an overnight thing, and it only added to my excitement. A night away from the mansion was just what I needed.

I had settled on a deep, smoky look for the occasion, pairing it with a gorgeous black dress that ended at the knee. It was completely backless and featured an exaggerated waist-deep V at the front that showed off my curves. A pair of strappy black heels and matching clutch completed my ensemble. With a final spritz of hairspray on my meticulously pinned hair, I heaved my stuffed duffle downstairs to meet Jesse at eight o’clock on the dot.

He let out a low whistle as I descended the stairs.

“You look…hot as fuck.” He wasn’t exactly reticent with his gaze, and I felt a blush creep across my skin.

He took my bag as soon as my feet kissed the floor and led the way outside to his SUV. I climbed into the front and messed about turning on something upbeat while Jesse climbed into the driver’s side.

It took a few minutes to exit the grounds of the house but then we were cruising through the streets with lights flashing past us.

“Don’t try anything stupid tonight, Bandit.” Jesse warned after a few minutes.

“I wasn’t planning on it.” I said truthfully. I knew it wouldn’t get me anywhere even if I did. He would probably just drag my ass back here anyway. “I like having some freedom.”

“Good.” He sighed. “When we get there, Alonso and my team will stay with you.”

“Where are you going?” I questioned, feeling a bit worried about being left with Mafiosos that would undoubtedly want to kill me.

“I am accompanying Marco in the meeting,” Jesse answered, a sly smile on his face. “Why? Gonna miss me?” He winked.

“Who is Alonso?” I asked, ignoring his jibe.

The lights on the dash illuminated his smirk. “Alonso is my number two. Don’t worry, you’ll be in safe hands.”

We drove until the small brick buildings had turned into towering stone ones, interspersed with skyscrapers built of glass. Streetlights and glowing neon signs lit up the darkening night sky as pedestrians littered the streets, collecting in groups and making their way to various restaurants or nightclubs for the evening. My excitement began to grow as we pulled out in front of a particularly luxurious building with crowds of people queuing outside.

The car rolled to a stop and numerous people ogled the vehicle, craning their heads to see who was inside.

Jesse promptly came around and opened the door, escorting me onto the sidewalk. A security guard standing beside the club’s private entrance came forward as we approached, and Jesse tossed him the keys without so much as a glance.

“You get used to it.” Jesse whispered after seeing my discomfort, and I let him pull me the rest of the way inside the building.

We walked into a grand entryway, lined with black mirrors and a few steps that led down to the members only area. It was classy and totally unlike the stereotypical nightclub I had imagined we would be going to. Everything was modern and black, lit up with deep purple LEDs that emanated from hidden parts of the ceiling and lined every surface.

We made our way to the bar and the mingling crowd parted around us. Fear and awe painted on every face we passed, and it didn’t take a genius to work out what word would be on their lips: Mafia . Clearly Marco’s clientele was used to the spectacle of handguns and designer suits. I forgot just how intimidating Jesse looked to someone who didn’t know him…

We stopped opposite a Goliath of a man and Jesse slapped him on the back by way of greeting.

“Bandit, this is Alonso. Alonso, Bandit.” He introduced us.

Aside from being incredibly tall, Alonso was built like a brick shithouse and absolutely covered in muscle. He looked to be mid-thirties and had a distinctly rugged look about him, like he cut down trees or something in his spare time. Though, surprisingly, his eyes seemed kind and friendly.

“Bandit, Tom and the others are also here to keep an eye on you.” He gestured to three or so other burly young men standing behind Alonso. “Now, for the love of God, behave!”

He started to walk off, but I grabbed his arm.

“Where are you going?” I huffed, suddenly nervous to be away from him.

He patted my head condescendingly and I smacked him on the arm. He grinned.

“Over there.” He pointed to the corner of the room.

It was only then that I noticed a small, raised platform in the corner that housed a simple and very luxurious seating arrangement. Layton and Wyatt stood either side of its entrance, which meant that Marco was somewhere amongst the various people crowding the space. My eyes scanned the unfamiliar faces until my eyes landed on him. He was off to the side talking with another man who seemed slightly older, but my attention was quickly drawn to the scantily clad women sat on either side of them. Lapping at their stomachs and stroking down their legs seductively as they talked.

I scowled at the sight.

“Be careful you don’t catch anything,” I muttered, disgusted, and he grinned mischievously before heading off toward them.

I sighed, slightly annoyed I’d been left but happy to get a drink and try to enjoy my relative freedom.

I stood by the bar and settled in for the long wait for service, but all of twenty seconds passed before the bartender placed a coconut lime spritzer in front of me. I didn’t even have to ask.

I shot Alonso a curious look and he just smiled.

“Alonso, I don’t have any money to pay for this.” I admitted, leaning closer to him to shout over the music.

The poor guy had to lean halfway over just to hear my question, dwarfing me in the process.

“They know who you are, it just goes on the Boss’s tab.”

“One of the perks of being a captive, I take it?” I rolled my eyes, and he laughed. “What are you having?”

“Not allowed alcohol while on duty, Ma’am.” He smiled, holding up his bottle of water.

“Fantastic.” I groaned.

Drinking alone always sucked.

Not knowing exactly what to do and definitely not drunk enough to start dancing, I hovered by the bar drinking.

Half an hour later and my third cocktail finished—I was bored.

I glanced over to the booth where Marco was having his ‘business’ meeting to see if it showed any signs of finishing soon. Unfortunately for me, discussions seemed to still be in full swing with no end in sight.

The only thing I could think of to keep myself entertained was to get out onto the dance floor, but to do that by myself I needed to be drunker. Much drunker.

I ordered three shots of tequila, downed them one after another and then handed Alonso my clutch bag.

“I’ll be on the dance floor!” I yelled and sashayed off.

I quickly mingled with the crowd and started moving to the beat. The numbness of the alcohol started to bleed its way through my system, erasing all my worries and boredom with it as I moved.

God, I’ve missed this!

I rocked my hips to the heavy rhythm, and after a couple of songs, my dancing seemed to attract a fan. He was easy on the eyes in a typical bad-boy way and had an air of confidence that made me smile. We gravitated toward each other until he stood behind me with his hands on my hips. I began moving against him seductively, in time with the music. The guy definitely had moves and it was sexy as hell.

When his hands dropped, gripping dangerously low on my hips, I leaned my head against his shoulder and flashed him my best flirty smile. His head dropped and his lips pressed against my throat for a split second before he jerked away from me.

I stumbled forward violently and closed my eyes, knowing I was falling but incapable of stopping it.

“What the—" I half spluttered.

A strong arm wrapped around my waist, heaving me upright and pressing me against the side of a spicy scented chest.

“Guys, chill out! We were just dancing!” I heard an unfamiliar male voice yell.

I quickly peaked over my shoulder to see the guy I was with being dragged away by Alonso and Wyatt toward the exit. “Speak to me again and I’ll snap your fucking neck,” a powerful and, unfortunately, familiar , voice shouted back.

It was only then that I realized exactly whose side I was pressed against.

Shit.

My dance partner didn’t have time to answer as he was pulled through the crowd. His drunken eyes going in and out of focus as he went.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Marco demanded, pulling me away enough to glare down at me.

It took me a second, but I recovered from my initial shock. “I was dancing.”

“Like a slut?” He snapped. I scowled and tried to push away from him, but his grip was like an iron cage.

“You don’t have to be so mean. I was having fun.” I sulked childishly, crossing my arms across my chest.

The movement did not escape Marco’s attention, and his eyes caught there a moment.

Then a wicked idea came to my drunken mind.

He wants to call me a slut for dancing? Fine, I’ll show him one…

The next song bled into the one before and just as the new rhythm flooded the speakers, I turned in his arms and rolled my ass firmly into his crotch. I reached up my arm and clutched the back of his head in one hand, threading my fingers through his hair before I began moving as sensually as I could against him.

“Ada.”

I heard the warning in his voice but chose to ignore it, preferring to slut drop in front of him instead to give him a good view of my ass.

My blatant boldness stemmed mainly from the alcohol, but I would have been lying if I’d said it had nothing to do with the women in the booth as well. The moment I stood back up his arms wound around me even tighter, holding me still. I could feel his breath tickle against my neck.

“Stop. It.” His voice was tight as he spoke against my ear.

“Why? You don’t like my dancing, Marco?” I asked innocently, turning my face into his neck, leaving only millimeters of air between us.

The muscle in his jaw flicked but he remained silent.

I was getting to him, and it made me feel powerful and giddy all at once.

“My bet is that you do… Maybe even too much.” I brushed the words over his skin, teasing him.

“Let me remind you, Ada. This little game you’re playing only has one winner—me. I can do anything I want with you, and no one would dare to stop me. Remember that.” A shrill of excitement shot through my system at the brutal edge in his words.

“In your dreams.” I smirked and the muscle ticked in his jaw again.

He released me then and swiftly made a motion with his hand.

Jesse cut through the crowd with a goofy smile playing on his lips not a moment after.

“Stay with her.” Marco’s glare didn’t waver from my face as he continued speaking, switching over to Italian.

Jesse nodded a few moments later, agreeing to something somberly with all traces of his earlier playfulness eroded. With Jesse’s confirmation, Marco stalked back through the packed dance floor toward the general direction of the meeting.

When I turned to face Jesse, his good mood had once again recovered, and he bobbed his head to the beat.

I decided not to push my luck any further as I danced with him, only imitating grinding as opposed to actually grinding against him.

After a couple more songs I was beginning to overheat and in desperate need of another spritzer. When we approached the bar, my drink and a beer for Jesse were placed before us without even the need to ask.

“So, what the fuck is his problem?” I asked after a few glugs of my delicious cocktail.

“Oh, nothing really.” He shrugged dismissively, tipping back his beer.

“It didn’t seem like nothing. I was just dancing with some guy and then suddenly he’s getting dragged away.” I argued.

“Dancing!” Jesse scoffed.

“And? I can’t have a sexuality too?” I demanded. “You guys sit up there groping whatever girl you like and call it ‘business’. Yet when I do the same, I’m a slut. That’s double fucking standards.”

“Good point well made.” He laughed and clinked his beer against my glass. “But this is the Cosa Nostra and most of the men in it wouldn’t agree with you, Bandit.”

“You don’t say.” I rolled my eyes at him but knew better than to argue. He was right and whether I liked it or not, it didn’t matter.

With another few drinks in my system, I pulled Jesse back onto the dance floor.

The alcohol was making my head spin, and I latched onto him as we danced a second time. Unlike my previous partner, Jesse’s hands never strayed from my waist…no matter how much I rolled my hips. I was starting to think he never took a day off.

A few songs later, the buzz I was on started to morph into exhaustion and Jesse led the way through the mass of people to a pin-protected door off to the side. Alonso and the others were not far behind us, and when we emerged on the other side, I was surprised to find myself inside a sophisticated hotel lobby.

“Let me guess, Marco owns this building too.” I rolled my eyes as we stood in the elevator, going up.

“Yes, Ma’am,” Alonso answered.

When the bell pinged, announcing our floor, we exited into a short hallway housing a single double door. Once inside, an expansive and expensive penthouse suite greeted us. It was decorated in the same deep grey hues, abstract art, and masculine furniture as my room at the mansion and it didn’t take a genius to work out who had commissioned it.

A sunken seating area faced floor-to-ceiling windows on the far side of the room, revealing the dazzling city lights and darkness of Lake Michigan beyond. To my right was a sleek white counter that appeared to double as a bar and a black marble dining table sat off to the left.

“Your room.” Jesse gestured to the door beyond the table. “Your bags are already in there and you have your own bathroom.” He gestured to the various doors.

“Okay. Goodnight, Jess.” I yawned and waved as I disappeared behind the door he’d indicated.

I flicked on the light, and as promised, my duffle bag and all its contents had been neatly laid out on the bed. I snatched up my makeup remover and went into the bathroom to scrub the makeup from my face. I brushed my teeth and stripped down to my panties, throwing my camisole nightdress on and flicked out the lamp before crawling into bed.

I let out a sigh as I settled for the night.

I’d been asleep for less than an hour when noises tore me from sleep.

I pulled the covers away from my head and sat up in confusion, unsure of the sound.

A second ticked past and then a loud groan filtered through the walls.

Why now? I’m shit tired!

I buried my head under the duvet and smothered myself with a pillow. Unfortunately, it did little to dampen the sounds that were growing louder as the minutes ticked by, and I crushed the pillows closer until all I could hear was the thudding of my own heartbeat.

Eventually, I gave up trying to dampen the sounds, knowing there was little chance of falling asleep suffocated as I was under the heavy pillows.

Right that fucking does it!

I lunged out of bed and threw open my door in frustration, half expecting the sounds to be coming from the living room area, they were so graphic and loud. Thankfully they weren’t. The noises were coming from the room adjacent to mine and the only room Jesse hadn’t pointed to earlier…which meant it could only belong to one person.

Fantastic .

Anger fueled by alcohol had me marching over to the door and pounding violently against the wood.

“Tell your motherfucking donkey to shut the hell up, Marco! Some of us are trying to fucking sleep!” I yelled.

Probably shouldn’t have said that.

Immediately, I heard heavy footsteps heading toward where I stood, and I braced myself against the inevitable onslaught.

The door flung open forcefully, revealing a very angry… and very naked , Marco. My eyes involuntarily wandered over his body, and I tried unsuccessfully to force my gaze away from his sizeable length standing to attention through his boxers.

It was only then that I realized that he was literally covered in tattoos. Two full sleeves and a huge chest piece that stretched down one side of his rib cage camouflaged his skin in large swirls of rich black images. His long-sleeved shirts certainly hid more than perfectly chiseled abs, that was for sure.

Fucking hell.

I audibly gulped and arrogance glistened in his eyes.

“What did you say?”

I crossed my arms, trying to regain my composure. “I said, ‘tell your motherfucking donkey to shut the hell up, some of us are trying to sleep.’” I recanted, meeting his eyes in unquestionable challenge while keeping my voice sickly sweet.

“Hey bitch, fu—” a woman’s voice started to say behind him.

“Quiet.” Marco barked over his shoulder.

The woman’s mouth snapped shut and a smug smile lined my face as his attention focused squarely on me.

I suddenly felt hot and keenly aware of the lack of clothes we were both wearing.

Shit .

“Go back to your room.”

Surprisingly, it was exasperation that lilted his voice instead of the familiar anger I was expecting. Marco stepped back and slammed the door in my face not a second later, the lock clicking into place on the other side.

I stared angrily at the wood for a second longer than was entirely necessary before stomping away.

The moaning started up again the second my door closed, only this time louder than before. His groans were more audible than hers now and I found my cheeks smoldering at the sound. Something akin to excitement pooled in my belly with each of his loud grunts and I couldn’t help but imagine the actions that went along with those intoxicating sounds…

Lord help me.