Bound To The Devil

(Few Months Earlier)

TIFFANY WEST

I chose a bar within the heart of New York's most expensive hotel. Royale Haven. Downing down the burning liquor. I didn't even know what I was drinking, I'd told the barman to surprise me when he'd asked. And he'd surprised me. But the soothing burn of the alcohol was barely enough to keep me out of my frenzy. It was barely enough to keep his voice from echoing in my ears and it got worse as I stared at the seven words that blurred my vision from his text message. “Your mum's been calling you. We need to talk. This is important,” Seven words that unraveled me and left a series of violent shivers down my spine.

It had been five years. Five fucking years since I'd last seen the pedophile of a shit bag stepfather, Francis Strauss, and my mother, Seline West.

I thought I was okay. I thought I'd made peace with the past and finally moved past it. Past him. Past those nights he sneaked into my room and covered my screams with his hand on my lips. But all the therapy sessions with Dr Rosiewent down the drain with one call from the bastard who ruined me.

“You okay?” 

My head snapped to the barman. He was watching me with raised brows. I didn't realize I had been shaking so much like I'd been drenched by the cold rain.

“Just perfect. Fix me one more round,” I paused on a thought. “Make it two,” I should already be drunk from the alcohol I had with Elena and her new friend, Savio a few hours ago at Sapphire's club. But I wasn't. The buzz of the alcohol had lost its effects the second Francis called. I hadn't known it was him, otherwise I wouldn't have answered.

Five years was enough to pretend they didn't exist. That I hadn't just lost my everloving father in that accident but mum too. To pretend Francis never came into our lives. To pretend they weren't playing the picture-perfect family in Las Vegas while I lived like an outcast.

Whore. Worthless. Disgrace.

Tears burned my vision but I was unwilling to let it fall even as the words from my mother drilled deeper into my chest, scarring me. I gulped down my drink. The alcohol was reluctant to relieve me from the pain.

"Vodka,"

I paused. Froze. The voice was right above my shoulder. Its deep timbre sent a ghost of shivers through me. The voice was familiar but tonight it dripped with something cold. Something dark. And it had my heart racing.

Involuntary, a shaky breath fled from my lungs. And a cold shiver rocked its way down my spine again as I heard him before I saw him.

I returned the empty glass to the table, and just at the same time I heard the harsh scrape of the chair beside me against the marble floors and the hairs at the back of my neck stood upright as the owner of that voice settled in it.

I didn't look. I was tempted to, but I didn't. What was he doing here?

I raised my glass to the barman, as he set a glass of vodka on the table for him, while I requested a refill. As soon as I had whatever he was serving me in my glass, I focused on it— tried to, while sipping it, a little slower than earlier.

But who was I kidding? My entire focus was on the seat next to mine. I only had to tilt my head a little, and my eyes fell on the familiar large hand wrapping the rim of the glass. They were large. Tight. And rough.

“It's a surprise finding you here,” The deep timbre of the voice touched my bones. And I was forced to shift my eyes to him. Lorenzo Russo. The sight of him was a visceral punch just like earlier today when Elena and I had met him to discuss her sisters’ disappearance from two years ago. He was a private investigator. Expensive as fuck. But the very best in his field.

My eyes moved up from the relaxed carriage of his arms at his sides —leaned on the table— the set of his straight shoulders. He wasn't wearing the clothes from earlier this evening, and instead an Italian-tailored suit, hiding what seemed like a lethal body to me. 

“...All alone and at this hour,” He finished his sentence. His gaze flicked side and caught mine, heavy and emotionless as if he was looking straight through me.

Everything about him was different from when we had met earlier today. Almost as if he was a different man now.

Our exchange lasted only for a second, but stretched into slow motion, stealing a breath of air from my lungs, and trapping me senseless in his stare. It was ice blue. Heartless. Invasive. I had seen those earlier today. Maybe it was exactly what turned me on the second I saw him. But tonight there was something else licking to the surface.

He was all shades of dangerous and deadly. He oozed confidence and something dark. The aura of a brutal man filled with darkness. It should be enough to have me running for my geeks but I didn't.

I glanced at the clock hanging on the wall and it was way past midnight.

“What can I say, I'm a girl that loves to have fun?” I brought my gaze back to my drink.

He ran his thumb around his watch as he fixed me with a stare. “Well, are you?” 

The bite of his question touched my back as our stare stretched into a slow motion, stealing a breath of air from my lungs. “The very best,” But that was a lie. I still felt like shit and despite the buzz in the air, the alcohol still hasn't done any good.

My thoughts were instantly cut off by the ringing of my phone. As I glanced at it, the name Seline West flashed on it.

I declined it, bringing my gaze back to him while I fought every emotion from my eyes. Lorenzo held mine. They say they can always tell by the eyes. His were like ocean beneath eyes where nothing but the darkest creature could thrive while mine were a wide open plain and for a second, it felt like he could see everything. Every emotion. Every bruise. Every scar.

I averted my eyes before I drowned in his.

“Trouble in paradise?” His dark hair was trimmed short on the sides, dealt with no doubt by an expert hand. The broadest shoulders in a black suit molded against his toned body, almost like a second, perfect skin.

His face was symmetrical and flawlessly proportioned. He had the face and type of body women groaned over, and would beg for a taste, and his cold expression could never deter his heavenly features. Not ever.

I didn't look at him. “You got me. My boyfriend won't just leave me alone. Caught him doing the deed with some Starbucks waitress who served us coffee this morning,” I took a sip from my wine. “And I'm here thinking of the perfect way to get back at him. I have something in mind and I know you and I would enjoy it,” When my gaze came back on him I found him still staring at me. “What do say we take this conversation somewhere else, handsome,” I crossed a leg over the other, baring a generous amount of thigh. He ignored me. “No?”

My phone rang again. Seline West. With a raging sigh, I declined it.

“Well, your loss. Guess I'll look for someone more willing,” I looked over to the barman. “What time do you get off?”

“If you're in desperate need to whore yourself out, then this is the wrong place?” 

My skin flared. I wasn't sure if it was from the anger from his rejection or the desperation that had been evident in my voice.

“Gosh, what a real shame. I didn't think with such a beautiful face you'd be this intense. Tell me handsome, when was the last time you got laid,”

He still didn't reply. Didn't even look my way. “Trust me you should do it more often. It makes you less moody,” He still didn't reply. I was about to speak when my phone flashed with a text. It wasn't from mum, but Francis.

Instant rage burned through me as I read through it, I picked up my drink and finished it, sliding down the stool. Lorenzo's gaze shifted to me as I closed the small distance between us. His eyes narrowed and without thinking, I leaned in, smashing my lips against his. And my body stilled instantly.