LOGINHis phone had been buzzing nonstop for the last ten minutes. Calls. Messages. More calls. The sound threaded through the penthouse like a mosquito that refused to die.As he walked into the room, another ping lit up from the wooden shelf tucked against the wall, the one designed like a miniature library. Dark oak, floating panels, shelves crowded with hardcovers only one person in the house ever bothered opening.The screen flashed again.Dominic slid one arm into his jacket before grabbing the phone. His thumb hovered briefly over the notifications until one message caught his eye.~‘Her travel preparations with him are set for Sicily. Jsyk Oriana will be there.’He stared at the words briefly. Then deleted the message.By the time his other arm slid fully into the jacket sleeve, the sound behind him pulled his attention ninety degrees.Steam spilled into the room.Her hair had darkened from the shower, damp strands clinging to her shoulders and collarbones. A towel sat quite low ag
Dominic’s huff traveled to Marc’s ears.Before she could bend her knees, Marc caught her hands and pulled her up. “Find the bathroom before I kick you out.”Abby scoffed, rolling her eyes.Marc had already moved past her before she staggered away, finding the bathroom.The second girl was worse. Barely conscious as her head lollied. Marc’s jaw grounded as he crouched in front of her, grabbing her discarded dress from the floor.“At least this one ends with them walking out,” he muttered under his breath as he helped pull it over her shoulders.“Cavolo,” (Heck,) Dominic dragged. “Che due palle!” (What a pain in the ass!) “You're just a killjoy.”Marc shot him a look.Dominic smirked.The second girl had opened her eyes now.He guided her up more carefully, steadying her when she stumbled. “Door’s that way,” he jerked his head as he walked her all the way to the door, opening it himself.“You can't stay here,” Marcello told her as he threw some money into her purse. “Shaw’s outside. H
Her fingers tangled lazily in the brunette’s hair before slowing near her mouth. She brushed her thumb over the smeared red lipstick there, pupils widening at the sight of it.A crooked grin spread across her face.The alcohol and whatever else they’d taken earlier dragged heavily at their movements. Her eyes kept fluttering between giggles, lashes resting briefly against her cheeks before lifting again.Then their mouths collided again, careless and messy, laughter breaking between kisses.Dominic stood beside them, watching the scene unfold through a haze of smoke.The brunette reached for him first. Her hand slid around the back of his neck, pulling him forward. Their perfume mixed in the air. The brunette’s lips barely left his while the other girl pressed closer against his side, her mouth trailing heated kisses along the lines of his nipples.“Name,” Dominic muttered against the brunette’s mouth.“Abby.” She smiled lazily against his lips.The other girl laughed softly from be
Her eyes.They were the exact shade of blue. But somewhat faded, as if they had been worn down over time and left to function anyway. Her pupils blown wider than the light justified, rimmed faintly red at the corners.They didn’t settle anywhere for long, skimming past me, over me, around me – never quite landing unless she forced them to.I read her the same way anyone would fucking read their holy books. Didn’t matter how it ended. Only that I could. And right now, I could see through her psychotic giggling. They were perhaps coping mechanisms.She leaned into me and the scent of caramel tangled in ‘coke’ wafted into my nostrils. My jaw clenched.I’d smelt that before. Too many times.It smoothed everything out, the fear, thought, resistance.I sat still as my gaze dragged over. Her fingers were magical as they trace tingling trails from the back, into my jacket and down my chest. She rounded me, and went on all fours, flashing her folds, which were red, swollen and dripping. Imm
My gaze sharpened. “Domenico,” I returned evenly. “Dominic, if we’re being formal.” His tongue wet his lower lip while he tapped two fingers against the table. “Something tells me you didn’t walk in blind. Not reckless like the usual rich boys who manage their way in here. You never looked uncertain. That’s not beginner’s luck. That’s pattern recognition.” He poured himself a drink slowly, unhurried. Then gestured toward the glass in front of me. “But… I don’t like patterns I didn’t authorize in my house,” he added, quieter now. I leaned back, studying him the way he had studied me earlier. “Your operation is well-contained,” I murmured. “I must say, I envy how efficient and ‘clean’ they are. That kind only works when everyone involved knows exactly what not to ask or maybe they don't even know at all.” His face suddenly went morbid. Acting all surprised as if his businesses wasn't the face of Miami, and the city itself didn’t already run through his hands. But I let it pass wi
“Hmm,” Sergei mused, his gaze dragging over the card before flicking up to me again. “Kids with rich parents.”The laughter that had started to build again didn’t last. It died a fraction because Yuri Malenkov, the man at the head of the table, flexed his wrist in the air.His eyes dropped to the card, narrowing as if it had personally offended him. His fingers balled against the table, the faintest pause in a man who otherwise wasted nothing.And when he looked up again, he wasn’t looking at the others but at me.A woman stepped into my periphery, completely buck-naked, except for the thin straps of her shoes, tight nipples and a face heavy with makeup.Her expression was blank in the way only trained compliance could achieve, carrying a tray stacked high with chips, obscene in volume.She lowered it in front of me and traced her fingers across my shoulder blades which caused the hairs at the back of my neck to rise involuntarily. Then she stepped back without a word.“I don’t see an
“But,” I paused my lips, drawing away, “sometimes life doesn’t ask what you want. It just… redirects you. And no amount of wanting makes the path straighten.”Confusion crept up his face. “Are you saying –”“I’m saying I didn’t come here to hurt you,” I interrupted. My chest tightened suddenly. It
The label wasn’t written on the front like the others, but along the side. I stared at the envelope, hoping stupidly that I had read it wrong. My hand hovered, then closed around the envelope, lifting it slowly from the drawer.This wasn’t recent. The paper was worn, handled more than once. Whateve
This was my father’s house and I knew where the stones didn't fit, where hedges concealed narrow paths the guards never bothered with. I knew the blind spots created by an old apple tree and a wooden door.I moved when the perimeter guard turned the corner, counting his steps the way I had as a chi
I turned away first not because I was ashamed, though maybe there was some of that. I dragged in a breath and fixed my attention on the bed, on the pale light leaking through the curtains, on anything that wasn’t the weight of his presence behind me.I acted as though nothing had happened and I had