five

Jennifer’s POV

The dinner is soon over, and I am so glad I am able to get out of it before he can get anything out of me. And just as expected, the moment it hits midnight, Marco buzzes me non-stop. I pick up instantly, whispering silently.

"I'm on my way, okay? I am not going to bail out," I say to him, about to end the call, when his voice comes roaring back.

"You better not bail out, okay? Because he just called me and he is expecting you. He's already on his way."

With that, he ends the call and I tense up instantly. Does that mean Marcus is also just leaving the house?

I pack my essentials and dress discreetly in dark clothes, making sure to hide my lace mask in my bag, as that is the most important thing. Even if I forget anything else, I cannot forget that.

I decide to slip out through the side door, and just when I get close enough to the main gate, I hear footsteps and quickly rush to find a place to hide. Even though I am right there and there is no perfect place to go, I throw myself at the corner of the building and wait patiently to see who exactly is going out, even though one part of me knows it is none other than Marcus.

I poke my head out slowly and carefully, only to see Marcus already dressed in the same suit from dinner. He looks different now. He has slicked his hair back and does not look innocent the way he does at home. He looks around like he suspects someone is there and then gets into his car, speeding away into the night.

I then realize we are actually heading to the exact same destination, the club, and at the same time. Now I must definitely not bail out, or else I am just as doomed as I could possibly be.

I quickly book a cab, since it is already late and it will be much more difficult to find a taxi. A few minutes later, it honks two buildings away from our estate. I rush in quickly and give the address of the club to the driver. He looks at me weirdly, but still drives me straight to my destination.

I soon arrive at the club and rush in through the rear entrance, my heart hammering in my chest. The first person I bump into is Marco, who is pacing around in a panic. The moment he sees me, he drags me straight into the private dressing room.

"You almost gave me a heart attack. Marcus has been here for close to 30 minutes! Where have you been?" he says.

I shrug, "I'm here anyways. I didn't run. Besides, what does he even want with me?"

"I'm not supposed to be the one asking you that! I left you with him yesterday, and now he is obsessed with you and wants to take down my club. I won't let that happen, so you better do everything possible to satisfy him, because I am not going to give him my club," he says firmly and then quickly rushes into the dressing closet in search of something.

I pull out my clothes and slowly begin to put them on, one after the other. Just when I am about to put on my lace mask, he stops me and laughs.

"Really? You want to go back to see Marcus with a lace mask? He was curious about you yesterday. That's the reason why he didn't pull it off. He's definitely going to find out who you are today. Wear this," he says, giving me a different mask.

This one looks stiffer and won't be easily pulled off. I smile at him and then slowly put it on.

"This is to ensure your identity stays completely concealed, since that is what you want so badly. I don't care what happens, don't make me lose this club," he says, and then pushes me straight to the front of the VIP room.

I stand there, not knowing what to do, watching Marco blow me a kiss before scurrying away. I summon up the courage and slowly open the heavy curtain to the private VIP room.

The moment I step inside, Marcus is already waiting for me in the shadows, a glass of whiskey in his hand. He looks up at me with a slow, predatory smile.

"I told you I'd find you."

I look around. I am all alone with him, and I am going to actually be alone with him for 30 minutes. That is all it takes for me to realize I am trapped in a room with the man who hates me by day and is obsessed with me by night, because what else could possibly explain this?

Before I can become even more hesitant or step back in fright, realizing what is going on, the door slowly creaks and I can hear it lock from the outside.

"Do not worry, it will be opened at exactly 30 minutes from now. Come," he says, patting the seat beside him.

Marcus is gentle. He does not rush me the way I expect him to. Instead, he sits back, sipping his whiskey and, of course, savoring the fact that I came back. My heart hammers against my ribs while I slowly take each step closer to my doom. And just when I get close, he drags me to sit down.

"Why are you being so silent? The last time we met, you were literally saying everything. You're not being as professional as I expect you to be," he questions.

I know I have to say something, but then he is going to recognize my voice. I have no choice but to speak in a low, husky whisper so he won't recognize his stepsister's tone.

"Yeah, I'm fine. I'm just... everything that happened is still shocking me. And then seeing you here again, it's... I don't even know what to say to you."

"Oh, you don't have to say anything to me. But I just realize you're even more skittish tonight. Why are you so nervous anyway?"

His questions tense me up even more. Even as my stepbrother, he is just as curious as he is being whoever he is now, making my life even more difficult. I try to calm my nerves down and not make him question my nervousness again, but all he gives is a light chuckle. He seems so calm—not as aggressive as he used to be with me.

"Why do you want me here if we're just going to sit and stare at each other?" I question, and that brings an even louder laugh from him.

"Oh please, I... do you know how hard it was to get to you? And besides, where were you after the gunfight when they took you home? You left there. I tried to find you, but they said you moved."

I cling to my shorts in fright. He actually went to find me at my address! Does that mean he searched the entire neighborhood? I cannot be more glad that my mom kept every piece of information about her moving as discreet as possible.

"Yes, I moved out," I say, still hiding my real voice from him.

"Oh, do you know how much I paid to see you, masked dancer, just to get 30 minutes alone with you? That's just how much I wanted to see you again."

I do not have the right answer to his words, but I know whatever it is has to end now.

"Hey, are we here to talk about that? What do you want, exactly? Tell me what you want and I will give it to you instead of us talking about anything and everything, and unnecessary things too."

I try to be straightforward, but he stays silent and unexpectedly pulls me onto his lap again. The physical proximity becomes even more overwhelming, but nothing prepares me for the constant shift between his cold hatred towards me at the breakfast table and his fierce, possessive warmth towards me as the dancer, which completely throws me off balance.

Marcus's hand draws up to the mask's edge near my jawline, brushing my bare skin. He murmurs to me, "Your soap or perfume, it smells so familiar."

And instantly, it sends a shockwave of panic through me.