Death Shatters Everything, Revenge Unleashed

"Here, beautiful," the bartender says, getting my attention. I open my purse to hand him some money, but he shakes his head. "He already paid for this," he says, pointing to the end of the bar.

A man is standing there with a flirtatious smile. He's black and covered in tattoos. I'm too far away to make out the color of his eyes, but he's hot. I raise my glass in gratitude and smile encouragingly back.

I came here looking for a connection. Someone to blow my mind and make me forget all the stress from work. I need to relieve the tension and fast. Luckily, he seems like the right man for the job.

But if he wants something, he can come up to me and say it. I stay at the bar longer than I should, sipping my drink and trying my best not to look at him.

He must be tired of waiting, because after a few minutes, I feel a presence behind me. I turn around and see a tattooed guy. Some girls might be a little intimidated or scared by his menacing build. But his look is just right for me.

I've always been drawn to tattooed bad boy types. I suppose a little danger is my business. Probably because I've lived my whole life in bubble wrap and been treated like fragile glass.

"Hey, beautiful," his voice is a low, deep purr. If I were a weaker girl, I'd melt at the sound.

"Hi," I say with a big smile. "Thanks for the drink."

"You're welcome," he says, his brown eyes shining. "What's your name?"

"Elena. And you?"

"Cal."

"Nice to meet you, Cal.”

He sits down on the chair next to me and continues asking me about myself for the next few minutes. I respect that. Most guys would immediately ask if I wanted to leave and find someplace private. But he's calm, patient.

“I came here with a couple of friends,” I tell him, pointing behind me.

I have no idea where my coworkers are. I think they split up, each finding their interests to pass the time. We usually come to places like this together, but by the end of the night, we’re separated. Still, at least he knows I’m not alone. In case he’s a serial killer.

“I hope these friends don’t mind me stealing you for the night?” Cal asks cheekily.

I raise an eyebrow.

“Oh? And how do you plan to do that? I'm too big to fit in your pockets.”

"I can think of another place where you'd be perfect." his voice is filled with sexual charm.

Well, that's all I can do to play hard to get. I put my hand on his shoulder, looking up at him.

"Come on, let's get out of here. You can steal me as much as you want."

I'm already thinking of places where I'd happily let this guy pin me, starting with the wall in his apartment. I never take men to my place. I like to live recklessly, but I take certain precautions.

Cal's patience is wearing thin as soon as we leave the club. I giggle as he pulls me toward the wall on the side of the club. One arm is behind my head, the other is down to my waist. My heart is pounding in my chest.

This is so stupid, the rational voice in my head repeats.

His gaze falls on the green cashmere dress hugging my torso, slides down my black stockinged legs before settling on my black heels. When he looks back at my green ones, he's seething with desire and heat.

I lift my chin, feeling the heat prickling my skin.

“Are you going to kiss me or not?”

He smirks.

“I knew I’d get lucky today.”

Then his lips are on mine. He’s not the best kisser, but he makes up for it with his hands. I moan softly as one of them slides behind me and squeezes my ass.

He squeezes me and moans as I dig my nails into his neck in response. I part my lips to give him access to my mouth, but before his tongue can slip in, my phone rings.

I let out a frustrated sigh. Cal pulls away, his eyes glazing over.

“I’m so sorry,” I tell him, digging through my purse for my phone.

It’s my brother. Fuck. I have to answer this.

Tony is a notoriously anxious person, and there’s a good chance that if I don’t pick up, he’ll be on the next plane to Boston. It’s not like he hasn’t done that before. I still remember the embarrassment of him showing up in the middle of a study session my freshman year, looking for me.

He wasn’t alone, because he never goes anywhere without his annoying friends. Which means three tall, hulking guys have come to my house to interrupt us because my phone’s battery is dead and I forgot to charge it.

I give Cal an apologetic smile before stepping away from the wall to answer the phone.

“Tony, I was busy with something,” I say, slightly annoyed.

He’s having the worst time.

“What?” he asks suspiciously.

“Working,” I lie. He doesn’t need to know what I was doing. “I have a long list of files I need to go through before work tomorrow.”

“It’s Friday,” he says dully. “What’s all the background noise if you’re working?”

“Tony, tell me why you called,” I say, demanding that he back off from this line of questioning.

He pauses for a few seconds. Almost immediately, I understand that something is wrong.

“You need to take a vacation from work. Go home.”

It's my turn to be suspicious.

"What? Why? And why are you talking so sadly?"

"Ricardo is dead."

Something cracked in my chest.

"What?" I ask in a whisper.

After my mother passed away, I had two fathers in my life. Ricardo was one of them. To most people, he was the ferocious and ruthless Don of the De Luca family. But to me, he was a man who was always patient and kind.