by Dee Garcia
Luca: Petal… You there?
Sighing, I contemplated whether or not to respond. If I didn’t, he’d more than likely continue to message, or worse yet, call until I answered. I couldn’t afford any more distractions and Luca was definitely a major distraction, seeing as I already knew the purpose behind his message…
“Can I ask you something?” Luca stirs beside me, his breaths still labored after our middle of the night rendezvous.
I’d been home for hours after helping Daddy sort some files at the compound but my brain just wouldn’t shut down. Gio and Alessio’s impending recoveries didn’t allow for much rest these days. So I rang Luca, who was more than happy to offer a little stress relief, despite my calling at two in the morning.
“Hmmm?” I roll onto my side, noting the clock behind him now reads closer to four. I’m gonna have to get going soon...
Sleepy blues settle on my face as the tips of his fingers ghost up my naked body. “Go out with me next weekend?”
His question stills me in place, though really, it shouldn’t. I’ve known for a while this day was fastly approaching.
“Luca, I—I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Why not?” He quizzes, dark brows cinching together.
Clutching his sheets to my chest, I sit up with a sigh, running a hand through my mussed up hair. “You know why,” I say evenly.
“Which is exactly why I think it’s a good idea. He doesn’t have to know we’ve been fucking around.”
“Are you insane?” My head snaps to where he lays. “I even mention we’re going on date and that’s the first thing he’ll assume. You know how Alessio is. Besides, we agreed no strings attached, remember?”
Luca sighs, more like huffs, and lifts up onto his hands. The sheets pool at his hips, leaving all that chiseled perfection on display. Sleeping with my brother’s best friend had been a mistake since day one, but fuck me does he make it hard to say no. I bite my lip and drag my gaze to his awaiting stare, noting the satisfied smirk on his face.
“We did, but did you really think nothing would come from our arrangement?”
Wounded ego in three…two…
“Yes,” I answer truthfully because nothing more was ever going to come from this. At least not for me.
The amusement and satisfaction coloring his expression melts away, anger briskly rising in its place. I can see how my honesty offends him, feel it rolling off him in waves.
“Why?” he asks incredulously. “We’d be so good together, Petal.”
“I doubt that.” I turn away from him, swinging my legs over the side of his bed.
“Why?” he presses.
“Because, Luca.”
“Because what?”
“Because I’ll never feel anything more for you than this. Never have, never will.”
I doubt I have to say it, but that night didn’t end well. Luca hadn’t taken to rejection too well, all but shoving me out the door of his place, which in turn only put me off more. It was unfortunate, and I hated feeling this way about it, but he’d done it to himself. Begrudgingly, I swiped my thumb along the screen and opened our message thread.
Me: Yep. What’s up?
His reply was instantaneous.
Luca: Are you busy tonight?
Me: Yes.
Luca: Working?
Me: Yes.
Three little dots danced around beneath my last response for quite some time, leading me to believe he was writing a bible. They disappeared several times, then reappeared, then disappeared again, bringing my frustration from a low simmer to a full boil. By the time he finally replied, I was ready to wring his neck like a drenched towel.
Luca: Are we ever going to talk about what happened the other night?
Me: What is there really to talk about? You asked me out, I said no.
Luca: Why though? We’ve been fucking around for two years, Eden. You really don’t feel anything for me?
Jesus Christ, not again.
Me: I’m not getting into this right now, Luca. I have a job to do and this isn’t a conversation to discuss via text. I’ll call you later this week and we can hash it out.
Luca: Doesn’t surprise me you’re using work to avoid the topic, but okay, cool. I won’t hold my breath waiting for your call either. You know where to find me when you finally decide to man up. Peace.
Man up? Was he serious? I growled in frustration and flung my phone into the passenger seat, not bothering with a reply to his pissy message. He wanted to be immature, then so be it. He could stew alone. I didn’t have time for it nor did I feel like I needed to explain myself. Case in point; we were fuck buddies, that’s it. Nothing less, nothing more, and he knew it damn well. Clearly, he’d developed some feelings along the way, but one, that wasn’t my problem, and two, it wasn’t fair he was lashing out because I didn’t feel the same. I was just as entitled to my feelings as he was to his.
Mid-mental-debate about how to handle the Luca debacle, I caught the slightest hint of movement from the corner of my eye. Glancing over to Mr. Royce’s home, I found him jogging down the walkway to his bike, looking infinitely more edible than he had before. He’d showered and thrown on a black long-sleeved shirt with a pair of dark wash jeans. His mussed-up hair was styled to perfection too, the dark strands glinting in the low lighting as though they were still wet. My palms itched with the need to feel it, to feel him, every inch of him. Clenching my thighs, I watched him straddle his bike, secure his helmet in place, and then with a simple flick of his wrist, that familiar rumble of the engine flared to life again.
What the hell? Where is he going?
I suppose it didn't matter, really. It's not like I had a plan set in stone. In fact, I still didn't have one at all because you know, I'd been so preoccupied mentally drooling over a certain someone. The only thing I could do now was follow him—again—and hope that his destination would allow me the locale to finish the impending job.
Although it didn't appear to be at first, the locale could not have been more perfect…
Xander led me to the city and into one of those prepaid lots with no attendants on site. That alone could've worked in my favor had it been empty, but there were barely any spaces left in which to park. Not surprising, given the lot sat on the corner of West 50th Street near all the nightlife hot spots. Keeping him within my line of sight, I reversed into one of the only spaces toward the back of the lot and killed the lights as he sauntered over to a group of men I immediately assumed to be his buddies. Handshakes, fist bumps, man hugs, and back slaps, they all seemed very well acquainted in one way or another. A problem for sure, because I needed Xander alone.
I sighed profoundly, my frustration quota having reached its limit for the night. Nothing seemed to be going right and for a second too long, I thought maybe tonight just wasn't my night. Should I head home and try again tomorrow?
No, just cut it short, she urged. She, my alter-ego, the vicious bitch who never let up. Of course, she'd want to proceed as originally planned, regardless of all the inconveniences the night presented.
The more I thought about it, though, the more I realized she was right. I’d come this far already. No point in drawing it out any longer than it had to be.
Exactly, now lay down the charm. Enrapture him. Drive him crazy. And then…
My brow quirked in a sleek, impressed arch, the prospect of her suggestion more than just intriguing.
Confused? Let me clue you in.
Seduction.
It wasn't often I did it, but the few times I'd allowed it to be so, the execution was flawless. Took the right kinda mark to see it through. They had to fit my standards and I had to feel some sort of connection with them, no matter how minimal. Old geezers were out of the question. Age might’ve been a mere number to some people, but to me, I couldn't go through with it. Wrinkly skin and saggy cocks were not my thing.
I hadn’t always used seduction as one of my tactics, and as I said, it was rare I did so, e
ven now, but it was one of the simplest ways to get the job done.
Why?
Because a sated man was easy to subdue.
Did my father know of my little trick? Absolutely not, he’d blow a gasket. But my brothers had found out, thanks to my little cleanup crew, and I think it went without saying they didn’t approve. My life and how I handled my career wasn't for them to approve or disapprove of, though, because unlike them, the Scarsi cardinal rule was always at the forefront of my mind, guiding me in the direction that best suited each mark.
Whatever it takes. That's how I'd been trained. From forcing a bullet down their throat to the lucky few who experienced a happy ending, I always ended them.
Quickly.
Silently.
Effectively.
And effectiveness in every avenue of the assault was key. We were in public and not just any public, a crowded public. Seducing Mr. Royce and luring him somewhere private was my only option at this point. Wouldn't be difficult, really. Bros before hoes, they preached, but pussy ran the world.
Slipping out of my car with only my phone, ID, and credit card tucked into my bra, I paced myself behind them and other small groups of people until they sidled into the long line outside of the recently established nightclub, Lucid.
A club, really? I initially thought but then I realized it'd be dark, loud, spacious, which meant many a place where I could pull him away from his pals.
Not wanting to stand directly behind them, I pulled out my phone and stood off to the side of the line, pretending to be calling my own group of non-existent girlfriends who were late for our night out on the town. I was invisible to the world, a young woman ready to drink and dance the night away. Just like them.
When at least ten people had brushed past me, I ended my Oscar award-winning performance and settled into the line, keeping a close eye on my mark, who still had no idea he wouldn't live after his world collided with me.
For a fairly new club that was Manhattan’s current hype, the line moved quickly. One after the other, throngs of people were allowed entrance with a quick scan of their ID’s. I craned my head around the bulky fucker standing in front of me and noticed Xander and his friends were next. I'd lose him temporarily but I wasn't worried, regardless of how massive Lucid was. I could spot my marks anywhere, especially him.
Excitement coursed through me as enticing visions of how the evening could go grayed out the world around me. Dazed, my body advanced through the line on autopilot and when it was finally my turn, I was balls deep in my own personal porno.
“Next!” the bouncer barked, annoyed, disintegrating the image of Xander bound at my mercy.
My eyes shot up to his brute face and he held out his palm, the universal sign for let me see your ID.
Quickly studying my photo and birthdate, he pulled a neon pink bracelet from his pocket and secured it around my wrist before stepping aside to let me in. I offered him a small smile and tucked my card back into my bra as I made my way inside the darkened club. With a name like Lucid, the interior décor was spot on. The white walls glittered, as did the flooring throughout, and almost all the furniture, minus the transparent bar stools, were white as well. There were two bars, one on the lower level and one upstairs specifically for those who wished to pay the outrageous VIP price. Both were massive and at a first glance, you’d think they were made of the finest glass. The only pop of color was behind the shelves that housed all the alcohol, fading from one color of the rainbow to the next every thirty seconds or so.
Weaving in and out through different groups of people, I strutted to the crystallized bar with a natural sway to my hips and slithered into one of the empty stools, signaling the bartender on the other side with a crook of my polished finger. He nodded in understanding and mouthed “One minute,” to which I responded with a playful wink, promptly dragging my gaze along those seated at the bar. If I was going to seduce Mr. Royce to his death, I was going to need a drink.
And then… I saw him, dark brown eyes trained intently on my form from not so far away. Where his buddies were, I wasn't sure, but I was going to have to make my move much sooner than anticipated. He was alone, and I had to take advantage of the moment. Peeking at him through blackened lashes, I flashed him a come-hither smile and turned away as a heated blush creeped up my neck. Forced, it was not. It was a one-hundred percent, pure unadulterated lustful blush that, as predicted, spurred him into action.
Let the games begin.
“You really shouldn’t smile at strangers like that,” I said, sliding onto the empty bar stool beside the blonde goddess. “They might misinterpret your intentions.”
So much for just grabbing a drink.
I was supposed to have paid for my beer and headed upstairs to VIP where Jackson and the boys were congregating, but at the moment, they could not have been more irrelevant. She'd captivated me from the moment she’d approached the bar and when her ice-blue eyes locked with mine from across the way, I found myself unable or unwilling to look away. It was the sexy smile she flashed me, though, that drew me toward her without any hesitation at all.
“Who said I was smiling at you?” A cheeky smirk curled her crimson lips.
“The flush that rose in your cheeks when I started your way.”
And there it was again, coloring her fair skin so decadently I could practically feel its warmth beneath my palms. I eyed her slowly, trailing the lines of her figure from the black heels on her feet, over the little slate dress that fit her like a glove, giving me a mouthwatering view of her legs, and up to those clear pools that held me hostage once more.
“Besides, I don’t think someone like you has Daddy issues,” I added, tipping my head to the group of older men who'd been huddled beside me on the other side of the bar.
“Fair observation, Mr…”
“Royce. Xander Royce.”
“Well, Mr. Royce”—she laid her chin on her palm—“as you said, I don't suffer from Daddy issues, but I am curious as to what ‘someone like you’ means.”
I took a swig of my beer to mask my grin. “A gorgeous and confident woman like yourself who has the ability to choose any man she wants, of course.”
“Ah, so you’re one of those.” She chuckled. “Flattery will get you nowhere, sir.”
“No flattery here. Just stating the obvious truth. I’m sure every man in here would agree with me, too.”
“Care to test that theory?”
“By all means, Miss…”
“Ravenna,” she quipped mockingly, baby blues twinkling mischievously. “Eden Ravenna.”
Of course her name would be something exotic and seductive.
“Well, Miss Ravenna, please proceed. I won’t utter a word.”
The bartender chose that exact moment to appear on our side of the bar with a rag in hand. Seeing the bottle already cradled in my grasp, he swung his gaze to Eden and smiled.
“What can I get for ya?”
“Gin and tonic, please, but before you go, Martin,” she said, poking at his name tag, “care to answer a quick question for me?”
Martin’s stare flickered curiously between Eden and I. “Uh, sure.”
“Would you say I'm a gorgeous and confident woman who…how was it you worded that, Xander?” she questioned, turning her head toward me.
“Who has the ability to choose any man she wants,” I said, hiding my amused smile behind the bottle when the bartender’s eyes slightly bugged out.
Eden watched him intently, without blinking, unmoving, awaiting his answer as though it were the cure for cancer or a way to end child hunger. The poor guy looked so baffled, I had to subdue the urge to choke out a laugh.
“Yeah, um, I guess you are,” he finally agreed, wiping down the already pristine area before him.
“Oh, no. It’s a yes or no—” she started to say, but I jumped in to spare him the embarrassment.
“Thanks for playing along, bro. Just bring the lady her drink.”
Once Martin
was out of earshot, I turned to Eden and shook my head, thoroughly beguiled with the woman sitting beside me. “You’re evil.”
“True, but, you have to admit his reaction was priceless.”
“It was, and he did prove my theory right, so what do I get for that?”
She shrugged and snatched my beer, taking a long swig. “How about you name your price and I'll see if it's doable?”
Sly little fox.
Tapping my fingertips on the bar top, I used the unprecedented moment of negotiation to really take her in. The club was dark, yes, but I could still see her. Angelic yet sexy, Eden was, without a doubt, the most beautiful woman I’d ever laid eyes on. I hadn’t come here with the intention to meet someone new, but five minutes with her and that witty little mouth of hers, and all I wanted was five more.
“Stay and have a few drinks with me,” I said, after a beat.
“I could do a few drinks”—she took another sip—“but you owe me a dance.”
“Deal, but I want my beer back first,” I countered, snatching the Corona from her hand.
“Fair enough. I will say, my interest in piqued, though…”
My brow quirked. “About?”
“About why such a handsome man like you is alone in a place like this.”
“I could ask you the same.”
Martin reappeared then, glass tumbler in hand. Eden flashed me a side smirk and pulled a few bills from her dress, sliding them to the bartender with a wink in tow. Stirring her drink straightaway, she lifted the glass to her lips and took a long sip.
“I'm not alone. Friends are overly drunk and I don't wanna play DD, so I left. They probably think I'm halfway home by now.”
“Some friend you are,” I joked.
“I know”—she hooked a shoulder—“but I'm always the DD. Not in the mood to babysit tonight.”
Ain’t that the truth...
“I can relate. I'm in the same boat.”