by Nicole Fox
“Be careful,” Christy whispered to me as I turned to her.
“You too,” I warned. She had better not get into any trouble while I was distracted.
Christy nodded and went to stand safely a little way away, and I finally turned to the young prospect before me.
He was built much the same as I was, though a little leaner and a little taller. We started circling each other, eyes analyzing the other’s every movement. I didn’t know much about him, but if he was a prospect, then he would be eager to prove himself. I could use that to my advantage, wait for him to strike, and use his sloppy moves against him.
As I expected, the prospect only waited another moment before throwing his first punch—a light one that I dodged easily. It wasn’t intended to hit me, but just to test the waters.
He threw another jab, then another, both of which I dodged easily. The man was getting a little worked up, glancing to the other guys and back to me, probably scared he wouldn’t be able to impress them. I almost felt for the guy, even though it had nothing to do with me.
I needed to strike soon, and I took my opportunity with his next jab, dodging it and then throwing a punch of my own. It connected with his shoulder, and I was quick to pull back. The prospect seemed to physically steel himself and then charged forward, throwing a multitude of quick hits in my direction, only two of which I blocked before I was hit in the stomach and chest. He continued his assault, until I flung a leg out and caught him right in the kneecap.
The man stumbled back only slightly before regaining his balance. While he was distracted, I landed a jab to his side and another to his stomach. Without warning, his fist sailed through the air and caught me right in the face. I felt the blood begin to pour down my nose, and I cursed internally at not having seen that coming. Christy would probably be going out of her mind right about now.
The prospect used my distraction to land another blow and, then, almost another one, but I successfully blocked it, feinted left, and then landed a solid punch to the right side of his jaw.
A sickening crack sounded out as he stumbled back, even as his eyes remained on me. He came back at me with a vengeance, but was now sloppier with his moves. I easily dodged most of them, but a few managed to land on me. I found an opening in his assault and went for it, landing two hits on his stomach. As I feinted a hit for his side, which he went to block, my other hand struck and uppercut to the jaw that knocked him back a few feet.
He wobbled uncertainly, and I took the moment to land one more firm punch, watching as he sank to his knees and fell backward onto the concrete.
I turned to Christy and gave her a look of reassurance, as she stood there relieved, a hand covering her mouth as she watched on.
The men on the left were talking amongst themselves, finally turning to me a moment later.
“Well done, Mr. DeLeon. You may go up to see him now.”
I turned and held a hand out to Christy, waiting until she was near, before pulling her tight against me. We moved to follow the man, but he stopped and held up a hand.
“No, no,” he said, with an unapologetic look on his face. “Only one can meet with him. The other stays here.”
Christy and I exchanged a look, and I knew we were thinking the same thing. It was a lose-lose situation, but I supposed it couldn’t be helped. I’d prefer her up there with Romano, than down here with these men, especially since Romano seemed to favor her.
“You go,” I said to her.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. Good luck.”
Christy nodded firmly and then followed after the man, disappearing into the building.
Chapter Seventeen
Christy
I was terrified. Leaving King behind in the courtyard below felt like an idea that was destined to go wrong, and I knew that it was. The men must have known that splitting us up would make us nervous, or at least make me nervous, and for that I commended them. If their goal was to rattle me, then they had succeeded.
Meeting Romano in the state that I was would end up being a disaster. I just knew it. I had been counting on King standing by my side, supporting me, while we tried to strike up a deal with Romano. What was I going to do on my own?
My mind wandered to King, who would be waiting downstairs for my arrival. I had to get this right. I couldn’t go back down empty-handed—not after what I’d just made King go through. It didn’t matter that I hadn’t known there would be a test. I still felt wholly responsible for the fight downstairs, and that guilt wouldn’t be going anywhere anytime soon.
King and I should have known nothing would be easy when we’d decided to come here. It was the Mafia, so of course they would have a test and only let one of us go up. The brawl had been intense, even if I was only watching. King had been calm and restrained the entire time, analyzing the prospect’s movements and waiting for a time to attack. I’d never seen him so calculating and controlled. For a moment, I’d been worried that he’d lose, when his bloody nose had snapped his concentration, and he seemed to freeze for a moment. Thankfully, he’d come out on top, though I had no idea what was going on there now. For all I knew, they were ganging up on him, and I would go down to find him in an unconscious state, like I had that one time in the club.
If only King were with me, then I would feel infinitely safer, and I would know what to do when I met Romano. As it was, I was scared out of my mind and didn’t have a clue what to say to him. Would I just blurt out my theories, even though I didn’t have any substantial proof? King had been right. I should’ve thought this through more.
The trip up the elevator seemed to last a lifetime, as the man and I rose to the highest floor. He was entirely silent, though I hadn’t expected him to say anything. I felt nervous laughter bubble up in my throat, and it was a substantial effort to force it down. I was glad that I hadn’t started speaking out of nervousness, like I often did. I had a feeling that the man wouldn’t have taken to kindly to it
Finally, a ding sounded out, and the doors slid apart.
“You may enter,” the man beside me gestured with a hand. I stepped out of the lift, onto the top floor, and looked around curiously. Opening my mouth to ask the man where to go, I realized that he hadn’t stepped out of the lift. I turned to see the doors slide shut behind me and realized in the resounding silence that I was on my own.
To calm my nerves, I took in the top floor of Romano’s building. The place was beautiful; it had windows on all sides, with a great view of the city around us, a plush sofa on one end of the room, and an office at the other.
I could see a light on inside the office, a dim one that cast an eerie glow through the glass doors. The entire place was extravagant, but somehow exactly what I had expected.
Taking a few hesitant steps, I reached the office door and rapped three times on the glass.
“Enter,” a voice called.
It was now or never. Steeling my nerves and suppressing any fear, I strode confidently through the doors.
The sight that awaited me caused a loud gasp to leave my mouth. In front of me, pouring wine into two glasses was Andres Romano. That’s not what shocked me, though. I was shocked because I knew who he was. I’d spent time with him. I’d danced for him. He was my favorite client, for crying out loud. How could he be the one I was looking for?
King had been right all along. He’d probably realized it as soon as we arrived here, too, but I’d been entirely distracted and didn’t stop to think for a moment about who Romano might be. This changed everything.
“Would you like a drink, Christy?”
He held out the wine glass to me, and I hesitantly accepted it. “Thanks.”
There was a moment of silence as he stared me down, and I adjusted to the shock of seeing him.
“Do you want to sit?” He gestured to the empty leather seat on the other side of his desk, and I complied again, sitting down hesitantly and placing my glass down.
“I’ve never heard you say so much,” I
said then, immediately cursing myself internally for my stupidity.
To my relief, he let out a loud laugh. “Oh, Christy, there are plenty of things you haven’t seen or heard me do.”
I smiled slightly and raised my glass to my mouth again.
“I hear that you are here after Jarren Rossi. Is that correct?”
“Yes, it is.” I looked up at him with another smile. There was really only one way that I knew to be around him and that was my club persona. If that was what it was going to take, then so be it.
Standing up again, I sat down on the edge of his desk, crossing my legs slowly and deliberately, and arching my back as I turned to look at him again.
“He’s stolen my money and set up a robbery at his own club, one that King interrupted.”
“Has he now?”
Romano leaned back in his chair, and I took that as my cue to ramp up my efforts. Sliding off my side of the desk, I sauntered over to his side, squeezing between his chair and the desk, so that my ass was planted at the very edge. I leaned forward a fraction, so my breasts were mostly visible to him and bit my lip innocently.
“He has. And I really needed someone to help me—to believe me. I asked around, and everyone pointed me to you. So, can you help me?” I batted my eye lashes at him, and slid a hand absently over the tops of my thighs, ‘accidentally’ drawing my skirt up a little indecently. I had no idea what I was asking him, or what I expected him to do. If King was here, then maybe he would’ve had a plan, but I was just winging it and resorting to the only skills I had.
“What proof do you have?”
I almost frowned at the tone of his voice. It sounded… uninterested?
“Well, I don’t really have anything concrete,” I began.
“I can’t help you until you do,” he said flatly, rolling his chair back, so that I slipped forward off the desk.
On the inside, I began to panic. This wasn’t working how I wanted it to at all. Maybe I needed to step up my game a little.
“Andres,” I said, my voice soft and seductive. I reached over and placed a hand on his knee, trailing it up slightly. “Please help me, Andres. You’re the only option I have.”
Despite me turning on the seduction to full blast, Romano seemed completely disinterested in me. He rolled back his chair again, so that my hand fell off of his knee, and gave me an impassive look.
“Christy, we’re not at the club. This is my business here, and I don’t work without proof.”
Fuck. What the hell was I meant to do now? We’d come all this way, gone through what we did downstairs, and he wouldn’t even help us out? How could he be so unaffected by my charms? I thought he would be wrapped around my finger, but, so far, all I’d managed to succeed in was making a fool of myself.
“But how do I do that?” I asked.
“You’re a resourceful girl, Christy. I’m sure you’ll think of something. Come back when you’ve got something of use to me.”
He looked down back at the papers on his desk, and I recognized my dismissal.
That was it?
“All right. King and I will be back soon,” I said, then turned to make my exit.
“Oh, Christy?” he called out, stopping me in my tracks and causing me to spin to face him. “I’m afraid Mr. DeLeon won’t be leaving just yet.”
“What do you mean?” I asked anxiously.
“Send him up when you get down, will you? Him and I need to have a bit of a talk.”
My heart went into overdrive as I left his office and went back into the lift. What did Romano want with King? Was he planning on doing anything to him? Maybe he wanted to teach him a lesson about the prospect. Maybe he was going to threaten him, or try and recruit him, or make him do something.
The possibilities were endless, and I had no trouble overreacting and thinking of every possible scenario as I descended in the lift.
It’s okay, I told myself, in an attempt to calm myself down. King knew what he was doing. He could handle a little talk with Romano, if that was all that was going to happen. He’d probably get more out of it than I did during my chat, not that that would be hard to do.
I made my way back to the courtyard and saw the men standing exactly how they were before. King rushed over as soon as he spotted me.
“Let’s get out of here,” he said.
“Romano wants to see you,” I blurted out.
I saw a multitude of thoughts flash over his face before he settled on calm and accepting.
“All right. It’ll be okay. These men won’t hurt you. Just stay here, and I’ll be back as soon as I can. Okay?”
I nodded apprehensively, and King gave me a reassuring smile, though I knew it was just a front.
“I’ll be back before you know it,” he said again, turning around and making his way quickly inside the building.
It didn’t really matter what he said to comfort me. I wouldn’t calm down until he returned. Turning slightly to eye the men behind me, I felt a sliver of fear run down my spine. I hoped to God that he’d be back soon.
Chapter Eighteen
King
When Christy had left me alone with the mafia men, I was surprised that they didn’t try to say or do anything. In fact, it had felt like a standoff, me on one side of the courtyard, and them on the other. We stared each other down, but did not go near each other. The entire vibe of the place was extremely intense and uncomfortable, and I wanted nothing more than to leave. I hoped to God that Christy would come back soon, so we could get the hell out of there.
Who knew what Romano would be up to when she met with him? I didn’t know his motivation, or what he might ask from her. For all I knew, she would never come down.
I should’ve argued, or fought, when they said only one of us could go up. What had I been thinking, letting Christy go up alone? I should’ve stayed with her and protected her. If they still refused to let me go up, then we should’ve just left. Now that we were here, I sincerely doubted that anything good that could come of our visit. Would Romano really be able to help us? Or was this just a thorough waste of our time? I wouldn’t know until Christy came back down, but that didn’t seem likely to happen any time soon.
The moments passed sluggishly, and I was glad there wasn’t a clock around, for I was sure to have gone crazy watching it and waiting for Christy’s return. I was getting uncharacteristically impatient, when Christy finally appeared, walking out with worried eyes and slumped shoulders. I didn’t need to be a genius to realize that something was definitely wrong. Maybe he didn’t want to help. If that were the case, then I’d be almost relieved.
When Christy announced that Romano wanted to see me, I had mixed emotions. I wouldn’t have minded getting out of there that very moment, but the opportunity to meet up with Romano was one that I couldn’t refuse. How could I say no, when we’d come all the way here to try and get his help? Trying to assure Christy that I would be back soon, though there would be no way to know for sure, it was my turn to make my way into the depths of the Mafia building, hoping I came back out unscathed. Even more, I hoped that Christy would be okay until I returned. The men had kept their distance from me, and I could only hope they did the same to her.
The same man that had escorted Christy away, took me up in the lift to Romano’s floor. Of course, it was the top floor, a large open area that seemed very fitting. I didn’t even hesitate to make my way over to the lit office, knowing that I couldn’t waste any time while Christy was alone downstairs.
“Romano,” I said upon my arrival, eyeing him carefully, as if he was about to bite. I couldn’t be too careful around him.
“King,” he returned. “Take a seat.” I hesitated but decided to accept, not wanting to start off on the wrong foot. I sat there, waiting. He was the one who wanted to speak to me, so I would sit there waiting until he did so. Thankfully, he seemed to read my mind and wasted no time in opening his mouth.
“I suppose you’re wondering why I asked to meet with you, yes?”
I nodded mutely, and he continued. “I’m very interested in men like you, King. Men with your special set of skills.” Romano was leaning forward in his chair, elbows on his desk and hands clasped together. I wasn’t sure where he was headed, but I felt decidedly uncomfortable with the whole situation.
“Oh, yeah?” I almost scoffed. “And what skills are they? I’m just a bouncer.” I wasn’t going to come forth and spill my life story on a platter for him. Until he said something concrete, I was content to deny anything he knew of my past.
“You and I both know you are much more than a bouncer, King.”
I took care not to display my apprehension on the outside, though, internally, I had stiffened up like a statue. There was something about his tone that implied he already knew everything about my life, and my confirmation was unnecessary. Did he really know as much about me as he was implying? It probably wasn’t hard for a man like him to do some digging on my background and find out what I’d done earlier on in my life, but it was still incredibly disconcerting.