Dante steps around me. As he passes me, his arm brushes mine. Tingles dance down my skin. Now he’s behind me. I wish I could see him, but I can’t. I feel the brush of his fingers as he brings the chain around my neck. The pendant rests just below my collarbone. I stare down at it, watching the emerald sparkle beneath the soft light. His fingers clasp the necklace into place. His hands move to my shoulders. Resting on them. The weight of them grounds me. His voice is clear and fills the quiet night, reminding me the way I felt hearing him sing the song he wrote about me. “Adrianna, I freely give you this symbol, and pledge my very life to your safety and protection. Do you accept?”
The weight of his words hit me. This feels an awful lot like a wedding vow. I gulp down my nerves, suddenly aware of all of the eyes watching me. Of what I’m about to commit to. The lifestyle I’m accepting. My stomach ties in knots, my head suddenly light. The silence grows.
I feel the gentle squeeze of his hand on my shoulder.
Reminding me, it’s him. Dante. A man I trust. The man I gave myself to. I remember the inscription he wrote in the book he gave to me on the plane. You are a gift. “I do.”
Dante comes before me. His eyes are shining. His hands go to the sides of my arms. He leans down. Brushing a light kiss over my cheek. He releases me, stepping back.
A smile breaks out on Rockland’s face. “Welcome to the Village.”
The evening quickly changes from a formal ceremony to a raucous party. There’s champagne. Dapper wait staff carrying silver trays of satay, bruschetta, mozzarella wrapped in prosciutto. Then the dancing starts.
It begins with a slow, sultry song, a woman singing words in French over a jazz piano. Couples flock to the center of the rooftop bar. Wrapping their arms around one another and moving seductively across the dance floor.
My gaze searches for Dante. He’s across the way from me, deep in conversation with Rockland and Tess. The trio, as people have taken to calling the new head three. Someone gives my elbow a tug and I look to my side.
A young man stands next to me, his arm pressing against mine. I shoot him a glance out of the corner of my eye. He has dark curly hair. I recognize him from the plane. “Hello?”
He smiles. “Hi. I’m Nicholas. Dante’s right-hand man.”
“Funny how you all in the brotherhood always seem to have a ‘right-hand man.’ Is no one left-handed?”
He tilts his head back and laughs and as he does, two deep dimples pop up on his face, a dark curl falling over his eye.
Babyface.
I realize I not only know him from the plane. I know him from the Parish. That’s what the Beauties call him behind his back. They have a special nickname for each of the single men in the brotherhood. Nicholas is Babyface—the one with the dimples. There’s one with full tattoos covering both arms they call Sleeves. A shorter one with huge round muscles they call the Rock. The list goes on.
“Pleasure to meet you.” I say, holding my hand out to him.
He takes it in his, brings it to his lips and places a gentle kiss. “The pleasure is mine.” Instead of releasing my hand, he continues holding it and asks, “Would you like to dance?”
I look for Dante, but he’s nowhere to be found. I turn my attention back to Nicholas. “Sure.”
He leads me to the dance floor. Turns to me and expertly takes me into his arms. One hand on rests lightly on my waist, the other on my shoulder. I follow his lead, placing my hands opposite on his frame.
He smiles, putting me at ease. We twirl across the floor. He’s a good dancer. “So, how was your lockdown?”
“It was good. I... read a lot.” I will the blush to stop creeping into my face.
His dimples flash. “Dante’s got quite the book collection. Doesn’t he?”
“He does.”
He spins me and I laugh as I teeter on my heels and he pulls me back into him. He holds me closer to him than before. Leans down and whispers into my ear, “What do you say we make Dante a little jealous?”
“What do you mean?” I ask. He’s too close and my skin is getting hot.
His hand presses into my lower back, bringing me toward him. Our waists are almost touching. His gaze rises above my head. “I mean, sometimes Dante needs a little encouragement to go for what he wants.”
“Like... what?” I’d be concerned about how closely he’s holding me, but though our bodies are pressed together, he isn’t paying me much mind. It’s as if he’s working on an ulterior motive.
He ignores my question, his gaze still trained somewhere over my shoulder. His smile widens, his dimples deepening. He says, “Three... two... one...”
“May I cut in?”
I instantly recognize the voice growling behind me.
Nicholas releases me, a teasing glint flashing in his eyes. “She’s all yours.” He thanks me for the dance, giving me a wink as he retreats.
And I’m in Dante’s arms. His hold is much tighter than Nicolas’s was—possessive. His arm wraps tightly around my lower back. His hand grasps mine, holding it in the air. He tugs me into him. Pulling my body against his. Our stomachs touch, my breasts press against him. The way he’s holding me, his stance... it says, back off—she’s mine.
And the feeling makes me ignite. My nipples harden, tense against the thin material of my bra. Moisture pools between my legs. He leans down, his mouth by my ear. His whispers are hot against my skin. “You sure had a pretty smile on your face when you were dancing with him.”
“He’s a handsome guy.” I shrug. Playfully milk his jealousy for it for all it’s worth—it’s turning me on.
He pulls back, his gaze heavy on mine. His arm tightens around my waist. “And you’re a beautiful girl. I’m sure he noticed.” Something flashes in his eyes that makes my gut wrench. I’ve hurt him.
I don’t want Nicholas. I want... Dante.
“I think he was teasing you,” I say, my voice softer and quieter than I mean it to be. I break his gaze, staring at the sword pendant.
His mouth returns to my ear, his breath tickling my skin. “Now why would he do that?”
“He thinks... you like me,” I confess, feeling like a grade school girl with a crush.
His lips brush my cheek in a soft kiss. “And what do you think?”
I shrug. We’d done the most intimate thing two people could do. And when he latched that necklace around my throat... I felt something. Deep within me. He had to feel it too, right?
But then I remember the words he said on the plane—the ones that tore through my gut leaving me breathless: You should date. You should have everything you’ve dreamt of.
That was his way of saying everything but him.
A quiet moment passes between us. My unease grows. Why did I think I could go back to the way things were? His lips brush lightly against my lobe as he murmurs, “Where’d you go?”
I feel lightheaded. Suddenly, his body is too hot against my skin, his lips too close to mine. I’ve got to get out of here. I break away from him, smile apologetically and offer, “Please excuse me. I’m... not feeling that well.”
I force myself to slow my stride but what I want to do is run. Run away from this party, this Village... him. Tears prick in my eyes and I wipe them away as I hastily make my way through the exit. Down the stairs. My heel hitting each step, repeating back to me in my mind, You’re a fool. You’re a fool.
I hit the last step. Collapse onto the staircase in a ball, my arms around my knees. What the hell was I thinking? That after all these years, I could give my body away without giving my heart as well? I should have known better. I should have never tried to lose my virginity for the sake of it. Never come here with him. My bodyguard. My shadow.
The man I’m falling in love with.
* * *
Dante
I open the stairwell door and hear her crying. I want to go to her, to comfort her. But I know what she wants is solitude. I let her be.
When she returns to the party, though her eyes are red-r
immed from her tears, her forced smile is bright, enthusiastic. She begs off, claiming fatigue, jetlag. A few of the Beauties see her home. Where I know, tonight, she’ll choose to sleep alone.
The searing in my chest when I saw Nicholas’s arms around her—I’ve never felt that for a woman. It confused me. Making me act out.
I hadn’t meant to hurt her.
I wait until I’m sure she’s had enough time to get into the house. Out of my line of vision. I go home. Alone.
The next day, there’s a welcome breakfast. We’re seated next to one another. She throws me a polite greeting, then turns to the person on her other side. Conducting her chatter all in that direction, her back turned toward me.
I eat in silence.
Afterwards, Rockland takes me to the office. A tall gray building with the name Bachman Enterprises across the top. We ride the elevator to the third floor. Introduces me around—there were so many people last night, I didn’t have a chance to meet them all, find out what they do here.
As third in command, I’ll be working long hours. Rockland tells me that Adrianna will be fine. That I don’t have to shadow her when she’s in the Village—it’s her time outside of the Village that he’s concerned with. As am I. The memory of Nicholas dancing with Adrianna flashes in my mind, stiffening the muscles in my shoulders.
He and Tess give me a tour of the city. Walk me by the Bachman-run businesses that line the streets of the city, protecting the privacy of our Village within. There’s a bakery, a children’s clothing store, a designer boutique, a gym, a florist, a wine bar...
And on the next street, a club called Gotcha’s. Tess lifts her hand and points her finger toward the club. “This is the dance club the girls like to go to. There’s a girls’ night out tonight in fact. Gotcha’s isn’t owned by the Bachmans, but it’s Bachman friendly.” Code for outsiders who are in on our existence.
Rockland shoots me a glance over Tess’s head.
Adrianna must be planning on attending. I’ll be sure to stay out of sight but keep an eye on her. Out of earshot of Tess, I murmur to Rockland, “Our little girl’s first outing in the big city.”
He hisses between his teeth, “Don’t let her out of your sight.”
Tess’s eyes flash at us. “What are you two whispering about? Is it Adrianna? Leave that poor girl alone. She’ll be fine! I won’t be there, but she’ll be in a group.”
Rockland and I exchange glances. Famous last words from a Beauty... we’ll be fine!
We have lunch at a sidewalk café—Café Fresca. Tess orders us all a grilled asparagus and chicken pasta dish she says the family loves. We head home, grabbing an espresso on the way. We drop Tess off at the office. Rockland leaves me with a group of brothers I need to get better acquainted with. We talk. I size them up, taking in their strengths, their weaknesses.
I head back to the house. It’s still empty—my furniture won’t be here till tomorrow. I sit on the floor, my gaze trained on her house. Waiting for Adrianna to leave for the evening.
I feel like a sad stalker, staring out the window that faces her house. But I don’t want her to know she’s being followed. She has a right to a night out... a little fun. As long as it’s within reason.
And what exactly is reasonable?
A few drinks? Dancing with strange men? Their hands pressed into her body—
I shake the thought from my mind. I’m a bodyguard, nothing else. And she’s a single woman. Free to do what she wants... within reason. I think it’s best I let her do what she will, as long as she isn’t putting her safety at risk.
I can do that.
I’m assuring myself these words when I see her door open. She steps onto her front stoop. Wearing a scrap of fabric that I will not give the courtesy of calling a dress. The black, shiny outfit is skintight and barely covers her round ass. Her legs look a mile long, her feet trapped in high, pointy heels.
The stilettos alone are a mockery to her safety.
She’s wearing makeup, accentuating her full lips and height of her cheekbones. Making her look closer to thirty than twenty. A gaggle of women cross the street—all similarly dolled up—and collect her. She disappears into their circle. Shielded from my eyes.
I slip out my door, follow far enough behind to not get caught. I sense I have a shadow. I turn around and find Nicholas, snickering behind my back.
“What are you doing here?”
“I heard there was a girls’ night out. I thought I might join. Find some single chicks at the club.”
I eye him warily. He confesses, “No, man. I’m just keeping you company. And if I happen to find a single lady in the process, so be it.”
We walk down the sidewalk, shooting the shit. Exchanging first day stories. Comparing notes on the brothers from the Village. We go through the gates. Hit the street. I see the girls disappear around the corner, headed into Gotcha’s.
We grab a table at the café next door. Sit on the patio and sip espresso. She’s free to do what she wants inside that club even though I can’t stand the thought of letting her dance with another man. But if she leaves that door with anyone other than the women she came with... so help me God—
I’m distracted by my thoughts. Drumming my fingers on the table between us.
Nicholas clears his throat. “When are you going to be honest with yourself?”
“About what?” I eye him warily.
“When are you going to admit that you have feelings for Adrianna? That you’ve been watching her in the Parish from the day she arrived? That you aren’t sitting here because Rockland told you to, but because you want to be?”
“I don’t know what you mean.” I take another sip of my coffee.
He folds his hands together on the tabletop. Leans toward me. “The real reason I followed you here tonight was to tell you I think you’re scared.”
“Third ranked member of the deadliest mafia in the world? Scared of what?” I lean back in my seat, my gaze travels to the doors of the club. No movement.
“A broken heart.” His stare cuts right through me. Causing a tightening in my chest. I give him a cold look, but he doesn’t back down. Nicholas never does. “You couldn’t save your sister. You lost her. And now you’re afraid to love again. That your heart will get broken again.”
“That’s... stupid.” I cross my arms over my chest.
He laughs. “Stupid? Nice. What are we? In fifth grade? Just admit how you feel about her.” He raises his hands in the air, open palms facing me. “Then, I’ll leave you alone. I promise.”
“Fine. But I’ve got a lot on my plate. Work to focus on. The last thing I need is a relationship.”
“Love only makes you better at what you do.” He smiles, flashing me those dimples.
“Love? Now you’re saying I love her? Get out of here.”
“Alright. If you don’t have feelings for her, would you mind if I asked her out?” His dark eyebrows waggle at me, teasing.
I know he’s joking but I can’t help my response. My teeth clench. Fire builds in my chest. My hands tighten into fists.
Nicholas bursts out in laughter. “Man—I wish you could see your face.”
“Point taken.” I force my muscles to relax. I breathe, remembering why it is Nicholas is so good for me. “You’re right. I’ve been crushing on her since she came. I thought it was innocent—that we were total opposites and it was just a physical attraction. But then, I spent two days alone with her. Got to know her...”
“Fell for her?” He raises a brow.
“Yes.” There. I finally admitted it out loud. I feel as if a weight is lifting from my chest.
We sit quietly for a few moments. Him giving me space to decompress. After a while the conversation picks back up. We speak of business. New York weather.
We’re still chatting when the girls leave the club. I do a quick count. Twelve. They’re all there. I throw a twenty on the table. Nicholas and I duck out of sight, into an alleyway. They’re headed in the direction o
f the gate they came from. Though I’ve counted twelve bodies, I’m scanning the crowd again.
My heart beats harder in my chest—I don’t see Adrianna. “She’s not there.”
Nicholas peers over my shoulder, getting a better look. “But there’s twelve of them.” We watch as the Beauties gather around the gate. One pops out, looks left and right, and hails a taxi.
A woman I’ve never seen before. “It’s a decoy!”
I turn back to the club, just in time to catch a flash of a round ass encased in shimmering black fabric rounding a corner. I take off in a sprint. Where the hell does she think she’s going, alone at this time of night?
Her dark hair is up in a messy knot, the dress barely covering her ass as she moves down the sidewalk. I run, catching up to her. Grab her arm and turn her toward me but I know before I see her face, it’s not Adrianna.
The stranger pulls from my grasp. Her blue eyes flash in anger. “Hey—what the hell?”
“Who gave you this dress?” I release her arm.
“It’s the one I came in?” Her voice rises at the end of the statement as if she’s asking a question. The anger drains from her face, replaced with fear.
“Then why are you wearing twenty-dollar shoes with a seven-hundred-dollar designer dress?”
“How do you know—”
“Did you steal it?”
She crosses her arms over her chest. Lowers her gaze to the sidewalk. “No... she made me trade her. Said that I could keep it or sell it or do whatever I wanted with it.”
“Where is she now?”
“I don’t know! We went to the bathroom to exchange outfits. I handed mine to her over the top of the stall and when I came out she was already gone.”
Virgin: A Mafia Billionaire Romance Page 12