by S. J. Tilly
“Duh.” Annie hands my phone back. “I want a dress just like that for prom.”
Vincent makes a choking sound. “Prom? What the hell are you talking about!”
Annie gives him a bland look. “It’s this dance, in high school, where you get all dressed up and stuff.”
“I know what prom is.” Vincent replies, still sounding slightly in shock.
Annie twists the knife. “And my boyfriend can plan his outfit around my dress, so we match.”
Vincent moves his mouth, but nothing comes out.
I happily chime in. “You know, when I went to prom my friend had a big sleepover at her house afterwards. She had an outdoor hot tub and we set up tents in her yard to sleep in. It was a ton of fun.”
Annie’s face lights up. “Yes! I want to do that!”
Vincent slowly turns his head to look at me. His jaw is flexing and the hand on my thigh is gripping me tightly.
“That’s enough out of both of you. I think it’s time for bed.”
Annie chuckles and hops up from the table.
“You have five minutes before I come tuck you in!” Vincent calls out after her.
I move to push my chair out, but Vincent increases the pressure of his hand, stopping me.
He leans in, lips brushing my cheek as he speaks in a low tone. “You think you’re fucking cute, putting ideas like that into my daughter’s head. But you’ll pay for that later.” His hand slides further up my thigh. “And don’t ever forget about the resources at my disposal. I may be a good boy now, but I have no issues with hunting down every last man who’s ever put their filthy hands on you.”
“That’s a lot of bodies.” I bluff. It’s not that many.
His hand slides higher. “The Mississippi is a big river.”
CHAPTER FIFTY-NINE
SASHA
M y nerves get worse with each passing block. We’ll be at Mazzanti Enterprises in a matter of moments and there’s no turning back. No time to go back and change into basic black.
Jessica came over to help me get ready. She claimed it was just to help with my hair but considering all she did was smooth it out in soft waves I think the real reason was to make sure I didn’t chicken out on wearing the sparkly pink dress. Jessica convinced Cheryl to let her attend the gala too. I told her I could’ve obviously gotten her an invitation, but she just shrugged. She did the same thing when I asked her why she didn’t just get ready with me so we could ride in together. That shrug was followed by her muttering something about her making an entrance. I have a sneaking suspicion she wants to wow my bodyguard.
Considering tonight’s venue will be overrun with both overt and undercover security, Eric’s been given permission to loosen the reins a little. I’m attending as peripheral help so I plan to mingle and pretend to bid on the silent auction items. It’ll be easier to blend without a shadow.
I close my eyes and take a deep breath. I’m not worried that I look like a tramp, this dress is fancy as fuck. I’m worried that I actually might look like a millionaire’s girlfriend. Paired with strappy black heels, gold stud earrings, smoky eyes, and a bold red lip dye, my outfit is classy. Classier than I’ve ever looked before. Even Eric did a double take when he first saw me. But I’m attending this event as part of the public relations team, not as a personal guest.
The car pulls to a stop at the front doors of M.E., and my time for fretting has run out.
CHAPTER SIXTY
VINCENT
“Y
ou see why we just had to come over and introduce ourselves.” An older gentleman says to me.
“It’s a pleasure to meet anyone who knew my father. Any friend of his…” My eyes wander over the shoulder of the man in front of me, and my words trail off.
She’s here. My woman.
And fuck. Annie was right, she looks like royalty. Like a goddamn queen. She looks like mine.
My heart gives an extra squeeze and I have to swallow before I can speak again.
“Excuse me.” I know I’m being rude, but I don’t wait for a response.
There’s too much space between Sasha and myself, but I use the time it takes me to reach her to take in every detail. Every inch of her is glowing. Her shiny mane of hair. Her glittering eyes. Her lips. Her dress. That fucking dress that somehow equally embodies innocence and sin. The dusty rose color says good girl, but the way it sparkles over her curves whispers sultry goddess.
Just looking at her has my pulse quickening and my cock hardening.
I’m a few feet away when I notice who she’s talking to. Or better yet, what she’s talking to. A man. He’s her age and he looks way too interested in my girlfriend.
When Sasha’s eyes slide to me, I can tell that she knew I was coming. There’s a knowing blush on her cheeks. The little minx knows exactly what she’s doing to me in that damn getup.
I keep my eyes locked on hers as I stop within touching distance. “Sasha.”
Sasha smiles up at me. “Good evening, Mr. Mazzanti. Are you enjoying the event so far?”
“Very, very much.” I drag my eyes down her body.
She nods towards the man who’s standing far too close to her. “This is Jordan, from marketing.”
Turning my gaze, I catch him looking at Sasha’s chest. When he hears that Sasha just introduced him, his eyes jolt up to mine. The anger on my face has him paling.
I lean towards him and lower my voice. “Go away.”
CHAPTER SIXTY-ONE
SASHA
I have to hold in a laugh as I watch Jordan stumble over himself to flee the wrath of Vincent.
Jordan is probably harmless, but he wasn’t taking a hint. Lucky for me, I had the perfect weapon. It took a few careful moves, but I maneuvered us so we’d be in Vincent’s sightline. I knew it was only a matter of time before he spotted me. And I rightfully assumed he’d be much more successful at getting rid of Jordan than I was.
The only reason I’m not currently drooling all over Vincent’s shoes is the fact that I spent five solid minutes earlier staring at him from the corner of the room.
Vincent always looks delicious. Always. But somehow he looks even more lickable tonight. His black suit. Black shirt. Black tie. Dark hair. Soul searching eyes. Stubble shadowing his face. He’s utterly lickable. And he’s mine. All mine.
“Sweetheart. You’re fucking killing me.” Vincent’s tone as his eyes travel over my body is so heated my thighs clench.
I school my features. “Sir, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Vincent leans in, under the guise of talking over the drone of noise in the room. His lips brush against the shell of my ear with each word. “Baby, if you think you can tease me, you have a lesson coming your way. I’m going to tie you to my bed and fuck that sweet look right off your face.” His fingertips start at the top of my bare shoulder and slowly drag down my arm, causing my skin to pebble. “And each man you introduce me to will equal one denied orgasm. So, if you want me to let you come later, you’re going to knock that shit off.”
I don’t know if I should laugh or strip down right here.
His fingers wrap around my wrist. The grip tight, but not bruising. “Nod if you understand me, sweetheart.”
I nod.
“Good girl.” He straightens to his full height and gives me another slow once over. “Goddamn. I can’t decide if I want to plaster you to my side, showing you off as mine, or if I want to lock you in a closet while I rip out the eyes of every man who dares to look at you.”
This time I do laugh. “Darling, I’ve worked so hard to give you a nice image. Please don’t ruin it tonight by mutilating your guests.”
Vincent tilts his head, as though considering his options, before he changes the subject. “Are you enjoying yourself?”
Smiling, I look around the room. “Yeah. Your event team is talented. I know I saw this space the other day, but with the finishing touches and all the beautiful people, it’s like nothing I’ve ever experienced
before.”
I’m telling the truth. The ballroom that we’re in is large enough to hold a few hundred guests. It boasts two full-service bars, black-tie servers with trays of food, and one wall full of professionally displayed auction items.
Vincent hums an agreement. “If there’s something you want to bid on, just write down your name. I’ll buy it.”
I dart my eyes towards the gorgeous hand blown vase on display before I shake my head. “Vincent.”
He squeezes my wrist. “You’re already testing my patience in that dress. Bid on whatever you want. Don’t push me on this.”
I open my mouth to reply, but I’m cut off.
“Mr. Mazzanti.”
I look over and find that bitch Amanda standing right the fuck there.
I know I should put some distance between Vincent and I, but it’s too late now. Plus, I don’t want to. The way she’s been fawning all over Vincent has me wanting to join him in ripping out some eyeballs.
“They’d like to start your speech soon.” Amanda says, her voice throatier than usual.
Vincent’s thumb rubs circles on my skin. “Of course. And you are?”
“Oh, um, I’m Amanda. From PR.” She glances at me, cheeks turning pink, before she looks away.
Vincent winks at me and my mouth pops open. This prick knew exactly who that bitch Amanda was and embarrassed her anyways. God, I really do love this asshole.
He doesn’t bother lowering his voice as he speaks to me. “Find something good for us to bid on. I’ll be upset if we don’t win at least one item.” And if that wasn’t enough, Vincent leans in and presses a kiss to my temple.
I’m too stunned to reply. Or react in any way.
I’m still standing in the same spot a minute later when my clutch vibrates. I pull my phone out and see a text from Vincent. Four hours until midnight. Then your assignment is over. And you’re mine.
This man flusters me when he isn’t even trying, so when he actually puts effort into it… I’m a helpless puddle of a human being.
Needing a distraction, I look around for Jessica. Between her black hair and the siren-red dress I know she’s wearing; she should be easy to spot. On my first scan of the crowd I find her, tucked into a corner with Eric. Not wanting to bother them, but still needing to burn off some of this Vincent-induced tension, I head towards the doors.
The large double doors are propped open since it’s the sort of event where people will come and go. We’re on the second floor, and the lobby area outside the ballroom is spacious and just as nicely furnished as the rest of the building.
Grabbing a glass of wine off a passing tray, I step out into the lobby where it’s much quieter and approach the balcony that looks out over the main entrance on the first floor.
I feel like I can breathe a little easier out here. The sounds and energy of the gala are still nearby, but no longer so overwhelming.
Vincent’s reaction to my dress was on par for all the other men I ran into tonight. It’s great to feel sexy and desired, but the constant stares are a bit stifling. Plus, there’s the underlying stress of being a lone woman fending off unwanted advances. In such a short time, I’ve gotten used to the protection that Vincent offers. Simply standing next to him, I know nothing can touch me. But being without him, I feel like my armor is missing.
“Sasha, there you are!”
I smile as I turn to face the voice. “Hi, Brent!”
Vincent’s assistant looks GQ handsome in a slender-fit grey suit and bow tie.
He whistles. “Damn girl, you look fuckable as hell.”
A laugh gets stuck in my throat and comes out as a snort. “Oh my god, you did not just say that.”
Brent grins. “I must not tell lies.”
I shake my head. “You’re ridiculous.”
“Indeed.” He agrees. “But I’m glad I found you; I was about to give up.”
“I’m at your service. What did you need?”
“There’s a reporter looking for you. I think he had some questions he wanted to ask before Vincent gets up to speak.” Brent looks at his watch. “Which is in like two minutes.”
I step away from the railing. “Oh, no problem.”
“I’m going to head back in there.” Brent nods to the ballroom. “I left the reporter by the elevators, but it took me awhile to find you, so he might’ve moved.”
“I’ll find him. What does he look like?”
Brent shrugs. “Bald. Nerdy. Not my type.”
I give him an Annie eye roll. “Helpful.”
Brent laughs then breaks off to go through the open doors. It’s not until after he’s gone that I remember there are two sets of elevators.
Not wanting to miss Vincent’s speech, I move as quickly as my deadly heels allow.
There are a few people chatting near the elevators, but none of them are bald men. I slip past them and continue down the hall. The other bank is just around the corner.
It only takes me a second to realize that there’s no one over here. I shake my head at myself as I turn around. Or course he’s not at the far set of elevators. That wouldn’t even make sense.
I’ve taken one step when a hand lands on my shoulder. The sensation’s so startling that I jolt and turn towards the touch on instinct. That’s when the pain hits. A sharp, stinging sensation in my neck. I open my mouth to scream but no sound comes out.
A second later the pain stops. Replaced by a spreading warmth. My neck, my shoulders, my arms. The feeling is like nothing I’ve experienced before.
I know something is wrong, but I can’t figure out what’s happening to me. My chest feels heavy. My brain’s fuzzy. My thoughts can’t keep up with my body. But my soul is screaming at me. It’s shouting to me that I’m in danger.
I try to run. Try to push my foot forward. It doesn’t move.
Something circles my waist, pulling me backwards.
I stumble. My arms not cooperating. They’re hanging limp at my sides rather than reaching out to break my fall.
But I don’t fall. My body is pressed against… something. Someone.
The sensation of touching a stranger, fuels the terror already spiraling down my spine.
I’m moving.
It’s like I’m having an out of body experience. I can see my feet out in front of me. I’m being dragged. My purse is on the floor. My glass of wine laying shattered across the tile.
My heels make a scraping sound as they’re pulled over an uneven surface.
Blackness swims over my vision. I blink hard. My mouth is still trying to form words but no sound comes out.
I blink again.
With my vision narrowing, I watch in horror as the elevator doors slide shut in front of me.
CHAPTER SIXTY-TWO
VINCENT
“W
e would never have been able to accomplish these goals without the help from the wonderful people in this room. I want to personally thank each and every one of you for your dedication to this community. To striving towards a world without homelessness. A world without hunger.”
My words float around the room, all eyes on me. All eyes but Sasha’s.
I raise my glass. “Now go spend some money.”
The crowd raises their glasses as they chuckle, but I’m already walking away from the podium.
Sasha doesn’t need to hear my speech. I don’t care about that. I just care about her. I care that she’s not here. She wouldn’t miss this. Not if she could help it. Something is wrong.
I spot Angelo. He sees the look on my face and steps away from his conversation.
“What’s wrong, Vin?” He asks.
“Sasha. Where is she?” His concerned glance around the room tells me everything I need to know. “When did you last have eyes on?” I ask.
“I saw you two together and then I saw her head out into the lobby area.”
We’re both walking before he’s even done talking.
I spot Brent as we near the doors.
&n
bsp; “Brent!” I bark his name.
“Yeah, boss?”
“Where’s Sasha?”
His brows furrow as he thinks. “Oh, um, I guess I haven’t seen her since she went to talk to that reporter.”
A familiar flood of adrenaline fills my veins. “What reporter?”
“I didn’t get his name.”
Angelo and I move in on him, causing Brent’s eyes to widen.
“What did he look like? Details.” I demand.
Brent looks as scared as I feel. “Um, white guy. He was bald. Like shaven bald, not old person bald. Short. Thin. Really blue eyes. Like, crazy blue.”
My pulse roars through my ears. It’s Randal. The son of a bitch is here. He walked right into my building.
Angelo has his phone out.
I grab Brent by the front of his shirt. “Where?!”
He points behind him. “The – The elevators.”
My legs are running before I even tell them to. I slow at the first group of elevators, but my gut tells me this isn’t the one.
Rounding the corner, my eyes immediately snag on the small gold purse on the floor. Right next to a shattered glass.
Sasha!
Panic and rage war inside of me.
I press the button to call the elevator and it doesn’t even light up. Angelo tries the other one and the same thing happens.
Eric comes running around the corner and Angelo shouts for him to try the other elevators.
“My office.” I think the words out loud, causing Angelo to turn and face me. I say it again. “My office. The bastard fucked with the elevators and went up.” I hold my hand out, palm up. “Find someone to get these things fucking working, then follow me up.”
Angelo nods and pulls the gun from a hidden holster and slaps it into my hand. “I’ll be right behind you, brother.”
I shove through the door to the stairwell. 19 flights of stairs. I have no choice but to sprint them.
