“I know.” Pen sighs. “I just worry about her. I’m all for sexual equality and exploring your options, but her penchant for fucking dangerous assholes could come back to bite her someday, and I don’t want to see her hurt. Especially not on your birthday night. I want you to look back on this night with fond memories.”
“And I will.” I pat her arm in reassurance, hoping I’m right.
Spiking Tony’s drink with sleeping pills might not have been the smartest play. If my father knew I was partying in Las Vegas without my bodyguard, he’d throw a hissy fit. He doesn’t understand how restrictive it is. How it gets old having Tony trail me wherever I go. One would think I’d be used to it by now, because I’ve had a bodyguard for as long as I can remember, but I hate the intrusion and the attention it draws.
Being the daughter of the billionaire owner of Lawson Pharma comes with its fair share of perks and drawbacks. Lack of privacy being one. I wanted to come to Las Vegas and party with my friends without Tony breathing down my neck or having him relay every minute detail to my father.
Sometimes, I just want to be normal. A normal girl, out celebrating her birthday with friends, doing all the mad crazy shit normal twenty-one-year-old women do. Is that so bad to want? Honestly, if a genie appeared and granted me a wish to live a normal life in exchange for giving up the money and the trappings of wealth that come with our lifestyle, I would do it in a heartbeat. I wouldn’t need to think about it. Not for a second.
I plan to get laid at some point during the trip, and Tony vetting any potential fuck buddies usually kills the mood and ends my fun.
Shove an NDA at a guy and see how fast he hightails it away.
It’s the main reason I’ve only had one serious boyfriend and only had sex with two men.
Father is controlling as fuck. It’s his form of OCD. One part of me understands it. His wealth and his notoriety draw all kinds of crazies, and he won’t take any chances with his family. My sisters and my mother have designated bodyguards too, and Father travels with an entourage of two or three bodyguards. But sometimes, it seems like overkill, and I wonder how much of it has to do with my safety and how much with him knowing every aspect of my life and manipulating me so he’s the one in control, not me.
He doesn’t understand why I’m not obedient like my sisters. Why I fight him on practically everything. He cannot grasp the concept I have my own plans, my own ambitions, and I want to forge my own path in life. I don’t want to work for the family business like Saskia and Serena, and he went apeshit when I refused to enroll in the same business program my sisters attended at U of C. He threatened to disown me when I applied to study biomedical science with my sights set on alternative therapy as a chosen career, but Mom talked him into it.
“Earth to Sierra.” Pen clicks her fingers in my face. “You spaced out, girlfriend.”
“I did, but I’m back now.” We almost slam into Esme’s back as she stops unexpectedly. We are mere feet from the man, but he’s engrossed in conversation with a bunch of dudes in suits, and I don’t think barging our way in there will help Esme’s cause.
“That conversation looks pretty heated,” Esme says, keeping one eye on her target as she glances quickly at us.
“We should take that as our cue to leave.” Pen makes one final effort.
“I’m not wasting this opportunity.” A look of determination ghosts over Esme’s face. It’s a look I’m well-versed in. “I just have to time it carefully.”
“Let’s wait over there,” I suggest, pointing at an empty high table just behind the men. “That way, he can’t leave without us seeing.”
“Good idea.” She bobs her head vigorously, leading me around the men. Of course, she makes sure to stare at them as we pass, because subtlety and Esme do not go hand in hand. I look straight ahead, not wanting any of them to think I have any interest. From the brief glimpses I’ve seen, they are all way older, like my father’s age, and the thought of any of them touching me makes my skin crawl. Esme has a thing for older guys, but they are not usually that old.
Esme slides onto one of the stools, strategically choosing the one which faces the men, while Pen and I claim the other two seats, happy to have our backs to them. We put our drinks down, talking in hushed tones for a few minutes, while Esme pointedly stares at the guy she has set her sights on.
“You’re being obvious,” Pen says.
“That’s the point,” I reply before Esme can.
“Exactly.” Esme grins. “He’s locked eyes with me a couple times, so it’s working.” She drinks noisily through her straw while maintaining eye contact over our shoulders. “And we’re on,” she adds, pulling her shoulders back, her grin expanding. “He’s coming this way.” She slants us a cautionary look. “Let me do the talking. ’Kay?”
“Trust me,” I say, finishing my drink. “He’s all yours.”
2
SIERRA
“Hello, ladies.” His deep, rich voice fills my ears while his breath fans the side of my face, and I automatically stiffen, straightening my spine as I stare straight ahead, refusing to look at him. Heat rolls off his body in noxious waves, and I jolt when his arm brushes against mine. Doesn’t he understand the concept of personal space? And why is he standing so close to me? It’s not like I’m the one eye-fucking him these past ten minutes.
“Hello to you too.” Esme’s broad smile drips confidence, and she doesn’t shy away from holding his gaze.
“Are you enjoying my club?” he inquires, confirming he is the owner. I hope that’s all Esme is right about though.
“Very much so,” she replies. “This place is amazing.”
“And your friends?” he inquires.
The air distorts as he repositions himself directly in front of me, forcing me to look up. Eyes as dark as night latch onto mine with immediate interest, and I smother my shocked gasp as he blatantly checks me out.
My assumptions were correct—he is definitely older. At least forty. It’s hard to pin an age on him because his face is badly scarred and his skin is riddled with pockmarks. His Armani suit is tight-fitting, hiding little, and I can tell he is built but lean.
He lifts a brow, waiting for a reply. I’m not sure he’s even noticed Pen, and considering she’s mute and motionless beside me, it’s up to me to answer him. “We are having a great night. Thank you,” I say, hating how intensely he’s scrutinizing my face.
“It’s Sierra’s twenty-first birthday,” Esme supplies, and I shoot daggers at her. What the actual fuck? Why would she tell him that?
“Is that right?” he asks, maintaining eye contact with me. His eyes actually aren’t black; they are a very deep shade of brown, but they are completely unnerving. The intensity of his probing gaze is like nothing I’ve encountered before, and I’m trembling inside. The man screams power and danger, and my internal alarm system is going crazy, urging me to run away. There is no disguising the hunger in his gaze as he drinks me in from head to toe, and it only adds to my anxiety.
I give him a curt nod, squirming in my seat, hugely uncomfortable with his singular attention. Didn’t his mother ever tell him it’s rude to stare?
Lifting his arm, he clicks his fingers, still staring at me like his eyes are glued to mine and he has no control over it. A waiter immediately approaches. “A bottle of our finest champagne for the beautiful birthday girl and her pretty friends,” he demands.
“Coming right up, Mr. Salerno. Sir.” The waiter scuttles off, looking petrified, and I know how he feels.
“That’s very generous,” I say. “But not necessary.” I don’t want to take anything from this man. He strikes me as the type who never gives anything away for free. There will be a price, and it won’t be the usual currency.
“You can call me Saverio.” He snatches my hand uninvited. “Miss?”
“Lawson,” I croak, working hard to contain the shivers of disgust tiptoeing up my spine as he brings my hand to his mouth, kissing it. His eyes never leave mine as
his lips linger on my skin. His gaze devours me, and he is unashamedly forward, shielding nothing. I can tell he’s a man who is used to getting what he wants, and I’m fucking terrified at how much he seems to want me.
I am going to kill Esme for this.
“So, are you here on business or pleasure?” Esme asks, strategically propping her elbows up on the high table and leaning forward, granting him a clear view of her ample cleavage. She flashes him a seductive smile that normally has men falling at her feet.
He drags his gaze from mine, releasing my fingers, and I release the breath I was holding. The smile he gives Esme is downright scary. Pleasant at first glance. Until you see the irritation behind the tight pull of his mouth and the lethal glint in his eye. I don’t think he’s used to being interrupted, and he most certainly doesn’t like it.
Esme’s smile falters as she cowers under his intimidating gaze.
“Business,” he says in a clipped tone. “Although meeting the beautiful birthday girl is definitely all pleasure,” he adds, returning his focus to me.
Esme’s shoulders droop for a split second before she shrugs, plastering a smile on her face again. It’s not like her to give up so easy, but she’s a pragmatist too. She knows a lost cause when she sees it. We also have a rule about never falling out over a guy. Although, I’m sure she can tell by my reaction that I have zero interest in this man.
I glance at her again, not surprised to discover she’s now eye-fucking the man standing behind Scarface Salerno, oblivious to the mess she’s caused. Saverio is ogling me with blatant desire, and I’m regretting my decision to drug Tony. For once, I actually wish my bodyguard was here. Underneath the table, Pen grabs hold of my other hand, squeezing it in support. I can’t recall a time when Pen was ever this quiet, and it’s telling.
“You are the most breathtaking creature, Ms. Lawson. Truly exquisite.”
Creature. Really?
Panic returns when he raises his hand to my head, his thumb and forefinger rubbing a few strands of my hair like he has a God-given right to touch me without permission. If he was any other guy, I’d shove him away and tell him to take a hike, but this man is no ordinary guy—he’s a predator of the worst kind—and only an idiot would risk his wrath, so I zip my lips and pray I can hide my fear.
“I have never seen blonde hair that’s so golden, so pure, so mesmerizing.”
“Thank you.” I fake a smile. He continues rubbing my hair, and I bite down hard on the inside of my mouth, sitting on my hands to stop myself from slapping his hands away. A shudder works its way through me, and while I’m trying to keep my cool, it’s hard to restrain the anxiety infiltrating my veins, creeping into every part of me the longer he continues staring at me.
He is freaking me the fuck out, and no one is calling him out on his batshit behavior either, so I’m guessing this is the norm. The more he ravishes me with his eyes, the more terrorized I become.
How the hell could Esme even consider hooking up with a man like this?
He is legit scary, and I find nothing attractive about him. Briefly, I wonder how he got those scars before pushing those thoughts aside because I’m freaked out enough as it is without adding my overactive imagination into the mix.
The guy is still staring at me, rubbing my hair, and salivating as his gaze rakes me from head to toe. Pen presses her body up against mine, offering silent support. Her body trembles, and I know she’s scared too. I want to yell at him to stop undressing me with his eyes, but my vocal cords are paralyzed with fear, and I’ve resorted to praying for divine intervention.
Saverio looks like the kind of guy who would crush me with the slightest touch and the type of man who likes to rough it up in the bedroom. I know some women get off on being manhandled, but I’m not one of them.
“Boss.” The man Esme has turned her attention to steps up close to Saverio’s side, whispering something in his ear.
Saverio nods, dropping my hair and stepping aside as the waiter reappears with our champagne. “I must go. I have business to attend to.”
Thank fuck. “It was nice meeting you,” I lie, placing my hands on my lap. “And thank you for the champagne. It’s very generous.”
“The pleasure was all mine, Ms. Lawson.” He clicks his fingers, and another man scurries over. His name tag says he’s the manager in charge. “Mr. Landers. Please escort Ms. Lawson and her friends to the Givenchy booth, and get them whatever they want.”
I open my mouth to protest when Esme kicks me under the table. She drills me with a look that begs me not to refuse. She clearly doesn’t know me very well if she thinks I am accepting any more “freebies” from this man.
“Until we meet again.” Saverio casts one last salacious glance my way before departing with his companions in tow.
I slump against the table, expelling my breath in spurts, relieved he’s gone.
“If you would follow me,” Mr. Landers says, sweeping his arm out wide and ushering me forward.
“We need to wait for the rest of our party,” Esme replies, looking nonchalant as she swipes the bottle of expensive champagne from the ice bucket and proceeds to pour it into glasses. “They are on the way.”
“Very well. I will return to escort you in a few minutes,” he says before walking off.
Propping my elbows on the table, I lean over at Esme. “Text the others. Tell them we’re leaving.”
“Are you out of your mind?” She stares at me like my brain has just escaped my skull. “Do you know how many girls would kill to get into the VIP area? And he’s reserving the Givenchy booth for us. The freaking Givenchy booth!” she squeals, clasping my hands. “It’s usually reserved for celebrities. C’mon, Sierra. We can’t pass up this chance.”
“That man scares the shit out of me, and I want to put as much distance between me and him as I can,” I tell her before sliding off the stool.
“I’m with Sierra,” Pen says, climbing off her stool. “There are plenty of other clubs we can go to.”
“He wasn’t that scary,” Esme protests.
“That’s only because you were too busy eye-fucking that other guy to notice the vibes he was giving off.” Pen grabs my arm. “The way he was looking at you creeped me out.” She visibly shudders.
“Tell me about it.” Planting my hands on my hips, I drill Esme with a deadly look. “It’s my birthday and I’m pulling rank. I want to leave. Now, before he changes his mind and comes back for me.”
“There you are!” Tammy shrieks, throwing her arms around me from behind. “We didn’t know where you went,” she adds, slurring her words as she steps around me, slinging her arm around Esme’s shoulders.
“We might have run up the tab,” Heather says, looking a little apologetic.
“Don’t worry about it. My father’s good for it.”
Father put a ton of extra cash on my black card to cover the costs of this weekend, which is ridiculous and unnecessary as I already have enough in my account to feed a small nation. He forgets I’m not like my sisters. I don’t waste thousands every month on designer clothes, bags, and shoes, and I’m not at the beauty salon or plastic surgeon every other day. Now they are married, at least Father is no longer footing astronomical bills.
If he took the time to talk to me, Father would know this about me. But he’d rather throw money my way than have to suffer my company. Both my sisters let him throw lavish parties for their twenty-firsts at The Drake Hotel. They were full of his old cronies, and I was so bored at Serena’s party I fell asleep under the table. I didn’t realize I was hidden by the tablecloth, and Father almost called the cops when they couldn’t find me at the end of the night. He grounded me for two weeks after that. All because sixteen-year-old me had the audacity to fall asleep. So, when Mom offered me the same party option, I turned her down flat without having to think about it. I think she was relieved.
“Oh my, wow. That is freaking awesome! I’ve heard the VIP room here is sick.” Tammy shrieks as I rejoin the conv
ersation.
I groan. “Don’t you start. You didn’t meet the owner. He gives me the creeps.”
“He wasn’t that bad,” Esme argues as she applies a fresh layer of gloss to her lips.
“He looks like the kind of man who devours puppies for breakfast,” Pen says, looping her arm through mine.
“And pussies for lunch,” Esme quips, throwing her head back and laughing. I pin her with a look. “What? She walked right into that one.” She nudges me in the side. “You’ve got to admit it’s funny.”
“There is nothing funny about being trapped in that man’s heated stare. Trust me. I feel ill just thinking about the way he looked at me.”
“He’s gone now, and you heard him, he has business, so you won’t see him again.”
“Nope. I want to leave.” I’m not naïve enough to think he doesn’t have plans to seek me out after his business has concluded.
A chorus of boos ring out, and I clutch Pen’s arm as the other six girls beg me to stay. In the background, I see the irritated expression on the manager’s face as he stands back while we debate it. “Come on, Sierra.” Tammy puts her hands on my shoulders, fixing me with a pleading look. “Let loose! It’s your birthday, and we’re in Sin City, so sin a little; otherwise, why did we drug Tony?”
Valid point. But still. Maybe Scarface Salerno isn’t in the mob. Maybe his looks earned him that reputation, but whether he is or isn’t is beside the point now. I’m on his radar, and I’d prefer to disappear off it. Hanging around here won’t do me any favors. “We can get into the VIP room elsewhere,” I say, hoping my father’s name is enough to swing it for me around here.
“Not at this late hour,” Esme says. “You usually have to arrange it in advance unless you’re a known celeb.”
“We won’t let that man anywhere near you,” Heather says, and the others nod in agreement.
“There are seven of us, and we’re not going to let him come within ten feet of you,” Esme agrees.
Condemned to Love:  Page 3
