by Soraya Naomi
Okay...so this isn’t the kind of VIP club I expected, yet I’m intrigued. My friend is called away and tells me that she’ll be right back and to stay put. But I’m enthralled by the crowd, and I wander around just a bit to absorb the quiet, erotic atmosphere.
After I make one trip around the room, I remember that I’m not supposed to be down here, and I hurry back to the elevator to wait for her, but after ten minutes, I figure that she must’ve forgotten me, so I step into it.
I push the button for the first floor, but the elevator goes down another level and opens up into a long hallway. When I push the button again, it doesn’t go back up, and I don’t hear the mechanism turning. I decide to get out when I hear faint noises and follow the sounds until I come upon another passageway that ends at another area. As I reach the doorway, I see it’s a completely different world.
A swarm of people is gathered around a center podium where a group of naked women are lined up.
An auctioneer wearing a black mask slams his hammer on the table. “Sold! Ten thousand.”
I shudder as I take in my surroundings. A woman screams – she’s covered in blood and hanging on a cross. A man fisting his cock stands next to her, and in his free hand is a knife.
Repulsed, I shrink back while fear creeps up my spine.
What is this place?
Then a man in a black suit – with his dark, long hair pulled back from his forehead and tied up in a man bun – rushes to the woman, and I gasp when he feels for her pulse and drops her arm. Abruptly, his head whips around to me. I’m still standing at the rear of the crowd by the doorway, and everyone else is riveted on the naked women being sold, so no one is paying attention to me.
“Who the fuck are you?” he snaps as his hand flies to his earpiece.
Shit! He’s a bodyguard.
“I’m from upstairs, was just on my way back,” I manage to choke out.
He’s on me within seconds, knowing full well that I just witnessed a murder. Grabbing my upper arms, he shoves me backward into the hall and drags me to the elevator, and we move one floor up and to Fat Sal’s office where I hear what will become of my future.
It took me five months to eventually escape. After those five months, I’d changed. I’d hardened. I wasn’t that girl who was easily intimidated anymore, and I now understood that the world is filled with some sick individuals.
*
During the weeks after I fled from Fat Sal, I laid low. Then I found a waitressing job outside the Loop. A job I got fired from – and I still don’t know exactly why – on the same day I met James Calderone. He offered me a way back into the Loop with a job at his private establishment. And a lack of funds convinced me to accept his proposition. When you’re down on your luck, you’ll make unwise decisions. Little did I know that I’d just run from one mafia man into the arms of another, and I stayed there for a year and a half because of Adriano Montesi.
A few months ago, I finally worked up the courage to visit Club 7 in an effort to talk to the one person who could help me, the man that facilitated my escape in the first place. I got in with the help of the hostess of Club 7, who’s apparently missing now, but I had to flee the club when I learned that Sal, Luca and Adriano were also inside at the same time. And that’s had me scared that the two powerhouses, Fat Sal and James, might be working together now.
Fat Sal hunts me to kill me. I know too much about his illegal businesses, and he needs me disposed of. The Chicago Syndicate wants me to pay for supposedly planting a bomb at their headquarters.
Or they’re working together because they couldn’t locate me individually and are hoping that with collaborative resources, they’ll find me quicker. And then still, Fat Sal will kill me.
Deciding to get up from the bed, I head over to the filthy window, the view a brown blur because of the dirt stains on the glass. A crushing feeling of isolation overcomes me on this day that is my birthday. My twenty-eight birthday, which I spend alone, so unlike my previous two birthdays, that were spent with Adriano.
*
Two years ago
I turn twenty-six almost three months after I start my job bartending in James’s strip club. Adriano Montesi, the manager of this oddly located little club, has been hovering around me constantly.
I didn’t like Adriano the first few days. He was wild and untamed, exactly the kind of guy I needed to avoid. He was also pompous, too familiar, and flirted relentlessly – and not only with me. The instant we met, I could read the mischief in his dark brown eyes. Adriano’s tall frame absolutely emanates authority and pure sensuality, and he’s too handsome for his own good. He has a face created for sin, messy black hair that never seems to stay in place, and is constantly wearing a tailored suit, without the jacket. He’s always known the effect he has on women, and that irritated me, so I didn’t give him the time of day beyond being professional and aloof.
But he’s a man used to getting what he wants, and I’m beginning to crack around him. He keeps seeking me out, and his charismatic behavior is wearing me down. My armor is breaking.
I’ve kept a reasonable distance from all the men so far. I get paid on time, and for now, I’m safe from Fat Sal here, but I can’t figure out exactly who these guys are and what they do. I’m almost positive they’re drug dealers because they’re all wealthy and give off that vibe. I also wonder if they might be a gang because I see the same men among the clientele night after night. And although I was told this is a strip club, it appears to actually be some kind of sex club, because there’s stripping, yes, but these women go above and beyond just taking their clothes off. And I think these men are called the Syndicate. I’ve definitely overhead that name.
While I’m wiping off the bar in the almost empty room, Adriano walks in.
I lift a brow and cross my arms over my chest. “You again?”
“Ah, your heartwarming welcome heats my insides, Cam,” he answers playfully.
I saw Adriano this morning. He’s often here either when I start my shift or when it ends, but he’s never taken me home. A driver picks me up and drops me off at night.
“You don’t even give me a chance to miss you,” I retort, continuing to clean, and Adriano covers my hand with his, stopping my movement.
I look up into his eyes while the warmth of his grip burns into my skin.
“How long until you’re finished?” he asks, his face close to mine.
He does this often, invades my personal space. I used to let him goad me, but not anymore. Now I start to play with him. I want to play with him. “Why?”
He leans in closer to my ear and whispers, “I’m your escort.”
I frown, then my brows shoot up. “Escort? You’re offering to let me pay to have sex with you?”
Adriano rears back with a crease in his forehead. Confused, he says, “What?”
“What?”
“What are you talking about?” he repeats, but then understanding dawns on him as confusion is replaced with a Cheshire Cat grin.
“What?! No...You’re being weirdly cryptic,” I fire back in defense. Oh, he meant escort as in driver, not whore.
Adriano tugs me around the bar and presses my back against it. “I like the way you’re thinking, Cam, but unfortunately, I meant that I’ll be driving you home tonight.”
My embarrassment is pushed aside by a swoosh of excitement. Adriano never acts as driver for the staff. I’m enjoying his company too much. I shouldn’t indulge in his attention, because I’ve eavesdropped on many conversations since I started my job, and I know he’s slept with at least two girls who work here. And the other men have let it slip how many women have fallen under Adriano’s spell, only to get hurt the next day when he moves on to someone else. Still, I gravitate toward him. His undeniable charm is a force to be reckoned with. And I’m really enjoying our banter.
I tilt my head and place my palm on his chest, creating a distance between us. “Why are you my driver tonight?”
His lips curl up
into a wicked smile. “Because I never have you alone.”
“Does that work on other women?” I reply sarcastically.
Adriano shrugs and takes my hand in his.
He’s always acting so forward. And it feels strangely nice. I’m not even surprised anymore when he makes these intimate gestures.
I reach for my purse under the bar behind me, and as I turn around, he’s ogling my ass unapologetically.
“Get a good look, my friend?” I put my hands on my hips.
That damn irresistible smirk curves his lips. “Not really – could you turn around?” He actually rotates his finger in the air.
I simply glare at him.
“And maybe bend over?” he adds with a chuckle.
Deciding to ignore his taunts – or else he’ll continue on this path the entire ride home – I tow him with me out the door to the car.
I’ve dozed off in his comfortable silver metallic convertible and awaken when Adriano softly calls my name, brushing my hair out of my face. “Cam, wake up. You’re home.”
My eyes flutter open and collide directly with his. He’s so near, his body heat palpable. My hand automatically touches his unshaven jaw, and his eyelids fall closed as I graze my fingertips over his lips. Adriano lets me explore him without making a smartass comment to break the enchantment like he usually does.
Neither of us interrupts the quietness of our moment. Neither of us moves closer.
Looking at him up close and personal, I trace the tips of my fingers down his cheek. In turn, his hand laces into my hair, cradling my head, and I caress his long, thick lashes.
A feral growl meets my ears, and he opens his eyes. His gaze drops to my lips and then back up. “One of these days. One of these days...I’m going to kiss you, Cam. But not now. Now, you don’t want it bad enough. I want you to beg me for it because you made me wait so long.”
There’s a vow hidden inside his plight, a vow of how when I do finally submit, it’ll be unforgettable. Remarkable. With just a small touch – not even a kiss – just a gentle caress, and a few words, Adriano can entrance me like no other man ever has.
He notices that I’m beginning to want him. We’re both constantly provoking each other.
Adriano stretches his arm and checks his silver watch. “It’s midnight. Happy birthday, beautiful.” And he presses his lips to the side of my mouth.
Twining my arms around his neck, I hug him. It’s such a joy that someone remembered my birthday. I’ve been dreading spending the day by myself – I hate spending birthdays alone. “Thank you!”
He extends his arm to grab a black velvet box on the back seat. “For you.”
“My first present.” Excitedly, I lift the lid, but there’s nothing in it, so I glance up with a sulk.
“What are your plans tomorrow? I know you don’t have any family. I’d like to spend the day with you—”
“To try to get into my bed?” I tease.
“No, just as friends. I promise.” He gives me a boyish grin.
“Okay...What did you have in mind?”
“I’m picking you up at nine a.m. for breakfast, and we’re going to fill your box – no pun intended, I swear – with presents.” He holds up his palms.
Laughing, I reply, “I believe you, and I’d like that. Let’s see where the day takes us.”
I smile as he gets out to open my door and escorts me all the way to my front entrance where we say a friendly goodbye.
And from that night on, Adriano is my new chaperone. The driver still picks me up, but Adriano takes me home almost every night.
The next day, I experience my most memorable and intimate birthday.
*
Where do I go from here? I have two choices: go back to Fat Sal or go back to the Syndicate. Deep down, I don’t want to believe Adriano would hurt me, but that was before I left a bomb at their headquarters and became an enemy, so I don’t know if I can take that risk.
The uncertainty is terrifying, and it’s draining me; therefore, it’s time I make a change. I’m done being the hunted one.
CHAPTER 3
Adriano
I enter the spacious studio room of my loft with exposed brick classic elements and polished concrete ceiling on the fortieth floor of the Astoria Tower, located in the South Loop neighborhood.
Dropping my suitcase on the hardwood floor, I turn to my right to the bar of my open kitchen, which looks out into the living room and is angled toward the eighty-five inch TV hanging on the opposite brick wall. I switch on the lights in the entire apartment, and with one button, my industrial brown loft with one wall existing of floor-to-ceiling windows lights up.
The food portions on the plane were tiny, and now I’m starving, so I order Chinese from the only place close-by that’s still open and will deliver at this late hour.
Then I climb up the floating staircase to my master suite.
After changing out of my suit into sweatpants and a t-shirt, I grab my gold lighter and cigs and open the double glass doors to go out onto the terrace. It’s windy but not cold, and I appreciate this time of night. Flicking open my lighter, I duck inside, out of the wind, to light my smoke.
It’s May 31.
“Happy birthday, Cam.”
I take a draw, letting the nicotine burn down my throat.
She’s alone out there. She must be.
The fumes billow up from my nostrils into the midnight air as I stand with my feet shoulder width apart in the middle of my terrace.
I miss her.
What’s she doing today? Sadness washes over me at the thought of Cam spending today by herself. She detests that.
After she’d worked for us for three months, we grew closer. And our friendly interaction transformed when we celebrated her birthday together.
*
Two years ago
A lot of gorgeous women have captured my attention through the years, and it’s been easy to get into their pants. But Cam is elusive. So stunning, so funny, so incredibly sexy. She’s the first woman who’s ever friend-zoned me, and chasing her has been too amusing. Only, she puts up a wall that I’ve been trying to breach. And I think she wants me to break it.
She’s been opening up slowly since her birthday, which was spent in different restaurants throughout the Loop where we’d eat one small dish and then continue on to the next restaurant she wanted to visit. She downright baffled me with her fantastic idea to pass the day. Food and a beautiful woman. What more can a guy ask for?
I’ve been driving Cam home every night since the first time I dropped her off when we almost had our first kiss. I was rock-hard on the drive to my apartment, still feeling how she gently examined my face with her fingers. How an arousing tremor ran down my spine when she stroked my eyelashes – a strangely sexy move that made me shudder down to my toes.
Because business has been slow, I’ve had time for her most nights. But unfortunately, it’s increased recently, and it’s been difficult to be her driver at the end of every one of her shifts. That bothers me because I enjoy accompanying her home.
As I hit the gas toward our warehouse up north to assist Luca with interrogating a dealer, I text Cam hurriedly.
Adriano: I’m working late. Not sure until what time. Stay in one of the private rooms. I’ll be there later.
Cam: Hi. No, that’s fine. I can ask Damian to take me home.
I’ve seen Damian watching Cam, and he has a hard-on for her. No way is he taking her home. I answer curtly.
Adriano: Stay there. I’ll be expecting you to be at the house later, Cam.
Cam: Bossy, are we?
Adriano: Be careful or I might spank you!
Cam: Promises, promises!!
I get a kick out of her taunts and am anxious for this night to be over.
All of a sudden, we have a new routine. Whenever I’m going to be late, she waits for me in one of the strip club’s private rooms, which has a bed and an adjacent bathroom. And this is all while I’m being friend-zo
ned by Cam.
One night, I arrive at the house after midnight to find her snoring softly on the bed. I’m dead tired and remove my dress shirt before I lie down on the mattress, spooning Cam. She snuggles against me, and I drape my arm around her waist, pulling her into me. Then I drift off to sleep with the sweet scent of vanilla surrounding me. It’s the very first time I’ve ever slept with a woman in a bed for an entire night without having sex.
*
I take another draw from the cig between my thumb and forefinger while watching the Chicago nightline. She’s out there, somewhere, alone.
After the night we literally slept together, our friendship progressed into more. I was constantly pushing her boundaries, and she was always resetting them. I broke her restrictions, but she also broke mine. Before, a woman was just a means to a fuck. Not Cam. She was something else. She became friendlier and more open, yet there was always something holding her back. There was something or someone in her past that had a hold of her present. I could sense it in how she closed down when I’d asked personal questions, which she evaded answering.
Maybe if we’d remained just close friends, we wouldn’t be apart and wouldn’t have made such a mess out of our situation. When I do find her, how will our relationship be now? I’m her father’s Capo.
I finish my smoke and move back inside to go downstairs. Chinese food is delivered five minutes later, but after a few bites of steamed vegetables, my appetite’s gone.
I crawl into bed, beat from worrying about Cam.
I’m sure James will be at my front door as soon as he returns from Italy tomorrow, expecting new information about his daughter – information I don’t have.
***
I hold the door open while eating a sandwich and welcome James and Damian.
James demands an update before I’ve even closed it. “Camilla?”
“Damian?” I prompt Damian to fill us both in.
“She’s missing without a trace. Her cards aren’t being used. We haven’t had a sighting since we lost her after she left Fallon’s therapist’s office months ago. She must have connections or a shitload of cash. Maybe she’s left the country somehow?”
