Determined not to take a penny from Tyson or touch the small amount of money her mother had left AJ, Ori worked in retail stores, bars, restaurants, diners, all to make enough to pay her rent and keep food on the table. At college, she excelled and graduated from her arts program with honors. It was only when she started to be offered places in graduate programs that Tyson started to interfere again. Suddenly Ori would be turned down or rejected for places she had initially been offered unconditionally. Tyson broke into her apartment one night and told her that she would never be free of him, that she belonged to him. When her mother died five years ago, Ori had taken the still-teenage AJ and moved away from New York, hiding out in Arizona, and putting AJ through state school.
Tyson had found them within weeks and, threatening Ori with arrest, had taken his son back to New York. Unwilling to leave AJ, Ori had reluctantly followed, knowing that as long as AJ was underage, Tyson had them.
He raped her again on her twenty-fifth birthday, and this time, he beat her too. Leaving her bleeding and bruised, he got dressed and grabbed her by the throat. “Try and leave me, Ori. Just try. They won’t be able to identify your body for weeks.”
But living in a world of terror can make the strongest person break. Ori quit her job and stayed at home for three months, not speaking to anyone. In the end, it took a concerned ex-co-worker to come find her and pull her out of the mire. Lucia had been over from Italy to see her parents, Italian immigrants to New York, and had been horrified to see Ori so depressed. She had told her then to come to Italy, to escape.
Three years after that final rape, when Tyson’s scandal erupted and the press was all over their family, AJ checked himself into a facility for depression, and Ori called Lucia. It had been her one chance to escape Tyson. Now that she knew AJ was okay and that he was safe where he was …it was time for her to look out herself.
“Hey, penny for them. We’re here.” Lucia nudged her, smiling.
Lucia’s apartment was huge. Her guest bedroom looked out over a canal and had a little balcony where Ori could sit and sketch or just sit and watch the day. She looked around the bedroom. Huge bed, vanity, en-suite bathroom. A small table and chair for her to work at. Ori smiled at Lucia gratefully.
“Luce, this is amazing, thank you”
Lucia hugged her. “I hoped you’d like it. Now, everything is handled. I’ve even taken the liberty of getting you a few clothes. Now, I know you hate dressing up, but believe me, try it, just for an evening. I’ve bought you plenty of jeans and T-shirts too”
Ori laughed. “I don’t know how to thank you, Luce”
“I want you to relax. Be yourself. Don’t worry about money or anything. I have too much as it is. Maceo’s a shit, but he pays exceptionally well”
Ori was curious about her friend’s boss. “Why is he a shit?’
Lucia chuckled, rolling her eyes. “Don’t get me wrong. I like him a lot, but he’s a whore. A complete and utter man-slut. He’s already worked his way around my staff”
“You?”
“Hell, no. I’ve had my fill of Maceo’s kind – I’m happy with my boyfriend. And get this: Maceo has four friends, all gorgeous, all billionaires. All of them exactly like him” She told Ori about The Midnight Club and Ori laughed.
“Cavemen?”
“Some of them. A couple of them are okay … Seth and Alex. Alex just lost his fiancée a few months ago. He’s a wreck, but trying not to show it. Anyway, you’ll meet them tonight, no doubt”
Lucia left her alone to rest, and Ori walked slowly around the room, feeling the soft white voile curtains and the firm mattress of the bed. She curled up on it now, phone in hand. AJ had messaged her.
How’s Italia, sis?
She smiled. Beautiful, but wish you were here too.
She checked the clock. A quarter of two. She wondered if AJ would be in one of his group meetings about now. She didn’t hear back from him, so she assumed he was and closed her eyes. Just five minutes’ sleep. Within minutes she was dead to the world as, outside her window, Venice basked in the early afternoon sun.
Maceo Bartoli said a few words at the beginning of the reception. Then, with a flourish, he cut the ribbon and the gallery was open. He felt a certain pride as his guests chattered excitedly and sought him out to ask questions. He especially enjoyed the attentions of the beautiful women who drifted around the room. He glanced up and saw his four best friends huddled against the back wall, grinning at his easy flirtation with the guests. He managed to make his way over to them and gratefully took a glass of champagne from Seth, the tall Canadian.
“Dude, congratulations. A triumph”
Maceo raised his glass. “To us”
Lisander, the brooding Argentinian fashion designer, nodded at some of the exhibits. “Nice showing of South American art. Thank you, Maceo”
Maceo grinned. “If I could only persuade you to allow me to hang some your design sketches, Sander”
Benoit, an elegant Frenchman, flicked his dark brown eyes across the room. An architect, he nodded approvingly at the galleries design. “This is a good space, Maceo. A very good space”
Maceo grinned at him, his green eyes shining. “Enough about that.” he raised his glass. “Happy birthday, my brothers”
Later, he was talking to a local artist, assuring the man that he would champion Italian art above all else. The man, although talented, had god awful dog breath and so Maceo was edging away from him slowly. Finally, with a sigh of relief, he managed to escape to one of the balconies. He stepped out into the cool Venetian air and heaved a sigh of relief. He didn’t see the young woman sitting on one of the stone plinths until she gave a small, embarrassed cough. He turned to see a small brunette in a dark mauve cocktail dress. She had long dark brown hair pulled over one shoulder and her cheeks were adorably flushed pink.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you”
She was American, with a soft, melodic voice and eyes the color of the ocean, dark green and large. She had thick, thick dark lashes and a rosebud mouth. Maceo felt his cock twitch and he immediately went into seduction mode. He’d exhausted his supply of assistants, and he was damned if he was going to sleep alone tonight. He ran his eyes over her body, taking in the curve of her waist, full breasts, and shapely legs. He could already imagine that lush pink mouth around his cock. He smiled at the young woman.
“It is my pleasure, Miss …?”
She looked wary. “Orianthi”
“Miss Orianthi”
“No.” She chuckled slightly, “That’s my first name”
“It’s beautiful,” he said without missing a beat, his eyes locked on hers, and holding out his hand. She shook it. “Maceo Bartoli. Did you like the exhibit?”
“Very much. You have a Hopper on loan, I see. He’s my hero. I also liked the Mamani Mamani selection”
Maceo’s eyebrows shot up. “You know your paintings”
Ori nodded. “I majored in art and I worked for a while as a curator”
Maceo was impressed, but he was still distracted by her body. He could smell her scent— perfume, soap, clean laundry and fresh air. He wondered how her cunt would taste and how it would feel. He shot a quick look in through the French windows … could he take her here? Suddenly being inside this beautiful woman was all he could think about.
He blinked, trying to concentrate on what she was saying. He smiled as she stammered to a halt, suddenly noticing his scrutiny. “Orianthi, would you care to have a late supper with me tonight?”
She grinned, and her smile made his cock thicken painfully. She really was gorgeous. But she shook her head. “Mr. Bartoli, I should tell you. I’m staying with Lucia Fernando. She and I are best friends and let’s just say … your reputation precedes you. Thank you, but no”
She nodded, half-smiling, and went back inside, leaving Maceo staring after her. Remind me to fire Lucia, he thought to himself, knowing that a) he would do nothing of the sort; he couldn’t function without Lu
cia running his business and b) … that whoever she was, the girl called Orianthi had just laid down the ultimate challenge to Maceo Bartoli. Get her into bed or die trying. Maceo grinned to himself and went back into the gallery to rejoin his friends.
They say the first time is the hardest. They say it gets easier the more you kill. Yes, he had found that to be true. Killing Viola had been life-changing, along with that surprise in her eyes as he shot the crossbow bolt into her at point blank range and the horror. Then there was her blood, carrying her lifeless body to the edge of the river and dumping her in, watching her blood mix with the water. He had never felt such peace.
And now he knew he would do the same to any woman that the Midnight Club grew attached to or fell in love with. He would kill them all. He stared at the girl in the mauve dress. She looked like Viola too— dark, sensual, curvy. He hoped she would stay away from the Club and away from them all. Otherwise … it would be her death sentence.
Alex Milland rolled over onto his back and sighed. No sleep again. Three a.m. He considered, then grabbed his phone. He knew one of his friends would still be up—well, he knew Maceo would also be up and fucking some hot girl he’d picked up at the opening. Alex grinned to himself. Maceo was a machine. He could turn his feelings off. Maceo was an expert at that, and Alex envied him for it.
No, he could call on Seth, the calm center of their group. Quiet, fiercely intelligent, and with an empathy that somehow the rest of them lacked, Seth was Vancouver’s answer to Bill Gates. He was a brilliant mind but, Alex knew, also a solitary one. And, to Alex’s own benefit tonight, Seth was also an insomniac. He sent Seth a text message, and sure enough, a reply came back almost immediately.
Bar is still open.
He found Seth sitting at the bar, nursing a glass of scotch. He looked exhausted, but smiled at his friend, sliding a bottle of Johnny Walker Blue over to him. “How’re you doing, Alex?”
Alex shrugged. “Existing”
Seth nodded in sympathy. “I’m sorry, man. I can’t even imagine. They still haven’t a clue who murdered Viola?”
Alex sighed. “No. I can’t get my head around it, Seth. I just don’t get it. I just don’t know what it would take for someone to do that to Viola, man. She was kind and loving to everyone. Such a fucking waste”
“I hear you, brother”
Alex took a slug of scotch. “I tell you, man, never again. No more long-term things. I don’t think my heart could cope”
Seth studied him. “Alex … you can’t let this stop you from being happy ever again”
Alex gave a humorless laugh. “Look who’s talking”
“That’s different,’ Seth said shortly. “Irina cheated on me. Not the same at all. I just haven’t the time for relationships. I can get a quick fuck whenever I need it; why bother with the rest?”
“Cold”
“Not cold; smart”
Alex sighed. “Where are the others?”
“Not being smart”
Alex chortled. “God, you really did get up on the wrong side of the bed today”
Seth rubbed his face. “I just want some damn sleep, man”
“I know how you feel”
Seth put his arm around Alex’s shoulders. “I’m sorry, buddy. You must miss her. We all do”
An hour later Alex was back in bed, listening to the rain fall outside. He closed his eyes, but he could only see Viola’s pale, gray face. Dead. Her body so still on the mortuary slab. The detective asking him to identify her.
Alex pushed the thought away and finally, rolled over at six a.m., falling asleep.
Ori stood under the spray of the shower, trying to shake the dream she had just awoken from. Not that it was a nightmare—far from it—and it was a change to have such a pleasant dreams for once. Ha, she thought. Pleasant’ is hardly the word. Try hot. Try sensual. Try the sexiest, most erotic dream she’d ever had.
And of course, it had to be about that damn Maceo Bartoli, didn’t it?
Ori closed her eyes and the water poured over her body. For a second she indulged in the remembrance of the dream … the part where Maceo Bartoli ordered everyone out of his gallery except her, then made her stand naked in the middle of the floor while he circled her, watching, studying her, and describing everything he wanted to do to her. God, she shivered as she remembered, her hand snaking down her thigh and into her sex, rubbing her clit as she thought of him ordering her to spread her legs before he took out his enormously hard cock and …
“Ori?” Lucia yelled through her bathroom door.
Ori’s eyes snapped open and, flushing guiltily, she shut off the water and stepped out of the shower. Wrapping a towel around herself, she opened her bedroom door. Lucia looked apologetic.
“Hey, sweetie, I’m sorry. Maceo’s called me into work, so we’ll have to postpone our shopping trip”
Ori was disappointed. “Oh. Well, that’s okay, I can just wander around and get to know the place. We can shop another day”
Lucia smiled at her gratefully. “Thanks, darling, I am sorry. Look, I have a handy travel guide book that I’ve left on the table—it was invaluable when I first moved here. Just be vigilant. OH, look what I’m saying. Is there a place in the world where we women don’t have to be vigilant?”
Ori laughed. “Can’t think of anywhere, but yes, I will be. I’ll keep to the tourist traps”
After her friend had gone, Ori dressed in jeans and a loose, flowing white shirt. She pulled her long dark hair into a messy ponytail. Sliding her feet into her old battered Chuck Taylor’s, she grabbed her bag, shoved the guidebook inside, and headed out.
This year, Venice in March was unseasonably warm, and soon Ori had lost herself in exploring the place, taking water taxis, letting herself drift down small passages. She ended up on the island of Giudecca and found a small bar-trattoria to have lunch in. She ordered a small tuna salad and ate with pleasure, a glass of wine on the table, watching the people as they passed on the street. She got lost in daydreaming, so when the man who appeared by her side spoke, she started in her chair.
Maceo Bartoli was smiling down at her and god, if a beat didn’t start pulsing between her legs. He was gorgeous, all scruffy charm and confidence and very, very tempting, but Ori knew his type. Once he’d had her, she would be old news, and she didn’t think her confidence could take that kind of hit right now.
“I’m sorry,’ she said, coolly, “I didn’t hear what you said”
Without being asked, Maceo sat down in the chair opposite her and signaled to the waiter. “I said, if I pretend that you agreed to have dinner with me, I can count this as our first date”
She glared at him. “Did you follow me?”
Maceo laughed. God, his smile really was something else … no. Do not fall for it, she told herself sharply.
“I wish I were that sneaky,” Maceo admitted. “But no, I promise. Coincidence. A happy one for me, at least. You?”
Ori hid a smile behind her wine glass. She had to admit his confidence was amusing. And being flirted with by a stunningly handsome man? Not too shabby. But she’d be damned if she’d let him know that. “I haven’t made my mind up yet”
He laughed again, and something fluttered in her belly. Maceo took out a cigarette pack, offered her one, and when she declined, stuck one in his mouth and lit it. He blew out a lungful of smoke—away from her, she noticed with gratitude. He was studying her.
“Tell me, Orianthi—”
“Ori. Just call me Ori”
He inclined his head gracefully. “Tell me, Ori. What are you doing in my city?”
She hesitated only a beat. “I’m taking a vacation. A sabbatical”
“Are you working?”
“Not currently” Why did that always make her feel like a waste of space?
Maceo did not seem fazed. “I think sometimes we need to take stock and reevaluate. A sabbatical is good”
Ori blinked. What was his game? Agreeing with her about everything? She narro
wed her eyes at him. “Are you making fun of me?”
“Quite the contrary. I, myself, am a workaholic. I love the adrenaline rush, but I too have thought about taking an extended break”
Ori smiled at him. “And what would you do, Mr. Bartoli, on your break?”
He smiled. “I would dedicate myself to finding out the best way to fuck you, Ms. Roy. What you liked, what you didn’t. I’d use my hands and my tongue to pleasure you until you screamed my name loud enough for the whole of Venice to hear. Then, just when you thought you couldn’t take anymore, I would drive my cock deep inside you until you begged me to stop”
Ori, her breath caught in her chest, stared at him. What the hell? Was he serious? However angry she felt was belied by the fact she could feel herself getting wet as he spoke, wanting him to take her there, who cared who saw, just fuck me, please …
Instead, she pulled herself together. “I imagine that there are some women upon whom that honesty would work,’ she said rather primly, gathering her bag and scrabbling around for some cash to pay for her lunch. “I, however, am not one of them. Goodbye, Mr. Bartoli”
Leaving him grinning after her, she stalked off and caught a water taxi back to Lucia’s house. Of all the insufferable, egotistical assholes … She stomped into her room and flung her bag against the wall.
Yeah, but you can’t help thinking about him, can you?
“Shut up,” she told herself. God, she needed a distraction. She grabbed her phone and went to sit on the little balcony. She found the number of AJ’s facility and waited. After a moment, the receptionist answered, and soon AJ was saying hello. His voice sounded dull.
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