by Sloan Storm
“You look stunning,” he said, bringing his face close to mine.
Marco took my hand, and I readied myself for him to kiss it. He didn’t. Before I could react, he leaned in and instead kissed me once on each cheek, catching me completely off guard. The heat from his lips lingered on my face, sending another unexpected pulse through me. I squeezed my thighs together, pinching them tight in frustration when just then, his scent engulfed me.
It was a heady, thick aroma, a blend of tobacco, cocoa and vanilla. He smelled like European glamour and old world charm rolled into one smoldering temptation. After he kissed me the second time, on the opposite cheek, he lingered, moving his lips across my face and just to the outside of my ear. The hairs on the back of my neck prickled to attention. Beneath the ultra-fine material of his tuxedo, I felt the hardness of his lean, chiseled torso.
“I have something else to tell you, Dani,” he whispered.
The heat from his breath puffed against my earlobe, arousing me even more. I struggled to find a response.
“Y-you do?” I stammered, my voice cracking enough to be noticeable.
Marco reached for my waist and slipped his hand around it, pinching it a bit.
“Yes,” he began, pulling me towards him with a steady force. “If you so much as mention anything about the agreement, or money, while we are here together, you can forget about the deal.”
He finished speaking and leaned away from me. My eyes met his. He never blinked.
“Do you understand?” he asked.
Instinctively, I squeezed my clutch. Inside, the signature page of his agreement remained folded and safe, unlike me. I nodded.
“Yes, absolutely,” I replied, after what seemed like forever. “That was never my intention, Marco.”
No sooner had I spoken those words than Marco’s expression brightened.
“Good,” he replied, the tone in his voice matching the sudden softening in his face. “I need to relax and have fun tonight. There'll be plenty of time to discuss business.”
With that, Marco turned, bent his arm at the elbow and nodded, gesturing for me to walk with him. Over the next fifteen minutes or so he and I mingled, wandering between one group of beautiful people and the next. During this time, Marco smiled and joked with everyone we met. It was a side of him I hadn’t yet seen. He seemed so at ease, so content, and far different from the prickly persona he’d shown to me so far. At one point, we made our way to the bar and ordered cocktails.
“Well, what do you think?” Marco asked, passing a dirty martini to me.
I wrapped my fingers around the chilled glass. “What do you mean?”
Marco nodded and gestured towards the ballroom full of people.
“About the gala? Are you enjoying yourself?”
I swallowed my first sip. The liquor’s heat warmed me as it slid down my throat.
I licked my lips a fraction and smiled at him. “Yes, of course. Why do you ask?”
He shrugged. “No reason.”
With that, Marco lifted his cocktail to his lips and drank. I frowned at him. What did he mean by ‘no reason’? But before I could get another word out, I noticed Marco look beyond me. He nodded at someone approaching from my rear.
“When did you get here?” Marco began, placing his drink on the bar while still looking behind me.
“Who are you…?” the mystery voice boomed. “My fucking Mom?”
I turned. A gorgeous man with long, dirty blonde hair, steel blue eyes, and a build similar to Marco’s appeared in front of me. Marco passed by me and they hugged. Big smiles and mouthfuls of white flashed between the two men.
After their embrace, both of them turned to face me. The strange man nodded at me. He gestured towards me with his thumb and index finger, pointed in my direction like an imaginary gun.
“Who…” he began. “Is this?”
Marco looked at me and replied, “This is Dani Simms.”
I tightened my grip on my martini glass and smiled back at him while Marco continued, “Dani, this is my teammate, Dyson Vix.”
Where Marco carried himself with subtle hints of European style, Dyson seemed direct, brash, and without a doubt, American.
“What’s up, Dani?” Dyson began, extending his hand in my direction.
Still smiling, I returned his greeting.
“Nice to meet you, Dyson.”
Before I could get another word in, Marco spoke. “Where is Ava? I thought you said she was coming.”
Dyson looked away from me, focusing his attention on Marco.
“She was going to, but something came up last minute. It couldn’t be helped.”
With that, the two of them began having a discussion about team business. While they did, I turned my gaze to the gathering of people inside the ballroom. Maybe it was the alcohol, but soon I found myself relaxing and much more at ease in the situation than I expected to be. For just a few minutes I’d lost sight of why I was there.
It was nice to relax and enjoy myself for a change. I dragged my fingertips along the edge of my glass, savoring the temporary relief from the tension I’d felt since our initial meeting.
Who was the real Marco?
Truthfully, the ease with which he handled himself in our meeting and then in a crowded ballroom made me a bit envious. Being a social butterfly was never one of my strengths. I’d made the decision long ago to sacrifice things like that in order to achieve my goal. Yet, at times like this, I wondered if the trade-off was worth it.
I took another sip of my cocktail when another thought occurred to me. I couldn’t believe I hadn’t considered it until this moment.
Why didn’t he already have a date?
DANI
Later that evening, at the conclusion of the banquet and awards ceremony, I stood from my chair and felt the combined effects of jet lag and one too many cocktails.
“Whoa,” Marco said, getting to his feet in a flash. He placed his hand in my lower back. “Are you okay?”
I rocked in place a bit. Reaching up, I touched my fingertips to my forehead and gathered my wits. “Yeah, I-I think I just stood up too fast.”
Marco reached behind me and pulled my chair away. With his palm still flat against my lower back, he nodded.
“Okay Cinderella,” he began, gesturing towards the ballroom exit. “Let’s get you back to your carriage.”
I smiled at him, and after saying our goodbyes to the people seated at our table we made our way to the hotel’s exit and a waiting limousine. Once we reached it, I slid inside and scooted across the seat. Marco didn’t follow immediately but instead chatted with a few people curbside. I took the opportunity to remind myself what I was there to accomplish. Somehow, yet again, I’d lost track of my purpose.
I glanced down towards my clutch. Inside of it was the signature page - the ticket to my freedom. After his stern warning earlier, I decided it was probably too risky to bring it up right away. Instead, I had no choice but to wait and see how the evening unfolded.
I had no reason to think he wouldn’t try something. Still not sure of how I’d react, I drew my thighs inward, touching my knees together at the thought of it. Just then, I noticed Marco getting into the limousine. A subtle rush of wind carried his scent in my direction. I swallowed hard and turned my attention towards the window and the glittering lights of Monte Carlo in the distance, just beyond the back seat window.
We rode along in silence for a few minutes. I didn’t recognize the direction we headed. It seemed to be opposite the direction of where I was staying. I turned to look at him.
“Isn’t my hotel the other way?”
Marco’s hands rested comfortably on his thighs.
“Yes.”
That was all he said.
Confused, I frowned at him. “Where are we going?”
Marco leaned away from me a bit. The fine leather of the car seat squeaked beneath his shifting weight.
“Why? Don’t you trust me, Dani?”
I wa
sn’t sure how to respond. I didn’t not trust him. I looked at him in silence for another moment or two.
“Yes.” I replied, a few seconds later.
He smiled.
“Good.”
With my mouth dry from the cocktails, I decided to change the subject. Like Marco with Formula One, the public achievements of his father Antonio were well known. Starting from nothing, he’d managed to build a multi-billion-dollar shipping and real estate empire. In some ways, I viewed myself as a bit of a risk taker but nothing like what I'd witnessed with high flying entrepreneurs. And even though Marco didn’t run his own business, it was hard to deny the fact that the same blood that had driven his father pumped in his veins.
“Can I ask you a question?” I said, glancing in his direction.
Marco looked at me. Light and shadow moved across his face, a result of the streetlights shining through the backseat window. He didn’t speak but instead just nodded. Reaching up, I slid my fingers into my hair and tucked it behind my ear.
“Your father, Antonio…” I began, pausing and turning my upper body towards him. “What was he like?”
Marco didn’t respond. He arched an eyebrow in my direction and glared at me. I pulled away.
“What?”
“Why would you ask me a question like that?”
I felt the skin of my forehead tighten. A frown came to it.
“What do you mean? What’s wrong with that question?”
He shrugged, breaking his gaze on me and turning his attention out the window.
“It seems a bit disingenuous, Dani.”
“How is it disingenuous?”
His attitude was beginning to rub me the wrong way. He exhaled, still not looking towards me.
“Let’s not pretend, Dani.”
“Marco… I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
He turned and looked at me again.
“You and I both want something from each other. If you want to learn anything about my father, most of his life is a matter of public record. I am enjoying your company, but the subject of my father is not one I’m going to discuss with you.”
And just like that, the same aloof man I’d met aboard the yacht returned. Frankly, after the enjoyable evening we had together, he was quickly finding a way to ruin it. Annoying though it was, I couldn’t afford to risk losing the chance that he’d sign the deal. I cleared my throat and swallowed my frustration.
“I’m sorry, Marco. I didn’t mean anything by it.”
“Dani,” he began, his eyes now locked on me. “Put yourself in my situation. Ever since my father fell ill last year, investment banks have been circling like vultures. I know that you’re here to do a job, so let’s just leave it at that.”
I looked away from him and glanced down towards my clutch. I couldn’t explain it, but all of a sudden I felt bad for even bringing the agreement with me. I wrapped my fingers around the top of the bag and squeezed the clutch before looking back at him once more.
“I shouldn’t have said anything.”
He nodded and looked away from me, staring out the window. Silence fell between us again. A few minutes passed when I noticed Marco checking the time on his watch.
“We’re nearly there.”
I swiveled my head, taking in the unfamiliar surroundings.
Nearly where?
DANI
Marco nodded, pointing out the window towards a building at the crest of the hill ahead.
“My place.”
I swallowed. His place?
A minute or so later the limousine pulled up to the front of the building. After getting out and entering Marco’s building, we took the elevator up to the top floor and his penthouse. He opened the door and stepped to one side, gesturing for me to enter. I smiled at him and walked inside.
To my left, I noticed a series of floor-to-ceiling windows, at least ten feet high. Moving my eyes from left to right, I swiveled my head, taking in the view of the sparkling lights of Monte Carlo far below. Tasteful contemporary designs and straight lines mixed with hues of white, gray and black filled my gaze. The open concept and sleek lighting seemed consistent with someone who drove more than two hundred miles an hour for a living.
I continued to turn my head, nearly covering the entire length of the windows when something unexpected caught my attention. I stopped dead, my vision frozen with what I saw. Not more than twenty feet in front of me, I noticed a woman, seated in the middle of an expansive black suede couch. A striking brunette, she had her hair pulled high. Pricey looking earrings dangled like icicles, matching the wintry expression on her face.
From behind, I heard the door to the penthouse close and then, nothing. It was the calm before the storm.
Without a word, she stood and began to walk in my direction. The woman made long strides. Her green dress, like the kind you might wear to an awards gala, fit like a glove and sparkled, shimmering in the ambient lighting. Her heels click clacked like a metronome, riveting my attention.
And then she stopped, only a few feet away, glaring at me.
“What are you doing here?” I heard Marco say.
Immediately after, he appeared in my peripheral vision. The woman fixed her eyes on me for another moment or so until at last, she stopped, and instead turned her focus to Marco.
“What am I doing here?” The woman began, crossing her arms and glaring at him. Her voice carried the hint of a French accent. “Can you see how I’m dressed? What do you think I’m doing here, Marco?”
I swallowed hard and looked away. My skin crawled with goosebumps and not the good kind. All I wanted to do was leave, just turn and get the hell out of there. Mercifully, Marco stepped between us. For whatever reason, she hadn’t yet said anything to me. Judging by her increasing anger, I figured it was just a matter of time.
“You need to leave,” Marco said. “Now.”
I peeked around him, hoping my eyes wouldn’t catch hers.
“No, Marco, I’m not going anywhere,” she began, keeping her gaze fixed on him. “I want to know why you stood me up for the gala.”
What?
Marco casually slid his hands in the pockets of his pants, waiting a few seconds before responding.
“By my count, Serena,” he said, pausing for emphasis. “This is the sixth time I’ve had to tell you this. We aren’t together anymore.”
Girlfriend?
It was the only thing that made sense. I’d never seen any mention of him being married. While I thought about it, I noticed him turn in my direction.
With a subtle nod of his chin, he continued, “As for tonight, I found someone else to take instead. Someone I knew I’d have a good time with.”
Oh no. No, no, no…
The absolute last thing I needed right now was to get in the middle of whatever was going on between them. I forced a hard swallow down my throat, and before either of them could speak, I jumped in to fill the silence.
“I’m sorry. I’m going to go.”
Right away, I tried to turn and walk towards the door. Before I got a single step in, Marco curled the fingers of his hand around my upper arm.
“No, Dani. Stay. Serena was just leaving.”
My eyes shot towards her. She still hadn’t said a word to me. If the situation were reversed, I would’ve had no problem telling another woman exactly what was on my mind. But Serena didn't seem threatened or the slightest bit angry with me. In fact, when I looked at her, just the opposite seemed to be the case. Far from an expression of rage, Serena’s face held a look of profound sadness.
“This man,” she began, lifting her hand to her mouth and struggling to get the words out. “He is incapable of true love. It is not in his nature.”
Chills ran down my arms. Although he probably had no idea this woman would be here waiting for us, what did it say about him? On the other hand, I didn’t know what kind of person Serena was either. For all I knew, she could be the one lying. The whole thing baffled me.
&
nbsp; For his part, Marco seemed unfazed by her behavior. He merely cleared his throat and walked around me towards the entrance of his penthouse. I wanted to turn and look but found myself unable to do so. This was probably one of the most awkward situations I’d ever experienced.
“For the last time, you need to go now, Serena,” Marco said.
The tone of his voice carried firmness but not anger. No sooner had he said those words than Serena’s face began to wrinkle with ugliness. Almost on cue, tears started to flow, but she made no effort to walk towards Marco. Serena smeared away the sudden streaks of sadness from her face. After a few sniffles, she spoke.
“Y-You’re going to wind up just like your father, Marco. Just like your father…”
I swallowed hard at her words and swiveled my head to catch Marco’s reaction. His expression darkened. Based on the conversation we just had in the car, I expected more anger from him at any mention of Antonio Rhys. Marco lowered his eyes and glared at Serena.
“I’ve been polite to you, but you’re an uninvited guest – and it's time for you to leave. Dani and I have a business matter to discuss.”
Serena sniffled again and flung her hair away from her face. A defiant grimace came to her lips.
“You know I’m right, Marco. Don’t you? The truth hurts, doesn’t it?”
No sooner had she spoken those words than Marco started to walk at a rapid pace towards her. Serena backed away. Her expression changed from anger to fear. Marco nearly bumped into me on his way by. I stepped aside at the last instant, swiveled my head, and held my breath in my throat.
Serena shrieked. “No Marco! Don’t hurt me!”
Hurt her?
Wordless, Marco snatched her by the upper arm and turned in the direction of the front door again. For each determined step he took, she did everything in her power to resist him, dragging her feet and trying to do anything she could to slow him down.
A moment later, they reached the door and Serena cried out, “Please! Marco, I love you! Please don’t do this!”
The two of them jostled and struggled in the doorway, until at last, Marco pushed her into the hallway and slammed the door in her face. I felt my pulse thump in my throat.
