Lady Night

Chapter eleven

Gio parked the car outside of the restaurant while I was still contemplating how I was going to navigate this situation. He said something, but I was too distracted by my own thoughts that I couldn't understand what he said. My hands went to undo my seatbelt, but froze instantly as his hand covered mine.

The contact was only for a second, barely even a grazing of his fingertips on the back of my hand, but it was enough to shock me into stillness. But just as quick as the touch happened he was out of the car and crossing onto my side.

I gaped a little as he opened the door for me.

And then a little more as his hand moved across my thigh to unbuckle the seatbelt for me. That intoxicating scent dangled closely in front of me.

Close enough that I could see the dark stubble that lingered on his hardened jawline. Close enough that I could watch the smallest twitch of his lips as he noticed my shock.

And then it was gone and he was extending his hand to help me out of the car.

"Thanks," I said, taking it because it seemed impolite to reject the offer.

People on the street turned to watch us as Gio gave his keys to the valet at the front of the restaurant. With a car that nice and a man that, well, had the sort of imposing presence that he did, we were bound to draw attention to ourselves. My skin itched with every pair of eyes I felt.

The attention didn't make me nervous necessarily. After all, one of my jobs required me to have a certain amount of attention.

However, the other jobs— the ones I couldn't write on a resume- required a degree of anonymity.

"I'l take my leave of you, Miss Night." Gio turned back to me after handing the valet a wad of cash. The pimply kid looked ecstatic as he rushed to the driver's side of the car.

"You're leaving?"

He glanced at his watch. "I have to take the back entrance for my meeting."

Even though his absence would make this evening a lot less awkward, I felt a strange sort of dip in my stomach. I didn't quite have a word for it yet.

"What exactly are you investing in?"

I glanced at the bar that we stood outside. There was nothing overtly special about it. In fact, the Strip was full of bars that looked just like this one and they were all in primo locations. This was far from where the tourists went regularly so there was no way it had as much business as those bars.

Something about my question made Gio smile.

A little mischievously. He looked younger with that smile on his face- a little less imposing.

"I really should be getting to my meeting," he said, walking backward toward the side of the building, "I'll tell you later tonight."

I rolled my eyes, starting to nod my agreement when my brain finally processed what he said.

"Tonight?" I called out to him, "what the hell is tonight?"

He said nothing, just grinned, turned and disappeared around the building. What a pain in the ass.

Disregarding his last statement as another ploy to make me unsteady, I went inside to search for my friends.

The two of them were sitting in the back corner of the bar with two cocktails in front of them.

They both stood when they saw me walk in, both with wide smiles and open arms.

Oliver was still built like a wrestler, only a few inches taller than me but packed with pure muscle. Ryan, however, was still just as tall but arms that used to be lanky now resembled tree trunks. His sandy hair was longer too, curling up around his ears and his blue eyes still sparkled when he smiled.

"Took you long enough," Oliver teased as all three of us took our seats. They waved the waitress over and I ordered a martini.

I rolled my eyes. "Well, good things come to those who wait... so here I am."

Both of them groaned fondly at me which made me smile even wider. Could you even call yourself friends if you didn't annoy them? Not for me.

"Talk to us about life," Ryan urged, "Olly and I have to live vicariously through you."

I chuckled. "What? Corporate America isn't satisfying your sense of adventure?"

Ryan sighed. God, he really was a man now.

When I was fifteen, Ryan Oxford was the boy I would think about before I went to sleep.

Partially because he was fun to look at. Partially because he and Oliver saved me.

Well, before Marafi.

Our conversation flowed easily between the three of us. We never broached the topics of Marafi or the Russo's. They both knew the world I lived in, they were there when I had to enter it.

Still, I filled them in on the latest celebrities I'd seen at the clubs and who they were there with.

Like the gossips they were, they ate it up.

I guess corporate America really didn't have that much excitement from the way they were hanging on my every word. We talked a lot about Oliver's wife and soon-to-be daughter.

The kid who taught me how to lift wallets was going to be a dad. Terrifying.

He'd gotten married right after high school, and nobody thought it would work. Including me.

Apparently, we were all wrong.

"You're at a new club now, right?" Ryan asked, downing his second whiskey. "What's it called, Enema?"

Oliver snorted so suddenly his drink almost came out of his nose and I almost choked on my own martini with my laughter.

"God, no. That's a horrible name for a club," I laughed. "It's Elysium. The one-"

"s**t," Olly breathed, "the Russo's own that one."

I nodded, swallowing. "The very same."

"How the hell did you get roped into doing that?" Ryan asked, lowering his voice even though the noise from the restaurant clearly drowned out his question.

His question was curiously phrased, and if anyone else asked it I would wonder what they meant. But he had guessed at what I was doing, why I was there. They both knew the debt I owed to Marafi. That I belonged to him.

Working at a club owned by his rivals could only mean one thing.

"No idea what you mean," I said, motioning the waitress for a fourth martini.

The drink was starting to go to my head, enough so that my cheeks felt warm and my fingers felt a little numb. But not enough that I would go admitting to why I was working at Elysium. I did still value my life. Marafi would kill me if I talked and the Russo's would kill me for spying.

Even if I hadn't found anything useful yet.

The waitress brought the fourth martini over and my friends quickly realized that I was in desperate need of a new topic of conversation.

They went on discussing how Ryan should approach the pretty girl who was leaning over the bar. My stomach plummeted, watching my high school crush drool over another woman.

Old habits die hard, I guess. Jealousy lasts decades apparently.

That was how I finished the fourth martini and I instantly regretted it. Liquor only fuels negative emotions and, lately, those seemed to be the only ones I had around.

"Holy s**t. Is that-"

"Oh man." Ryan glanced at me. "Bina, don't freak out but-"

I didn't even have to turn around to know why they were freaking out. Or why Ryan was suddenly capable of shifting his attention away from other women to finally look at me. In fact, when I heard him clear his throat I was barely even surprised.

"Miss Night," his greeting was deep and sounded polite enough but there was something else in his tone. Gio stood behind my chair and put his hand on my bare back. My skin rose with the contact. "And you both are?"

The two of my friends scrambled to their feet, both of them holding their hands out to shake Gio's. The man in question-my boss- removed the hand from my back to shake theirs, but his other hand went to my shoulder. His fingers skimming my collar bone.

The touch seemed very pointed to both me and my friends— neither of the two were able to look away from where he touched me. I, however, felt it just as strongly as I felt the alcohol in my veins. In fact, I felt the iciness of his touch in every single one of my veins.

"Pleasure to meet you both," Gio said in a voice that didn't quite sound like he meant it. His fingers moved from my shoulder to under my chin to lift my gaze to his. "Ready to go, leoncina?"

Such warm golden eyes, like honey, met my own gaze and I could do nothing but nod. Four drinks in and I considered myself lucky that my limbs still worked.

My friends and I rose from the table so I could hug them goodbye. Those golden eyes burned into my shoulder as we said our goodbyes.

This time when we walked out of the bar, Gio's hand was on my lower back. Touching me.

The night air was a nice change to the heat that I felt coursing through every inch of my body. Gio gave his card to the valet who went to bring his car around.

"s**t!" I exclaimed, turning back toward the bar.

"I forgot to pay my bill."

Gio arched a brow. "No need. It's taken care of."

"You paid my bill?" I asked.

"In a manner of speaking."

Somehow, his answer left me with more questions. But I was cut off from asking them as the valet brought the car around. Gio tipped the man, and the valet attempted to go to the passenger side to open the door but Gio stopped him. Before doing it himself.

He held his hand out for me and I took it. There was no hesitation this time. Not with four martinis telling me how good Gio's tanned skin looked against his dark shirt.

"So..." I began again once he started driving.

"Did you pay my bill or did we just drink and dash?"

Gio rolled his eyes. "I own the bar."

"Oh."

"You and your friends were drinking free the whole night."

"Oh."

In that case, I should've ordered nicer gin.

"Oh, indeed, Miss Night." He glanced sidelong at me. "Interesting friends you have."

"We've been friends since I was a kid," I said by way of explanation. Though, I wasn't sure why I felt like an explanation was necessary.

"Interesting," was his curt reply.

"What's interesting?"

"When you said 'friends' before those were not the people I had in mind."

"Because they're men?"

"No. Because they're dangerous. They're criminals."

My heart seemed to stop in my chest. How did he know that? How could he possibly know that?

He revealed before that he knew some of my history, but I dismissed it. Ignored it.

Unfortunately, alcohol made it impossible for me to ignore anything.

"That's ironic coming from you." I thought for a moment. "Actually, a better word would be hypocritical."

Gio's jaw clenched, the only sign of his irritation. Maybe one day he would tell me how he knew about my past or how he knew about Oliver and Ryan. Right now, however, I was irritated with the judgment I heard in his tone.

A judgment he was not allowed to make.

"Really?" His tone was deathly calm. Even.

"What makes you say that?"

Alcohol, mostly.

"You know why," I ground out. "Neither of them have committed a crime in the last decade. Can you say the same? How did you pay for that bar we just left? With what money?"

His silence was deafening. The car picked up speed, zooming in and out of lanes as he navigated us around the city. I gripped the arm rest, my heart pounding in my ears and my knees pressed tightly together.

"I wonder why it is," he mused aloud finally,

"that you think you can speak to me that way with no repercussions."

Though the words held a threat, the voice that spoke them sounded like a promise. Not one that filled me with fear, either.

"I've known dangerous men," I said a lot more confidently than I felt. "You're all the same."

You all fall for the same tricks. The same lies.

Gio's face finally flickered alive with a moment of emotion. Anger? Irritation? Something curious.

"I'll thank you not to mention your knowledge of other men to me."

I opened my mouth to respond but shut it suddenly.

That's what it was. In his voice at the restaurant.

On his expression just now. Jealousy.

Oh, I was doing my job well it seems.

We arrived back at the resort in record time due to the speed he engaged during the ride. He pulled up to the curb and strode out of the car to open my door again for me.

Once my hand was in his, however, he used the other to push my hips back against the door.

The hand that held mine pinned my wrist against the side of the car as his body held mine in place against the door.

I was sluggish to react, whether because of the liquor or because of the way my body seemed to answer to his I didn't know. Gio's hand slid from my hip to grip my jaw and turn my face to the side. His scent filled my lungs, dark spice and mint invading every breath I took.

The soft caress of his lips against my throat came once. Then again. Then again, higher by my ear. My one free hand curled in his shirt as his lips found my ear.

"My brother is watching," he whispered and my skin turned to ice.