CHAPTER FIVE
1547 Words
MAKING HER MINE
SALVATORE
As I watch her walk away, she leaves a very distinct scent behind, one that clings to the air like it has no intention of fading and hits me harder than anything else in the room, sharper than the music, more intoxicating than the alcohol, more commanding than the chaos of bodies moving under dim lights and it stays with me.
Even as she disappears into the hallway, swallowed by shadows and distance, that scent lingers, soft, feminine, dangerous all mine.
I don’t move immediately, I just stand there, my eyes fixed on the empty space she occupied seconds ago, my mind trying to catch up with what just happened. I’ve seen countless women walk through this club, I’ve owned this places like this long enough to know every type, bold, shy, desperate, ambitious but none of them have ever left something behind that felt like… this.
A mark.
A claim and yet, somehow, it feels like she marked me first ?y jaw tightens, I should have stopped her.
I should have reached out, grabbed her wrist, pulled that hood off her face, forced her to look at me, I should have seen her, like really seen her beyond the mask, beyond the stage persona she hid behind. The way she moved out there, it wasn’t just performance, it was instinct, control, fire wrapped in silk and I let her walk away.
A low curse slips past my lips and I turn sharply, my eyes scanning the hallway she disappeared into, and just as I’m about to follow, one of the guards steps out from the side corridor, the same one who escorted her out.
Good.
“Hey,” I call, my voice cutting through the noise like a blade.
He stops instantly, straightening as soon as he recognizes me. “Don.”
I walk toward him slowly, deliberately, each step heavy with purpose, his posture stiffens the closer I get, and I can already see the flicker of unease in his eyes. Good, he should be uneasy.
“Who was she?” I ask, my tone calm but edged with something far more dangerous.
He hesitates, it’s brief, barely noticeable but I catch it.
My gaze hardens.
“The woman you just walked out,” I continue, stepping closer until there’s barely any space between us. “The one from the stage, hood, mask. Who is she?”
“I—uh…” He clears his throat, shifting his weight slightly. “She’s new, Don.”
“That doesn’t answer my question.”
“Yes, Don.”
Silence stretches for a moment and the music from the main floor pulses faintly through the walls, but here, in this narrow corridor, it feels distant and irrelevant cause ll that matters is his answer.
“What’s her name?” I ask again, slower this time.
He exhales. “Olivia.”
The name settles in my mind immediately, repeating itself like it belongs there.
Olivia, it fits too well.
“Olivia,” I echo quietly, tasting the name. “Is that what she told you, or is that what’s on record?”
“That’s the name she gave when she started,” he replies quickly, as if eager to get it right this time. “We don’t have much else yet, she hasn’t been here long.”
“How long?”
“A few days, Don, maybe a week coupled with the days for training they took.”
A week and I’m only just noticing her now?
Unacceptable.
“Who brought her in?” I ask.
“One of the recruiters,” he says. “I can find out which one if you want.”
“I don’t want ‘if you want,’” I snap, my voice dropping dangerously low. “I want everything.”
“Yes, Don.”
I study his face for a moment longer, searching for any sign that he’s holding back and when I find none, I step away, adjusting the cuff of my sleeve as if the conversation is already over but it isn’t.
“Where did you take her?” I ask without looking at him.
“To the back exit,” he replies. “Like she requested.”
Now that makes me pause.
I turn back slowly. “She requested it?”
“Yes, Don, said she didn’t want to go through the front.”
Interesting.
Very interesting.
Most of the women here crave attention, they walk out the front like they’re stepping onto another stage, soaking in every glance, every whisper, every hungry stare but not her.
She avoided it, she hid which means she has something to protect or something to lose.
“Did she say anything else?” I ask.
“No, Don, just thanked me and left.”
I nod once, dismissing him with a slight flick of my hand. “Go.”
He doesn’t need to be told twice and within seconds, he’s gone, disappearing back into the club, leaving me alone with my thoughts and that scent that still hasn’t faded.
Olivia, the name echoes again, stronger this time and a slow smile pulls at the corner of my lips, but there’s nothing warm about it, nothing kind, this isn’t curiosity, this is something else entirely, something dangerous.
I turn and head toward the exit, my mind already working, already planning and by the time I step outside, the night air hits me, cool and sharp, but it does nothing to dull the intensity building inside me.
If anything, it makes it worse, my car is waiting, exactly where it should be and the driver steps out the moment he sees me, opening the door without a word.
I slide into the back seat, the leather cool beneath me, and as the door shuts, I inhale deeply and there it is again.
Her scent.
Faint now, but still present lingering on my clothes, in my senses, in my mind, I lean back, closing my eyes briefly.
I would have walked right past the front door tonight and missed her entirely, missed this and her and the thought alone irritates me.
Even though we didn’t speak, didn’t exchange a single real word something has already been set in motion, she doesn’t know it yet but she will soon
My eyes open slowly, dark and certain, she is mine.
The phone is already in my hand before I fully register reaching for it, I scroll through my contacts without hesitation and press dial, it rings once.
Twice.
Then—
“To what do I owe this consistent calling, Don?” Ivanov’s voice comes through, laced with sarcasm but underscored with the respect he knows better than to forget.
“I need information about someone from the club,” I say immediately, not bothering with pleasantries.
There’s a brief pause on the other end, and I can almost picture the shift in his expression and the moment he realizes this isn’t one of my casual inquiries.
“Alright,” he says, his tone sharpening. “Who am I looking into?”
“Confirmed from the guards earlier that her name is Olivia,” I reply. “Look into that and get back to me before the end of today.”
Another pause but longer this time.
“Just Olivia?” he asks. “No last name, no background, no description?”
“You’ll figure it out,” I say coldly.
A quiet chuckle escapes him. “You always have so much faith in me.”
“I have expectations,” I correct. “Don’t mistake the two.”
“Fair enough,” he mutters. “Anything specific I should be digging for?”
“Everything,” I say without hesitation. “Where she came from, who brought her in and why she’s here. I want her history, her connections, her secrets, everything.”
“And if there’s nothing to find?”
I smile faintly, though he can’t see it.
“There’s always something,” I say.
He hums thoughtfully. “You sound interested.”
“I am.”
“That’s new.”
“Ivanov.”
“Yes, Don.”
“End of today.”
The line goes dead, I lower the phone slowly, my grip tightening just slightly before I relax again. Outside, the city moves as it always does, loud, restless, alive but inside this car, everything feels still.
Controlled
My mind drifts back to her, her movements on stage, the way her body responded to something unseen, something instinctive, the way she carried herself even when she tried to disappear and that scent…
Damn it.
I exhale slowly, running a hand over my jaw, I don’t know how long I’ll have to wait for Ivanov to come back with something useful but I do know one thing, I will find her and when I do…
There will be no walking away, no disappearing into shadows or hiding behind masks because whatever game she thinks she’s playing and whatever secrets she’s trying to keep they won’t matter.
Not anymore.
I shift slightly in my seat, my gaze fixed ahead as the car begins to move, I don’t chase, don’t wait all I do is take and soon enough
I will make her mine.
- Writer
