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Luca stands across the room. Flocks of powerful men are engaging in conversation with him, and their wives and escorts are trying to catch his eye. I keep my breath steady just like I’ve been doing since the moment he walked in. He doesn’t know who I am. There’s no way he knew it was me last night; I’m always careful in my disguise.
His gaze meets mine, and my heart falters.
Does he know?
His stare cuts through me, and it’s as if he’s looking into my very soul. It’s downright uncomfortable. So, I do what most women in this room would when graced by his attention. I offer a flirtatious, flattered smile. The moment I do, he looks away with a hint of disgust. Thank goodness.
“Earth to Ara?” Lily waves a hand in front of my face. She follows my gaze and smirks. “Oh, in that case, don’t let me interrupt.”
“It’s not like that,” I dismiss the action quickly while chancing another glance. Camille Blanchet is now conversing with him. I’m sure they’d be well-suited, as long as she never finds out about his dirty little secret and business.
“Really, because I’m pretty sure in the last six months of knowing you, I haven’t seen you once ogle someone.”
“I’m not ogling him.”
“Eye-fucking? Better?”
She laughs at my cutting glare. It’s what I like most about Lily. She isn’t discouraged by my…directness. The polarity of our personalities is rather intriguing. She’s bright and outgoing. Whereas I’m reserved and abrasive.
Most don’t want to share the same space as me, which is how I prefer it because the feeling is often mutual. I don’t have time for useless conversations and relationships.
“Are we still on for tomorrow morning? Breakfast with the girls?”
I offer a small, agreeable smile. Friendship isn’t something I need. Especially considering how much time my other hobby takes up. Something no one else knows, of course. But I know I need to integrate into the city. If I’m too much of a lone wolf, I’ll stand out. I continuously remind myself the life I created here is a façade; it helps avoid becoming attached to anything or anyone. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
I notice Luca leave the room and feel the sweet relief ripple through me. Tension slowly eases from my body and I hate how much standing in the same room with him, had this effect on me. Last night rattled me. I’ve never been caught. Perhaps playing with fire—with the mafia boss—is idiocy. I know it is. But it’s the only way I can get my answers.
I wonder how many in this room know the depths of his association with the mafia. His father was more notorious and known for his violence. Particularly because he didn’t hide it. Luca is different, no less violent but more careful about his public image in an attempt to manage his many legal businesses.
I’ve done nothing but research him for the past six months.
Luca Armani is a man I know inside and out—even simply watching him from afar.
4
ARA
The doorman, Gregory, opens the cab door for me. I politely thank him, which is the extent of our conversation as always, and I peer up at my apartment building. Only the wealthy can afford this place. It’s mostly businessmen and women and a few celebrities. I chose this building specifically for its security—and because most people expect Alexander Barone’s daughter to have similar lavish tastes.
Between last night, a full day at the office, and tonight’s event, the week is already catching up to me. I rest the back of my head against the wall in the elevator and close my eyes momentarily until I reach level twenty-three, the second-to-last floor.
As soon as I close my eyes, it’s the same thing. A harsh set of blue eyes. Sharp jaw and cheekbones. Lines marring his forehead as he assesses me. The gun to my head. I let out a breath at the same time the doors open. Death isn’t something I fear. I’ve already met and beat it once. I shake off the moment as best as I can.
I walk out of the elevator and down the hallway. There are only four apartments on this floor, and my three-bedroom, two-bathroom apartment is the farthest away from the elevator. I swipe my gold key card, expelling a tired sigh as I throw my bag onto the counter.
“Lights on,” I instruct. The moment my voice is recognized, they turn on. I take out the tie binding my hair. It loosens into strands around my face, relieving my scalp. I pause expectantly. “Tuna?” I call out. The black-and-white stray cat I rescued out of a cardboard box four months ago isn’t anywhere to be seen. My eyebrows furrow. Goosebumps erupt over my skin when I notice it, the subtle chill in the air. The instinctual feeling something is amiss.
I look around my apartment. The eight-seater wooden table to my left. The island and kitchen to my right. My entertainment area with floor to ceiling windows is only a few steps away. But it feels different.
Silently, I walk around to my top drawer in the kitchen and pull out a knife. My bedroom is down the hall on the right. I peer into it but can’t see anyone. Quietly, I take steps toward the two rooms on the left. One of the rooms is an office. The door is always open, and when I peer in…no one and nothing. Not even Tuna.
My heart speeds up; there’s only one other room in this apartment. One no one else has access to but me. I grind my teeth as I realize the door is ever so slightly ajar. A cold foreboding chill runs down my spine. No, this room is heavily secure with a passcode and pin. Fuck. My grip tightens on the knife.
There’s no way to inconspicuously step inside, but I do my best to steady my breathing.
“It’s rather creepy just standing at the door, wouldn’t you say?” the voice calls out to me, and I feel the blood drain from my face. I know that voice. I’m familiar with the lethal arrogance.
I creak the door open as my gaze swallows the room. Photos are pinned to the wall everywhere. Some of his brother. His bodyguards. Photos of his apartment and the family mansion. Business dealings. Articles. Dating history, which was minimal. But mostly him. My greatest lead.
