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“What do you think, Dmitri?” Lola Regal asks. She’s only recently celebrated her twenty-second birthday, and it’s one of her father’s event that we’re here celebrating. Three of her friends are with her, ogling me as they stand behind her as she boldly approaches me.
“I think it’s a spectacular performance, as expected of your father.” I offer them a smile and two of them blush and look away. “And it’s such a fortunate charity.”
Her smile grows wider and I can see the excitement fill her gaze. “Of course. We love helping charities. So anyway, my friends and I were going to have our own little get-together after this, and we’d love it if you could join us.”
I hide any bored expression that might surface. If these girls knew what my tastes were in a sexual partner, they’d run home to their daddy’s scared and never approach me again.
Dark, long hair grabs my attention, and I’m immediately drawn toward the woman it belongs to. “If you’ll excuse me.”
“Wait!” Lola screams out and winces as others berate her openly for speaking out of place.
Wearing a low-cut dress at the back, Arabella Barone’s dark hair falls around her delicate features. It’d been a week or so since I last spoke to her and I was curious as to how she was going with her current mission.
To the average eye here, we both seemed like respectable adults. But what lurks behind the mask is the fact that we’re both schemers with a camaraderie for revenge.
Ara first drew my attention a little less than a year ago when she hacked into one of my databases. Unfortunately for her, my hacker, Claus, is slightly better and was able to track her down.
I’ve since aided her in her revenge against the Armani household because it benefits me. In the process, she’d caught Luca’s attention, the current head of the Armani household, and she didn’t seem to be able to shake him—another asshole who pretends to be clean-cut in similar rooms and events such as these.
I smile at and greet a few members as I walk toward the same bar that Ara’s heading toward.
Arabella notices me and offers a polite smile that is generally expected of all of us, but I can tell she’s not too pleased I’m approaching her directly. We try to keep our association to a minimum and a secret.
“It’s so rare to see you brooding in a corner like this,” Ara says as she waits at the bar with her friend Lily, who’s an unlikely match for Ara, especially if Lily knew Ara’s true scheming nature behind the mask. But who am I to judge?
“You look very handsome this evening, Mr. Volkov,” her friend Lily says, a beautiful blonde whom Ara’s often seen with at these events. The two couldn’t be more opposite in ways because Lily oozed innocence.
“You both look beautiful tonight. Although, I don’t want to be caught saying that too loudly. I hear you’ve caught the eye of a very determined bachelor.” I throw at Ara. I’m regarding Luca Armani and checking in to see if she’s still on ‘safe’ terms with him. The man’s a brute, and I worry that sometimes she’s in too deep or over her head dealing with the head of the Italian mafia.
Lily giggles. “Oh my goodness, he’s besotted with her.”
Ara’s gaze narrows. “Well, I’m not besotted,” she says, pointing her nose in the air. “And if we’re talking about infatuation, shall I remind a certain someone about falling for a man they haven’t even spoken to yet.”
A deep shade of red spread over Lily’s cheeks. “Shut up!” she says, trying to hide her embarrassed smile. “I just thought he was cute, that’s all. It doesn’t mean anything.” She’d recently taken a liking to Luca’s head of security and personal bodyguard, Lorenzo. Not that anyone would dare tell the innocent girl that they are the Italian mafia, not simply associated like some rumors. I doubt she’d be so doe-eyed if she knew what his body count was. And I don’t mean in the way of sexual partners.
Ara looks toward the entrance and her body stiffens. When I follow her gaze, it comes as no surprise that Luca Armani has made his appearance. Speak of the devil and he shall appear.
I go to look away, but a flash of red grabs my attention, entering behind Luca. My jaw tightens as I watch the familiar woman enter, her nose held high, expression cold with an arm wrapped around the elbow of another man. I’m mesmerized by the tight blonde curls and red lipstick that’s bold against her pale skin. It’s a contrast to the natural colors she used to wear in college. The tight red dress hits the floor, ever so slightly displaying red heels.
I blink twice; it can’t be… her. Layla and Elanee were identical in many ways, but I could always tell them apart. Especially in the way they held themselves. And I always gravitated toward her for an entirely different reason. But Elanee was still in Russia, wasn’t she?
A tic in my jaw pulses as I briefly glance at the man she’s standing with. I don’t even remember his name because he’s so fucking irrelevant. What was it… Connor something?
Luca blocks my vision of her, bringing me back to reality. Elanee Lane. In the flesh. And with who? Some pinprick, no-name dickhead?
“If you want Luca Armani that bad, we can trade places?” Ara says under her breath teasingly, but I’m in too much of a hurry to bite back a reply. I push through the crowd with every intent to corner Elanee Lane.
Why the fuck is she back in New York?
She had been the one woman I let slip through my fingers.
Because she had meant something.
And it is also the reason why I’d sworn not to touch her.
All of these feelings resurface with a reminder of the last time I saw her. When we were in college, she threw a drink in my face the night before graduation, despising my existence.
I was okay with it then and I’m okay with it now.
