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“Okay. Why not? The top floor of Sindicate Towers has Club Sin. It’s small and private. Very exclusive.”
I clap my hands and do a little wiggle in my seat. My excitementdoesn’t wane when he adds, “But no drinking.”
I hold out my finger, and we pinky swear. The light and heat roars into a flame that gives off more warmth than the fireplace. Gio pulls his hand back with another muttered, “Theé mou.”
Gio
The red dress laps around Jeniah’s thick thighs, a possessive lover clinging to her body. My mouth waters. She spins around and stuns from every angle. An enchantress demanding my soul. My throat tightens, and I swallow hard, my greedy eyes devouring her.
The fabric taunts me, highlighting the valley between her breasts and the arc of her waist. She’s a walking wet dream. I am a fucking idiot to let her leave.
“You sure this is okay?” Jeniah asks, biting her lip. “I mean, I know it’s only a club, but still—”
“You look fucking perfect,” I grit out, my voice rougher than I intended. “Absolutely beautiful.”
Atlas coughs from the doorway. He’s been riding my ass all evening about letting Jeniah go to the club without me, and now here she is, looking like an angel and preparing to step into the devil’s den.
“You ready, sweetheart?” Atlas asks, holding his arm for Jeniah. I glare at him, my muscles tensing when she takes it. His grinwidens, daring me to say something. I remind myself that we’re family.
“Gio, are you sure you don’t want to come with us?” Jeniah asks. Her wide doe eyes entice me.
My teeth grind together, but I shake my head. “Go have fun, okay? Enjoy yourself. Atlas will keep an eye on you and remember what I said about following his orders if there’s any trouble.”
“Yeah, yeah, I know,” she says, eyes rolling. “Run, duck, hide. Yadda, yadda, blah, blah.”
I ignore her and raise my brow at Atlas. I’ll hold him personally responsible if anything happens to her. He reads the room and stops smirking. “She’ll be fine, Gio. Don’t you worry. I’ll watch over her like she’s a newborn.”
I collapse onto the couch, my head in my hands, my mind reeling when they leave. Why the fuck am letting her go without me? Oh yeah, because I’m a jealous bastard. And if I see another man with her, I might bring the fucking walls down. Not that I care about razing the club. But I don’t want Jeniah to see that side of me. The side that wanted to chop off the hand of my cousin for touching her.
Jeniah wants her freedom—deserves it. I’m fighting to give it to her. Struggling not to put her back in a cage, safe and sound, under my protection, where she belongs.
One hour. I last one hour.
Sixty minutes of pure fucking torture before I’m off the couch and leaving the penthouse behind. I leave the elevator’s quietcontainment and walk down the dimly lit hall leading to the Club Sin. Obsidian marble floors stretch out like a black river. The bass seeps through the walls, a deep pulse vibrating beneath my shoes. The kind of pulse that controls the whole damn place. You can’t escape it once you’re inside. The fucking rhythm owns everyone in the room. Seduces them.
Sounds of intoxicated laughter and the sultry chatter greet me. The staff recognizes me and waves me in without question. When I step inside, the thick scent hits me: alcohol, sweat, expensive perfume, and that underlying musk of want. Desperate electricity threads through the crowd, seeping into the swirling mix of bodies, lights, and smoke.
I hate that she is here. Fuck, what had I been thinking?
I spot Atlas leaning against the bar. His broad shoulders relaxed, eyes scanning the crowd like he’s on vacation. I catch the moment Atlas clocks me. His face morphs into a shit-eating grin I want to wipe off with a fist to the jaw.
“Couldn’t stay away, could you?” he says before taking a casual sip of whatever neat whiskey sits in front of him.
I ignore his jibe. “Where is she?”
Atlas tilts his head toward the far side of the dance floor, raising an eyebrow like he wants me to say something else. But I can’t. I can’t fucking breathe when my eyes land on her.
There she is, under the neon lights on the dance floor, looking like some goddamn vision in red. The dress — the dress I couldn’t get out of my head—clings to every curve as she moves to the beat. She’s oblivious to everything around her, lost in themusic, her hips swaying in that way that makes men lose their minds.
She’s not alone.
My jaw clenches when I see who’s around her—three guys. Gawking, shameless pricks who circle her like wolves on the hunt, inching closer every time she twirls or dances away. Each of them ready to try their luck if she gives them a chance.
The anger in my belly spreads like wildfire—drumming in my ears, drowning out the bass. Every protective instinct in me snaps into place; my fists clench at my sides when one asshat reaches for her waist, touching what doesn’t belong to him.
I shoot Atlas a look. His grin vanishes. He knows the drill. “She’s fine, Gio. She’s dancing—”
“Not for long.”
