Page 29 of The One-Night Heist

The “Moneybags” nickname gave it away.

What he didn’t know—what I longed to explain, even if I would be sharing too much—was how ill-fitting it all was. How I’d never felt like I belonged in this world.

Something tells me he already knows how that feels…

“I’m still figuring that out, to be honest,” I haltingly began. “I do know I want to be free.”

He raised his eyebrows, probably surprised by my candidness. “Free of what?”

“The circumstances I’ve found myself in,” I replied, holding his gaze and forcing myself to not hide behind my usual facade.

While what I was saying was the truth, I could admit I was also being slightly manipulative, using Rowen’s own desires against him. But, as he himself had said, I was willing to do anything to get what I want.

I don’t play fair either.

He stared at me for a long moment, his deceptively cherubic face schooled into an impassive mask worthy of most of the company I’d been forced to keep throughout my life.

I take it back.

Mother would have grudgingly respected him.

“I think it’s time you asked for the check, Giano,” he finally said, gaze trailing over me with so much heat, I sat up straighter in my chair. “And see about getting us that room.”

I fully exhaled before carefully responding, wary of appearing exactly as eager as I was. “Does that mean you are willing to make an exception to your usual rule of not mixing business with pleasure?”

Please say yes.

Rowen demurely dabbed his mouth with the cloth napkin before revealing his blatant smirk. “Oh, you bet I’ll make an exception for you, Giancarlo Luxford. I have no generational reputations to uphold, and I’m dying to help you ruin yours.”

Please.

I knew his words were yet another signpost along my path of self-destruction, but I couldn’t find it in me to course correct or care. Instead, I called over the waiter to put the bill on my tab before leading my “date” out of the restaurant and toward the penthouse elevator.

Please ruin me.

Once inside the car, Rowen crossed his arms and casually leaned against the mirrored wall while we ascended—the epitome of calm as I stared at the numbers and tried not to leave my stomach behind on the second floor.

“Can the Luxford Holdings shareholders reserve the penthouse too, or is that just a benefit for you to enjoy?”

“Only me,” I replied, my voice a low growl, my nerves aflame, subtly clenching my fists by my side to keep from reaching for him.

Mine.

Rowen remained quiet as the elevator dinged and the doors opened, and when I walked out into the living room, he didn’t follow. I slowly turned, suddenly terrified he was about to close the elevator doors and disappear from my life completely.

“I’m not the first man you’ve brought here, am I?” he asked, his expression giving nothing away.

He wants honesty.

“No,” I confirmed. “It would not have been… appropriate for me to bring the men I hired through the club to my family’s apartment.”

Not while Mother was alive.

The realization I could technically bring whoever the hell I wanted home with me now hit the same moment I acknowledged Rowen couldn’t be included in that newfound freedom.

No one can know about us.

“So this is where you keep your secrets,” he murmured—a statement, not a question—finally exiting the elevator to join me.