Page 4 of Taking His Heart

“You’re more important than any conversation, Daniella. Give me a minute. I’m going to go tell your mother I’m taking you back upstairs.”

“Okay,” I agree, because I know there isn’t any point in arguing with my dad about this. He’s not letting me walk out of this ballroom alone.

An awkwardness falls over me as I watch my father walk away and I’m left standing here with CJ’s dad. Who I’m sure hates me just as much as his son does.

Mr. Bianchi stares at me a moment before he smiles. “Daniella, how’ve you been?”

Shit. I look around, anywhere but at him. “Good, you?” I reply.

“Busy. You enjoying being back in Sin City?”

“Well, we only got here yesterday. I also don’t plan on staying long,” I mutter.

“That’s a shame.” His words cause my face to snap to his.

“What do you mean by that?”

“Well, I know people in this city would love for you to be around more.”

“I doubt anyone wants me here, Mr. Bianchi.”

“You’d be surprised,” he says.

My dad picks that moment to return. “You ready?”

“Yeah.”

“You’re leaving?” Mr. Bianchi asks me.

“Yeah, I have a headache.”

“Well, hope you feel better, sweetheart.”

I’m not sure how to respond to his kindness. I hurt his son. Why is he being nice to me?

“Thank you.” I smile politely and step closer to my dad.

“I’ll be back. I’m just going to walk Daniella up to her room,” Dad tells Mr. Bianchi, who nods in response.

The ride up in the elevator is quiet.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Dad asks, stopping at the door that leads to my room.

“I’m just tired. Jet lag,” I tell him.

“Okay, call if you need anything.” He kisses my forehead and waits for me to step inside the room before he turns and walks away.

Closing the door, I lean my back against it, taking a huge breath. I will the tears not to fall. I don’t deserve to cry, because every bit of pain I’m feeling right now is my own damn fault.

After a few more deep breaths, I push away from the door and head into the bedroom. I need to get out of this ballgown and into something more comfortable. I also need to get out of this hotel. I know my dad will be pissed if he discovers I went out after he walked me back to my room, but I’m in my twenties. I’m not a child. I’m not going to just sit here and feel sorry for myself.

I’m going to get changed, go out, and drink my problems away. This is Vegas, after all. There’s a party in every casino somewhere.

I pull out a little black skirt and a sparkly silver bandanna top. I remove the clips from my hair, let the blonde waves fall over my shoulders, and then I’m ready to go. I’m going to find a club and drink and dance the rest of the night away. It’s a shame everyone I know is in that ballroom, but I’m good at having fun on my own. Besides, in this outfit, I doubt I’ll be that way for long.

I’ll find a warm body to use for the night. I’ll feel better for a few hours. Until morning comes, and along with it, the guilt. Even knowing that, I’m going to follow through on this plan.

Thankfully, I manage to make it out of the Royal Flush without running into anyone I know. I like being in cities where I’m just another body in the crowd. It’s freeing in a sense.