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Prologue
The first time I locked eyes with Storm St. James, I knew she would be mine. She had the beauty of a regal queen. Smooth, rich mahogany skin, high cheekbones, hazel brown eyes that danced every time she smiled. Her sensual lips were bow-shaped and begged for my kiss. Long dark hair that fell in waves over one of her eyes as if she’d rocked with Aaliyah. A waist meant for the curving of my hands. A round ass and perky breasts I longed to possessively grab. Shapely legs for days. Her height was perfect for a tall man. She exuded confidence and intelligence like a well-worn dress. Whatever she wanted, she expected and received without ever demanding it. Storm St. James was an exceptional woman and designed especially for me.
Brocco, my big brother, and I were cruising a six-level club. We were slowly making our way through each floor, enjoying the various genres of music and wearing masquerade masks. We wanted a night of fun without the threat of some crazed fool using the opportunity to attack. In Manhattan, even without the masks, we were essentially invisible. For once, we could be young men enjoying the hunt for women and not the latest person to double cross or attempt an attack on the DeLuca organization. We were the largest family crime syndicate in the world. Our family branches were located throughout the country and the world. If you cut off one of the branches, the whole tree will fall down on your house and your whole fucking neighborhood.
Brocco got caught up with a sexy Latina on the fifth floor, where the DJ spun House music. I continued on my path, smiling and nodding to the echoing beats between the floors. When the elevator opened to the sixth floor, 50 Cent’s In Da Club blasted, and I wandered through the floor, deciding to station myself here. The rap and hip-hop vibe fit me more than the other levels. I headed to the bar, and though I hadn’t yet reached twenty, the hot caramel barmaid happily gave me a McCallen when I cooly passed her a Benjamin. I scanned the area, noticed a lively birthday party roped off on the club's side and spotted a magnificent aquarium near the balcony covering the wall. The water glowed ocean blue, purple, and pink. Neon fish floated, creating an oasis of peace. I’d always been fascinated with water. I had several aquariums in my recently acquired brownstone in Brooklyn, and their alluring beauty soothed me.
Nursing my McCallan, I slowly approached the aquarium. The music was lower. I could actually hear myself breathe. I gazed at the vibrant fish, allowing the unusual serenity in the middle of a hype club to flow through me. As I sipped, the unmistakable silhouette of a woman eased beside me. I watched her through the aquarium. The ripples and the colors made her dark skin appear ethereal, almost unreal. Maybe she was an illusion and would vanish when I turned my head. I wanted this moment that might be a fantasy to remain longer, so I said nothing. She would speak first. Only then would I acknowledge her and believe she was real.
After a few more minutes of comfortable silence, she said, “Looks like we’re the only two souls in this club magnetically drawn to water. Must be meant.” Her voice was lighter and more lyrical than I imagined. I expected raspy or throaty.
“Magnetic is the right word. How could anyone walk by something this amazing and ignore it?” I gave her a side glance, and my heart jumped. The elaborate mask she wore couldn’t hide that she was simply gorgeous. I pressed my hand against the glass. “See that fish...it’s the king.”
“How do you know?” She moved closer to me. The scent of expensive perfume from a city like Paris and natural joy caressed my nose.
“Wherever he swims, most of the fish follow.”
She placed her hand next to mine, our thumbs almost touching. “What about that one in the corner doing her own thing.”
I chuckled. “You would say her, though you would be correct. He’s trying to get her attention, and she doesn’t give a fuck. Typical.”
“I think I like that fish already.” She looked up at me and smiled.
“Something tells me you would.” I grinned back. The type of grin that would remain until my face hurt. “I’m Gavin.”
“Okay, just Gavin...you think you can read me after knowing me for a second?” Our hands remained next to each other, though we hadn’t touched.
“Yes. You said we were meant.” I turned to face her. If either of us took a deep breath, her full breasts would touch my chest. I loved that her lips still hovered right under mine, even in heels. “You’re a water sign, though you have fiery tendencies. Bet your name fits your personality.”
“A Pisces, and my name matches my personality. My name is Storm.” She tilted her head slightly, and her smile spread. “Do you always club alone?”
“Mm...Storm...my favorite X-Men character and that’s not a line. How do you know I’m alone?” I wondered if she’d been watching me since I entered this floor. I snuck a quick glance around the room. I’d forgotten to be hypervigilant. This time, my eyes landed on a man walking back to the party section with his arm around a woman. Fuck. Xavier St. James. One of my enemies and I had no backup. There were several white people besides myself in this primarily black and brown crowd, so my dirty blonde hair shouldn’t be a giveaway. And I was wearing a mask. He wouldn’t recognize me. I exhaled silently.
“Your woman wouldn’t allow you to be alone this long,” she commented, drawing my focus back to her. “And your friends would have come up to you by now, trying to get you back to the bar or dance floor.”
Relaxing once more, I added, “I could say the same for you. We’ve been here for a minute without interruption.”
“Oh, I’m not alone.” She moved her hand closer to mine on the glass until our thumbs touched. “Care to guess who I’m with tonight?”
“If it’s a man, he’s a stupid motherfucker to ever leave you alone looking like you do tonight.” I allowed my gaze to travel leisurely up her shapely curves. “Because if you were mine, that would never happen.”
“I don’t like possessive men,” she stated, though she made no step away from me.
“Because you’ve never been possessed by me.” My thumb caressed the back of her hand. “Let’s get out of here.”
With a slight shake of her head, she smiled. “I’m here with fam and friends. Can’t just leave.”
“Can I see your face?”
“Don’t want my family to see me yet, so I can only show you a peek. I’m late for my own party.” She lifted the elaborate and intricately designed mask, and I bit back my gasp. Grateful she couldn’t see my face clearly, I looked past her shoulders and saw Xavier St. James holding two bottles, searching the crowd, probably looking for his sister, Storm St. James. Before he noticed me, I grabbed her hand and pulled her onto the balcony, where only a few people milled around. She giggled and followed me willingly. “You really are possessive.”
“Just wanted to wish you a ‘Happy birthday’.” Before she could say or do anything, I pulled off my mask, curved my hand to her nape, and kissed her. Shock registered first, and then she melted into me. I took advantage of her acquiescence and slipped my tongue inside her mouth, savoring the sweetness of chocolate and liquor. I abruptly broke the kiss, both of us panting, and whispered, “I can’t believe I’m not supposed to love you.”
Dazed, she asked, “What does that mean?”
I glanced into the club. Brocco had entered without his mask. Xavier immediately noticed my brother and whispered to a big guy beside him. “I have to go.”
“I don’t understand.”
