I perked up at that.Holy shit, he’s not joking!
“Luigi will pick you up at nine,” Nico continued. “He’ll make sure you get inside. Then, just wander around, see what information you can pick up. What do you think? Can you be my sweet little spy?”
I stared down at him, searching his dark gaze. The hunger was back, dominating the exhaustion. “Sanderson won’t let me go.”
Nico smirked. “I’ll have Luigi pay her a visit. She’ll shut her mouth about your absence or else.”
“Me…at a…party.” It felt surreal. “Tell me the truth, is this a pity invitation or do you really need me to spy?”
Nico pressed his thumb into my clit. “I need you, Rae.”
I ached for him.
“Say yes, baby,” he coaxed. “Say you’ll be there so I can watch you all night. So I can plan exactly how I’m going to rip the dress off your body.”
With a shiver, I breathed, “Yes, Nico.”
“Good girl.” Lifting his hand from my thigh, Nico cupped my jaw. “I wish it was me. Picking you up, escorting you, spending the evening together. Someday it will be different. I promise you that.”
Those words set my poor heart hammering.
He believed it. I saw that in his face.
I wasn’t going to tell him it was almost impossible for me to feel the same. A future where I didn’t have to wear a mask seemed far away.
“What kind of flowers do you like?” he breathed.
With a rough laugh, I untangled myself and shot to my feet. “You hate ice? I hate flowers.”
I had to leave. Right the fuck now. The way he was looking at me was too real, too raw.
“Why?” Nico leaned back, clasping his hands behind his head.
As I hurried to the door, I threw over my shoulder, “They die.”
***
This was something out of a movie. I didn’t even want to know how much the dress cost. It was safe to say that my entire wardrobe over the course of my whole life didn’t add up to the way this gown felt. It was like being draped inhundred-dollar bills from my throat to the soles of my feet—which were in strappy stilettos.
The shimmering onyx dress wrapped around my neck with a beaded collar. It flowed over my breasts with a cut out window for the gals to say hi. The back was bare. From my ribs over my hips, it was snug and left no room for imagination. There was a slit that ran from my left hip—not thigh,hip—to the floor. Luckily, I had high-waisted, sheer tights that kept my business from flashing as I moved.
I had no idea what character I was, but complete with a black, half-face mask, it didn’t matter. The look was spectacular.
The only thing powerful enough to dampen my spirits was walking through the back door with Luigi and seeing all the other glamorous women. They came in every shape, size, and color—each one a masterpiece replica in their costumes.
At least I fit in.
Luigi gave me a wink and disappeared. On the way here, he’d been a little more forthcoming with my instructions. The upper echelons of the mob were here tonight, but so were the elites of Boston. I was supposed to mingle without seeming to eavesdrop. I needed to find out if anyone was planning to invest in a venture called MAQUIX, fund a charity known as Angels of Peace, or liquidate any assets in the Bourbon Neighborhood.
None of that meant anything to me.
But Luigi said they were merely key words, and I just needed to listen and remember.
Grabbing a flute of champagne, I slowly wandered through the throng of buzzards. There was nothing remotely fun about this party. They were stuck up and snooty, standing at their bistro tables, eating chocolate that one lady said was imported from Europe or snagging crappy little appetizers from passing trays.
Because it was part of my job, I noticed the details like the servers weren’t holding the trays steady or that Franky’s food was so much better than this.
It was…strange. Strange to be here as a participant rather than working.
