I remembered some of their faces. Barely. I remembered none of their kisses. None. And somehow I already knew I was going to remember this one. Forever.
This little brunette disaster had walked into my club by accident and somehow kept dragging laughter out of me without even trying. I looked at her properly then. Dark hair falling over one bare shoulder. Flushed cheeks. Big furious eyes staring back at me. Tiny black dress. White heels. Pretty mouth still slightly parted from kissing me.
And something ugly twisted low in my chest. Reality came back all at once. The world outside this room. The fact that she belonged to somebody. Somebody's daughter. Somebody's future wife. Mine wasn't a world where beautiful things stayed beautiful. Mine was a world that stained things. Ruined things. Ruined people. I knew that better than anyone.
Because four years ago I'd watched my brother die. And I had never been the same man after.
My smile disappeared. She noticed.
The little line between her brows appeared. "What now?"
I looked away from her. Very bad fucking sign. Because I never looked away first. I shoved both hands into my pockets and took a step backward. Distance. Needed distance.
"We're done,” I said plainly. I kept my expression neutral. "Go home, little troublemaker."
Absolute stillness. Then, outrage. Pure offended outrage exploded across her face. Her mouth actually fell open. "I'm sorry, what?!"
I turned and started walking toward the door. "Your free time is probably almost up."
"No, no, no." Her heels clicked sharply against the floor behind me. "You do not get to do that."
I stopped. Slowly looked over my shoulder. "Do what?"
She stared at me like she wanted to physically fight me.
"You kiss me," she hissed, pointing dramatically at me, "and then decide you're done?"
I raised an eyebrow. "You seem very invested in this."
Her eyes widened. "I am not invested!"
"Mm,” I nodded.
"You are unbelievable!" I watched anger spread across her face while she folded her arms tightly over her chest.
And fuck me, I wanted to pull her right back into my arms. Wanted to kiss her again. Wanted to see whether she'd make that tiny surprised sound a second time. Wanted to watch her forget to argue. Wanted so much more.
Absolutely the fuck not. I had already lost Angelo. Already spent four years buried beneath grief and blood and revenge. I wasn't dragging some smart-mouthed little hurricane into my mess. Not tonight. Maybe not ever.
I looked at her for a long moment. Long enough for her anger to soften around the edges. Long enough for confusion to replace it. Long enough for me to hate the look in her eyes. Because she looked disappointed.
Then I stepped closer. Close enough to brush a loose strand of hair behind her ear. Close enough to smell apples again. Close enough to feel her breathing change.
"We'll see each other again,” I warned her.
Her eyes searched mine. "We will?"
I smiled beneath the devil mask. Slow. Certain. Dangerous. "You sealed your fate tonight."
Silence. Then I opened the door.
"Now get out of my club before I change my mind,” I finished.
She stared at me. Still angry. Still confused. Still looking at me like she'd forgotten what she was supposed to feel. Good. Because I'd forgotten too. And that scared the hell out of me.
I turned before I did something catastrophically stupid. Like look at her again. Like walk back. Like forget every reason I had for leaving in the first place. The door clicked shut behind me, cutting off the private lounge and the tiny brunette hurricane currently standing inside it looking confused and pissed off and probably plotting my murder.
Silence hit me for about half a second. Then reality came rushing back in. Music bled through the walls in slow, heavy pulses. Bass rolled beneath my shoes like a second heartbeat while amber light spilled across black marble and gold accents lining the hallway outside. Somewhere deeper inside the club, glasses clinked. People laughed. Doors opened and closed.
