Page 48 of I.O.U.


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“Never while you were out with me,” he growls. I can almost believe he means it when he looks me in the eye, scowling. “I’m of half a mind to tell him to fuck off.”

“Don’t start a fight on my account.” I run a hand over his arm so Mr. Eye Fuck can see. “I mean, wasn’t the whole point to get people’s attention tonight? You can’t start a fire and get mad when somebody pulls out a hose to put it out.”

“Your metaphor is slightly confusing, but I get the point.” We share a genuine smile that almost makes me feel like I belong here. With him, in this world.

I might be in trouble here. With him, in this world. I might like him more than I want to admit. The champagne’s not helping, nor is the cologne he’s wearing. I want to climb him like a tree and hump him in front of everybody on the dance floor.

Good thing a man approaches from behind him and taps him on the shoulder. “Mr. Bruno? Mr. Giordano would like to see you in his study.”

Luca looks at me, brows lifted. “I’ll be fine by myself for a little while,” I assure him, even though I don’t feel anywhere close to secure. “I’ll find a powder room and freshen up while you’re gone.”

“Meet me back here?” he asks, and I nod. I wish like hell he wouldn’t leave me alone, but I can’t make him stay. Besides, the whole point is to strengthen the alliance between the families. Refusing the host’s request would sort of do the opposite.

While he walks off, I look around for the nearest bathroom. There’s one out in the hall, between the ballroom and the kitchen. I duck inside and lock the door before leaning against it. So far, so good. But fuck, my feet are killing me.

There’s a little chair in front of the sink. I take a seat and sigh in relief, rolling my feet in circles to get the blood flowing. Things are going well. I haven’t made any big mistakes, no faux pas or anything. If we’re left pretty much on our own for the rest of the night, we should get out of this with no problems.

Except for the problem of how unbelievably drawn I am to Luca. I need to quit it with the champagne. My head’s fuzzy enough already.

“I heard she ran away.”

I hold my breath, listening to what’s going on outside the door. It’s a woman speaking, and she sounds like she’s savoring the drama. “After that horrible night with the Brunos,” she adds. Hair stands up on the back of my neck.

“That’s not true!” another woman hisses.

“Isn’t it? You don’t see her around here, do you? You know how close she and Natalia always were. Why wouldn’t she come to her sister’s engagement party?”

“You know how it is,” a third woman adds with a soft laugh. “The truth is never the full truth. Paul would never come out and announce his daughter ran off because she couldn’t stand knowing how dangerous life is among his friends.”

Wow. I had no idea so much tea would be spilled at this party. I wonder if Luca knows anything about this, or if it even matters. If the whole idea is to be friends with Paul and to make sure he knows they’re friends, maybe he could offer to help find her. I wonder if he thought to make a connection between his family’s murders and her disappearance.

Wait a second. What am I thinking? I don’t give a damn what happens with Luca’s alliances. I don’t give a damn about any of these people. Olivia ran away? Good for Olivia. I wouldn’t want to be part of this bullshit fake world, either.

I wait another few minutes, until the women’s voices fade and eventually blend in with the rest of the sounds going on outside. Now that the threat of getting pulled into a conversation with a bunch of women I don’t know has passed, I feel a little more confident in leaving the room. One more quick look at myself in the mirror to make sure everything is in place and I open the door.

And right away, I regret it.

“There you are.” It’s Mr. Eye Fuck, leering down at me while leaning against the door frame. Some men could make that look sexy, but not this guy. He makes my blood run cold.

I force a smile. “Excuse me. I have to get back to my—”

He cuts me off by stepping in front of me as I try to get around him. “Your date for the night?” he asks, winking suggestively. He’s drunk and disgusting and makes me want to puke, but I don’t know who he is. He could be somebody important, somebody I can’t afford to piss off.

“My date, yes. Please, excuse me.” We’re too far away from the rest of the party for anybody to notice what’s going on. They’re all too busy gossiping and drinking too much champagne, while the staff in the kitchen are far too involved in their work.

“You don’t remember me, do you?” he asks with a knowing smile.

“I’m sorry, I’m afraid I don’t.” Oh, no. Not this. I thought I was prepared for anything, so why didn’t I think about this?

“That’s disappointing. I know I remember that night vividly.” He lets out a ragged breath, eyes glued to my chest. “By the time I finished, those tits were coated in my cum. Then again, I’m sure I wasn’t the first or the last, was I? We probably blend together after a while.”

“You have me mistaken for somebody else,” I tell him, and for the first time in almost two weeks I’m being completely honest. “I don’t know who you think I am, but trust me, you’re wrong.”

His smile turns to a snarl. “Drop the act, Deanna. Just because some big shot hired you for a party doesn’t mean you’re high class all of a sudden.”

“I don’t know who you’re talking about.” And the worst part is, I can’t do what every instinct is screaming at me to do. If this was some thug on the street, I would have already kicked him in the balls. Something tells me that kind of behavior isn’t going to fly here.

“Come with me.” When I open my mouth, prepared to protest, he grabs me by the back of the neck and pulls me close. I’m so shocked, all the breath leaves me in a big gust. “Here’s what’s going to happen. We’re going to walk through the kitchen and out the side door. You’re going to be a good girl and keep your fucking mouth shut the entire time. We’re going to get in my car, and we’re going to have the sort of fun we did before. Got it?”

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