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“Excuse me?”
“You lighten things up. Make him laugh.”
Louis ushers me into the elevator and presses the top floor, taking us to our penthouse. I let a small smile form as I replay his words back for every ding the elevator makes.
You lighten things up. Make him laugh.
I’m ready and waiting for Gio when he arrives to pick me up. I’ve straightened my hair, donned a sexy cocktail dress with a deep, plunging neckline, and slipped into stilettos that make my legs and ass look amazing.
Gio takes one look at me, eye-fucking me head to toe with a cock of his brow. He offers me his arm and guides me down to his shiny red luxury car—a Rolls-Royce convertible.
He opens the passenger-side door for me.
“You’re driving us?”
“It’s a nice evening to go for a drive ourselves,” he says, waiting for me to get in. “Of course, we’ll still have coverage.”
My gaze lifts to the side mirror, where a sleek black car waits behind us. Louis sits at the wheel.
Gio slams on the gas a second later. Gravity shoves me against the seat belt as the scenery of the Vittoria falls behind us. He turns onto a narrow street behind the resort and casino and then onto the Strip. Traffic is jammed this time of evening, but he navigates the crowded lanes with careless ease, slipping between cars with barely a look.
Before I can orient myself, we’re speeding onto the freeway. I check the side mirror. Louis is on our tail, apparently accustomed to his boss’s speed demon driving. Hot September air whips around us, messing our hair.
He doesn’t seem to care. He steers with one arm, sliding into the next lane when the mood strikes him. I gather my long, flat-ironed hair as if my hand is a ponytail holder. My heart is thumping in my rib cage, and I’m not so sure it’s just because of Gio’s fast driving.
A sense of thrill sparks through my body. When Gio swerves into the fast lane and guns it, jetting by any other car on the freeway, the sound of laughter fills my ears—mylaughter.
It catches Gio off guard. He swaps his gaze between me and the road ahead several times. Then one of his rare, slight smirks touches his lips, framed by his dark beard. If possible, the convertible shoots even faster. I stick my arms up and feel the air kissing my skin.
Las Vegas melts away and steep desert canyons materialize in every direction. We have the road to ourselves as we speed toward the golden horizon. I have no clue where we’re going, but I’ve never been more excited for a dinner party. Even if there’s a possibility of bloodshed tonight.
What the hell has gotten into me? Another delirious laugh slips past my lips. I have no idea, but I’m finally living life the way it was meant to be lived—indulging in the finer things, flirting with the edge of danger, letting go with reckless abandon.
We come up along a wide bend and a huge mansion in the desert hills pops up. Gio slows the closer we get to the wrought-iron gate. It spreads open for us, allowing us entrance. The driveway winds along the front of the massive house. The Spanish-style architecture of the red roofing and clean, white stucco walls stand out against the desert landscape.
He shifts the gear into park and turns to look at me. His bright blue eyes only stoke the fire of adventure burning inside me. “We’re here.”
