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He closed the car door, and watching through her tears, she saw him make a call and pick up his gun. He only talked for a few seconds before marching back to her and helping her out.
“I need to take off, but I won’t be long and my manager will take good care of you.”
“Manager?” she repeated. “What manager?”
Before Marco could answer, the ding of the elevator caught her attention. A well-dressed, attractive man strode toward them.
“Steph, this is Carmine,” Marco declared as the man approached. “I’ll be back before you know it. Carmine, put her in the King’s Room and get her a drink.”
“Hello, Steph,” Carmine said warmly, putting his arm around her shoulders and guiding her forward. “You don’t have to worry. I have all the security cameras on, and the club is locked down. Marco is the only one who can get in.”
“Wait…” she muttered, suddenly pivoting on her feet and almost toppling on her stilettos. “Marco…?”
He was already climbing into the Rover, but he stopped and looked back at her.
“I’m sorry.”
Her voice had been thin, but carried through the quiet garage.
“It’s okay,” he called back. “I won’t be long.”
Leaning against Carmine as they entered the elevator, she let out a long, heavy breath. Silently berating herself, she wondered if the terrifying ordeal could have been avoided if she’d told Marco about the flash drive back at the lodge.
“Sometimes I’m an idiot,” she muttered as Carmine walked her down the hall.
“Sometimes we’re all idiots,” he assured her, opening a door. “You can rest in here.”
Casting her eyes around the sumptuous suite, she was momentarily distracted from her heavy thoughts. A huge, dark wood, four-post bed sat in the middle of the room sporting a glossy burgundy bedspread. Directly against the opposite wall, a matching chair resembled a throne, with forest green velvet drapes hanging on either side.
“I suggest you lie down,” he said, though it sounded like an order.
Sitting on the edge of the bed and kicking off her high heels, she watched him open a drinks cabinet and pour cognac into a brandy snifter.
“This will settle your nerves,” he promised, handing it to her.
“Thank you.”
Taking a sip, she closed her eyes and savored the warm liquor sliding down her throat.
It helped.
She took another.
Letting out a relieved sigh and opening her eyes, she saw him lifting a blanket from an armoire across the room.
Walking back to her, he flapped it open and laid it over her lap. “Have you ever had a gun pointed at you before?”
“Never, I’m still shaking.”
“That’s normal, you literally just faced death. Take my advice,” he continued, sitting on the edge of the bed. “Drink the whole glass, then lie down, cover yourself with the blanket, and think about the happiest times of your life. Your favorite vacation, what you loved to do as a kid, whatever. I’m going to lock the door, not to keep you in, but so you’ll feel safe. If I come back, I’ll knock three times, then you’ll know it’s me. Marco will do the same. Okay?”
“Okay.”
“Steph, Marco is a very powerful man. I don’t know what was behind that incident, but trust me, it won’t go unpunished. Get some rest. The bathroom is through that door next to the armoire. If you need anything dial zero on the phone. It doesn’t have an outside line. It’s just for internal use.”
“Phone?”
“Right there, on the nightstand.”
