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Something dark crosses Angelo’s features, his hand tightening around my leg as a small whimper of pain falls from my lips. Thankfully the sound is swallowed by the loud music that beats throughout the club.
“That kid’s a fucking menace. Has he put his hands on you, darling?”
I shake my head. “No, he’s just strict is all.”
“Well, I won’t tell if you don’t.”
Fuck. I hoped the first excuse would work because the more that comes out of my mouth, the more likely they are to catch on to the fact I know what they’re trying to do.
I take the drink from his outstretched hand, but I don’t take a sip just yet, my hand shaking as I bring it to my lap. “Truthfully, I don’t drink much. I’m a bit of a lightweight.” The giggle that slips from my throat is fake, but I need them to underestimate me. I need them to think I’m just another girl that will fall at their feet because of who they are.
“Don’t worry, sweetheart. We’ll take real good care of you,” the guy across from me drawls.
I barely contain the eye roll. These three are such typical predators that if I weren’t trapped by them, it might actually make me laugh. “I don’t know your names.” I flutter my eyelashes at them, desperately trying to buy myself some time before I’m forced to take a sip of the drink.
“Well, you know I’m Angelo Russo.” His hot breath on my cheek only makes it harder to keep my dinner in my stomach. “And on the other side of you is my cousin, Paul. And across from us is his brother Tony.”
“I’m Emerson.” I smile with a little wave. I hate playing this role, but it’s necessary. Men like this don’t like strong women, so I’m forced to pretend I’m not one.
Paul’s hand comes down on my other thigh and panic starts to rise. I’m trapped. There’s no escape and I don’t know how long I can keep the pretense up. How long can I hold out on taking a sip of the drink? If I take a sip, I’m fucked. They’ll have to get me out of here, or at the very least to one of the private rooms on the other side of the bar, and surely Robyn and Darren won’t just let them take me.
“Your drink is going to get warm there, Miss Emerson.” Tony nods toward the untouched glass in my hand.
They each raise a glass and I’m forced to follow suit, my hand shaking violently as I bring the glass to my lips, the taste of vodka hitting my tongue as soon as the glass touches them.
“Em, can you cover for me for a minute? I just need to run to the bathroom.” Robyn pops her head into the booth and I’m standing before anyone can stop me.
“Sorry gentlemen, I’ll have to have a drink with you another time.” I smile and step over Angelo’s legs, hoping Robyn can see how fucking grateful I am for her interrupting.
A hand shoots out and wraps around my wrist so tightly I gasp in pain. “We’re not done, Emerson.” The way my name comes off Angelo Russo’s tongue makes me want to throw up.
“Next time.” I yank my wrist from his grip and scurry away to the bar.
Today just keeps getting better.
10
Rayne
Ipull up to Empire just before midnight, six hours after I was originally meant to meet my brother. It’s Wednesday night, so not the busiest night of the week for one of the many clubs around Chicago owned by Frost Industries, but there are still people everywhere as I push my way through the dance floor to the VIP area on the other side.
Empire is Storm’s preferred location for these kinds of discussions because the music drowns out any chance of being overheard, and even the feds’ very best bugs couldn’t make heads or tails of a conversation with the bass pumping the way it does here.
My brother’s eyes lock on mine as I pass the bouncer and fall into the seat next to him. Today didn’t go how I expected, and Storm must see that on my face as he hands me a glass of whiskey.
“Rough day?” he asks, tipping his own drink back.
“You have no idea.” I drain the glass in one go and then lean forward, refilling my glass and repeating the process.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
I shake my head. “Not really.”
“What happened to your hand?” He nods toward my split knuckles. I should have known he would notice it, but I didn’t have time to go home to get cleaned up after I left Brad’s because I was already so fucking late.
“Someone’s face had a disagreement with it.” I smirk. The memory of pounding my fist into Brad’s face is one of the only good things I’ll take out of this hell of a day. Well that, and touching Emerson the way I’ve longed to since the moment I first caught sight of her. There are so many things I want to do to her, and almost all of them involve her being completely naked, but it’s a start.
Storm chuckles. “One of Russo’s men?”
