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We head downstairs, his hand stroking down my back to my ass in the elevator. I grin as the door opens, and he guides me out, under his arm, and over to a red Ferrari. He opens the door, and I slip in, watching as he rounds the hood and slides into the driver’s seat. He winks over at me. “Hold on,” he warns, and the engine revs as he peels from the spot.
I scream in ecstasy as we break free of the building and race out into the streets. It’s getting dark now, the city coming to life as he weaves through traffic. We leave the city and head onto an open stretch of road. With one hand on the wheel, the other on the stick shift, he speeds up before reaching over and laying his hand on my bare thigh, squeezing it as he drives.
My hair blows back, my heart hammers from the speed, and a grin curves my lips. This is amazing. I open my legs farther for him, and his hand slips higher, stopping when his thumb brushes my pussy, just staying there as he steers. The way he handles the machine, and how fast we are going, still climbing, turns me on.
Why is that so hot?
It takes barely any time before we turn and head down a private driveway on the wealthiest side of town. “Why don’t you guys have a house here?” I ask.
“We do. We hate it.” He grins over at me as we pull up at a black, ornate fence with a crest on the front. “We hate rich people, stuffy bastards.”
“You are a rich person.” I laugh.
“True, and aren’t I a stuffy bastard?”
The gate cranks open, and he speeds through it, driving down a lit cobbled lane to a circular driveway with a fountain in the middle, situated before a giant mansion. He pulls up right outside the door and throws his keys at the valet there as he gets out, rounding to open my door for me. He offers me his hand, and I accept it, then he helps me up and wraps his arm around my waist as we head up the steps to the entrance.
The door is opened for us. Music pours out, and when we step inside, my mouth almost drops. Fuck, this is a how the other half lives. Chandeliers hang everywhere, with old-style, gold framed art hanging on every wall alongside family portraits. Two curving staircases lead up to the first floor from the lobby we’re in.
Music and laughter and the clinking of glasses reaches us. Women walk around in tight dresses and jewels, decked to the nines on the arms of men in suits. It all screams money, and I’m sure as shit out of place. But Kenzo doesn’t care, he leans down to murmur, “Fake it, baby, they all are, all of them hiding their own, dark little secrets. See the one with the moustache?”
I nod as the man in question walks past. “He’s sleeping with his stepdaughter, the one laughing in the giant group of rich douches. He’s going broke. It’s all a game, darling, a dangerous one, but a game nonetheless. Here, they use words, not fists, but it’s still the same. You know how to play, so do I. They aren’t better than us, no, they are nothing. Just pawns, all wanting power and money, doing anything for it.” He kisses my neck and straightens as a man heads over to greet us. He doesn’t even look at me as he shakes Kenzo’s hand.
“Good to see you. You owe me a hand later to try and earn back my money.” He feigns a laugh.
“Of course.” Kenzo grins, but it’s a mask, I can see it. “Please allow me to introduce my date, Roxy.”
The man finally looks at me, running his eyes up and down my body, his own beady ones heating. “Nice to meet you…Roxy,” he greets, taking my hand and kissing the back of it.
“I wish I could say the same, but since you didn’t introduce yourself before staring at my breasts, I can’t exactly meet you, can I?” I smirk.
He laughs and seems more interested now, perking up like he, himself, was playing a game. “Of course not. I apologise, I am used to the dumb arm candy who only care about the colour of your credit card. I am Stefan, it is a pleasure, Roxy.” He nods, seeming respectful now.
“Sorry, but we have others to meet, money to take,” Kenzo remarks, and pulls me away with Stefan watching after us. “Charming men already, darling?” he murmurs to me. “Be careful, baby, they are all snakes here.”
“None as much as you,” I offer, looking up at him as we stop in a doorway. “And yet, I am on your arm, asshole.”
“You love it.” He winks as two drinks are delivered to us. He passes me the scotch and downs the champagne before passing it back to the server. “Another scotch for me.”
I almost laugh that he knew I wouldn’t drink that bubbly shit as I sip the drink, letting the warmth wash through me as I survey the room. Tables are set up around the space, like a casino but in a mansion, and there is a bar and tables. It’s impressive and filled with the city’s rich and powerful, all gambling their money away.
The same money they steal from the poor.
“Who runs this? You?”
“No, the gentleman we are here to see. He is past city limits, which is why I don’t own him, plus he’s an old acquaintance,” Kenzo answers quietly, smiling and nodding to people as they pass.
“Not a friend?” I inquire, scanning the crowd.
“I don’t have friends, darling. I have brothers and you,” he offers distractedly, before pulling me through the crowd. “There he is. Don’t hold back on my account, these rich pricks could do with your attitude, baby, so shake them up and call them on their shit. Fuck knows I do.”
“Yet they love you,” I comment, as I see them all greeting him.
“They love my money and the power I hold. They don’t know how to take you, but you’re with me, so they will laugh with you and they won’t fight back. Do as you wish, be as mean as you want, be you.”
Well, he gave me permission. He will regret that.
We stop at a full table, and suddenly, a seat becomes available at his presence. Kenzo sits and pulls me into his lap. There are four men, the dealer a female in a short cocktail dress. “Danny.” Kenzo nods at the man opposite us.
