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“Gabrio,” he snaps over his shoulder, “would you and Enriquez please escort Ms…”
“Sanchez,” I grit out, holding his gaze.“Ivy Sanchez.”
“—Ms. Sanchez to her car,” he finishes swiftly. “Useallforce, if necessary.” He smirks again at my shocked gasp.“And Queenie?” He turns to address Red De Vil who’s hovering next to him, tapping something into her iPhone with her crimson talons. “Would you be so kind as to inform Ms. Sanchez of her lack of rights, considering she’s now officially trespassing on my property. As for Ms. Miller, she’ll be taking an alternative method of transport home later.”
Before I can protest, he’s taking me by the wrist and practically flinging me into the open elevator carriage. By the time I’ve recovered, we’re moving upward to an unknown destination and Edier has a hand at the base of my throat, pinning me to the mirrored wall behind.
“What thefuckare you doing here, Ella?”
He’s standing so close I’m practically wearing himandhis expensive black suit. His scent is everything I remember and more. It’s making my head spin and my chest hurt.
“Following a lead,” I croak, ignoring that familiar twinge between my legs. “How was I to know this was one of your establishments?”
“Considering I own most of Manhattan,Bonita,you knew damn well it was one of mine.”
“I know nothing about you anymore, Edier Grayson. I chose not to keep up that education because those kinds of lessons always lead to tears and disappointment.”
His lips peel back in a snarl. It’s as if I’ve wounded him, but that’s impossible. The man’s officially dead from the waist up.
Meanwhile, we’re climbing higher and higher at a crazy speed and there’s a strange keening noise emanating from the mechanism above our head.
“Whatever trail you’re following, you need to leave it alone.” His grip on me loosens and he takes a step back. “It stopsnow.”
“It stops when we find the story.”
He pauses a fraction too long. “What story?”
“Two dead girls. Two separateHelioshotel suites. The cops listed them as suicides, but we both know that’s fiction. You and my father had the NYPD sewn up decades ago, so I don’t trust a single report of their’s.”
“Walk away,” he orders. “Before I drag you kicking and screaming behind me. Don’t think I won’t do it, Ella.”
Heat surges in my veins. “I’d like to see you try!”
“Ay,Dios Mío!”He spins away from me in frustration before thinking better of it. A beat later, I find myself being crowded up against the same mirrored wall, that warm hand back at the base of my throat. “Walk away,” he urges again, his tone low, dangerous, and tinged with a darkness that scares me. “I’m not asking you, Ella. I’m fuckingbeggingyou to.”
My eyes widen in surprise. Edier doesn’t beg for anything. He forces everyone else to kneel and then kicks them in the face when they’re down.
“What’s going on? Are you in some kind of danger?”
He glares at me and thenthe corners of his mouth twitch. “Did you really just ask me that,Mi Cielo? Knowing who I am, and what I do? Did you slip and bang your head in the last three years, or did I fuck you so hard that night every pretty brain cell foundered? It was a hell of a good time. I remember that much.”
It’s the endearment that does it, more so than the taunt. I can feel it ripping at the delicate strands of my restraint as years of repressed hurt take over.
As the elevator slows and the doors ping open at the Penthouse Suite, I drive my knee into his crotch so hard he lets go of me with a grunt, determined to make him feel as much pain in the place that once gave me so much pleasure, no matter how much residual misery it’s going to cause my swollen joints later.
“I wasn’t your ‘sky’ three years ago, and I’m sure as hell not your ‘sky’ now,” I say angrily, as he reels backward, hissing and cursing. “Go find Queenie. I’m sure she’ll kiss it better for you!”
Then, stepping out of the elevator carriage, my heart jackhammering in my chest, I reach back in to slam my palm against a couple of random floor buttons, watching in triumph as the doors close shut on his howl of rage.
16
EDIER
Slammingthe pedal to the floor, the Ferrari roars out into the oncoming traffic, cutting up three yellow cabs and a black saloon full of Turkish dignitaries who just pulled up to the front ofHelios.
Like I give a fuck.
My balls are aching, but the pain in my chest is alive and roaring. When I stumbled out of bed this morning with the mother of all hangovers, I didn’t expect to find myself face to face with the biggest one of all in my hotel lobby three hours later.Her bodyguards know to send me her itineraries in advance, followed by updates every half hour.
