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“No promises.” I laugh. “See you soon, Callie.”
By the time I get to the Diamond Lounge, it’s already half-past eleven, and the Friday night crowd is in full swing. Even after years mingling with elite society types, I’m still not used to navigating these sorts of upscale haunts. Not on my own, anyway. I can pretend to know my way around the social scene all I want, but at the end of the day, I’m still just Vivian Dalton, the sheltered daughter of a mobster, and I’m starting to think I’ll never be anyone else.
The bouncer lets me in without any trouble, hardly even looking twice at my ID, and I let out a sigh of relief when the heavy double doors close behind me, signaling my safe passage into the less-than-desirable hotbed of delectable trouble. I’m immediately hit with a wave of cool air, and I breathe in deeply, savoring the sharp scent of alcohol that hangs in the room. I’m instantly transported back to my early teens, and all the dinner parties my dad used to throw. That was when he was still trying to find a way to smooth out our relationship with the Emmerico crime family, the leader of which just so happens to be Lucas’s father. Dad was playing the long game, even then. He knew an alliance would help us put our differences aside and make both gangs infinitely more profitable... and I’ll give you three guesses which one of us is the pawn who’s going to seal the deal.
My destiny was written from the start. I was always going to marry Lucas Emmerico; it just so happens that no one ever bothered to ask me whether that was what I wanted.
I order a gin and tonic at the bar while I wait for Callie to show up. I sip it gingerly as I survey the room, doing my best to fit in with the faceless masses. Everyone in the nightclub looks their part. There are the cocky young businessmen with their Italian suits, the overly-indulged heiresses with their faces caked in designer makeup, the sassy but ultimately harmless socialites who know how to pout and know how to protest and know how to get what they want. But who am I to complain, right? I’m basically one of them.
Nonetheless, I know I need to be careful here. Even with my coming nuptials, the Emmerico’s own the Diamond Lounge, and the relationship between our families is still tenuous. Maybe, on some level, that’s why I came here: to scope out what I’m going to have to deal with once I’m the Emmerico family’s fresh-faced young mafia queen.
But still, the thought of running into Lucas here—
Before I can ponder it further, someone slides onto the bar stool next to mine. I freeze with my drink halfway to my mouth, because for a split-second my nervous mind convinces me itisLucas. God, if he spotted me here... If he thought I was on the hunt for something other than booze...
But it’s not Lucas. It can’t be, since he’s the one my dad is meeting tonight, all the way on the other side of downtown.
That doesn’t stop me from taking a larger-than-normal sip of my drink, my hands shaking ever so slightly.
“You look like you could use something stronger than a G&T,” the man says, his voice low and husky. It takes me a moment before I realize he’s talking to me.
I turn to look at him, relaxing almost immediately. He’s not Lucas; he doesn’t have his jet-black eyes and short, cropped hair. This newcomer looks like he’s maybe thirty, but that doesn’t detract from his air of authority and strength. His clothes are expensive, if rumpled, and there’s just something about the way he carries himself that reminds me of Lucas, with that same subtle hint of darkness and danger. But that’s where the similarities end. His dark hair is longer, almost long enough to brush his collar, and even in the low light, I can make out the color of his eyes: so gray that they’re almost silver. His lean arms are already crossed on the bar, and the button-up shirt he’s wearing does little to hide the fact that he’s a wall of pure muscle... and a drop-dead gorgeous one, at that.
For a moment, I can only stare at him, but then I clear my throat, regaining some semblance of composure. “Spoken like someone who spends a lot of time in this place.”
The man chuckles, a rumbling sound that ripples through me. “Not exactly,” he says, motioning for the bartender and ordering a bourbon on the rocks. When he turns back to me, his gaze is sharp. Scrutinizing. “You?”
“Nope. First time.” I finish my drink. “But it’s nice to know I’m blending in.”
For a moment, I wonder if I’ve said too much, but the man just smiles a crooked and devastatingly handsome smile. “Believe me, you don’t blend in, kid. You stand out.”
“Kid?” I retort, raising my eyebrows. “Did you call me akid?I just turned twenty.”
“Like I said.” He takes a sip of his whiskey, cool as a cucumber. “Kid.”
“Damn.” I can’t help the chuckle that escapes me. “I don’t know whether to be insulted or flattered.”
“I’d go for flattered, if I were you.” The man’s eyes twinkle, that wolfish smirk still on his face. “It suits you.”
I swallow, suddenly aware of how hot my face has gotten. Is it the booze? A minute in and this guy’s already got me blushing like a ditzy schoolgirl... and some part of me is enjoying it.
Easy there, tiger,I remind myself.You’re not here to flirt with strangers. You’re here to wait for Callie.
I straighten up in my chair, turning to face him. “You’re pretty bold. You know that?”
The man shrugs his broad shoulders. “I’m just someone who knows what I want.”
My mouth drops open, and it takes everything I have not to let him see how flustered I am. “And what would that be?” I manage, crossing my arms.
The stranger leans in closer, and I catch a whiff of his cologne, a sweet, spicy scent. “I guess you’ll have to find that out for yourself,” he says in that low, rich voice.
I can only shake my head, still half-dazed by how brazen he’s being. “You’re dangerous,” I say stupidly, my head still spinning from how close he is.
“Some might say so,” the man says as he leans away, and I find myself absurdly wishing he would close the space again. “Can I get you another drink?” he asks. “I meant what I said earlier. You look too wound up for watered-down gin.”
I eye him for a moment, weighing my options. On the one hand, I know I shouldn’t be letting a strange man buy me a drink,especiallyin a place run by our family’s biggest rivals. But on the other, I can’t deny how appealing he is, with his rough-around-the-edges confidence and easy smirk. And I still haven’t heard a peep from Callie... “I’ll take one of those,” I respond finally, pointing to his bourbon.
The stranger leans forward, his knee grazing mine as he nods to the bartender. “You sure about this, kid?” he asks, grinning again as he turns back to me. He’s enjoying this.
