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He raises a brow and gives me a boyish grin, his hand going into the inner pocket of his designer suit jacket. I notice a tease of a tattoo sticking out beneath his cuff as he pulls out the little baggie of white powder.
Leaning back in, his breath hits my cheek. “So, do you have a big night planned?”
Bingo.
“Yes.” I bite my bottom lip and play my role, batting my lashes at him.
He takes a step back, his eyes roaming my body. He runs a hand over his stubble and lets out a ragged breath, his glance flicking to the bathroom. The now bodyguard-less bathroom.
“Not here.” His voice is low.
He holds out his hand, but I hesitate for a second. His green eyes pierce into me, making me feel weird things in my chest.
Fuck it. If it means I can be numb again for the night, I’m taking it.
The second our palms connect, a spark flies, enough for me to try to jerk my hand back. But he doesn’t let me, he just squeezes it tighter.
I follow his lead towards the bathroom. Not my place of choice, but it’ll do for now. Excitement courses through me.
“Hey, what’s your name?” I ask out of curiosity.
“Luca.”
He doesn’t look at me, he just walks us through the little hallway towards the fire escape. As he goes to push open the door, I ask, “Don’t you want to know mine?”
He turns back to me and raises his brow.
“I don’t need to ask. I know.Miss Rosa Francesca Falcone.”
I stop in my tracks, looking him up and down again.
The power, the suit, the Italian look.
“Shit,” I whisper.
“Yes, shit indeed,” he exhales and turns to face me.
His eyes bore into mine. Gone is the grin, the playfulness.
Panic chokes my words. “Please don’t do this. I can speak to my dad. Whatever it is you want, he can give you–”
“Too late for that.” He cuts me off, opening the door and dragging me out. The shock of daylight burns my eyes. As the glare fades, I spot blood splattered on the ground. “No!” I see Bobby’s lifeless body behind the dumpster next to me.
Before I can take a lungful of air to scream, a hand clamps over my face from behind, smothering me. I flail around as much as I can, fighting for breath. But I give in, my life isn’t worth fighting for.
CHAPTERFIVE
luca
Irun a hand through my hair as I watch Grayson put an unconscious Rosa in the back of Frankie’s car. The fear in those big dark eyes of hers didn’t give me the thrill I thought it would.
“Boss, let’s go!” Grayson shouts and taps the top of his car, startling me from watching Frankie speed off with Rosa.
I read through the notes that Grayson gave me, and I stared at her pictures for days. Grayson wasn’t lying when he said there were men lining up for her. When I walked up behind her tonight, seeing her in the flesh, I realized the pictures didn’t do her justice. She was dressed up with her long jet-black hair cascading down her back almost to her perfect, round ass. But when she turned to face me and her full red lips brushed against my cheek, my heart actually fucking fluttered.
So much so, I actually debated whether there was time to take her in the bathroom on the way out. I forgot who I was and what I was doing.
I wipe my sweaty palms on my pants and head over to Grayson to slip in the passenger seat of his Audi.
