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My father took the moment to dig into the pasta in front of him. I waited for him to continue, his little pause was a power trip that he like to inflict on others. “Dunne.”
“Ronny Dunne?” I clarified.
“He’s been missing for a few weeks. He managed to take about $500,000 with him. We didn’t realize this until a few days ago. He doctored the books pretty well.”
I knew what he was asking of me. And he should’ve known better. Dunne was the accountant for the family. He was at our house every day growing up. He was more like an uncle to me. But I also knew that if he was missing, it was a big deal. Beyond the missing money, Dunne knew a lot about family. He was a liability.
“I understand. Anything else?”
“No.” He turned back to his food at the table dismissing me. Of course, he came calling when he needed my particular skill set, finding missing people and eliminating them. People who were a threat to the family.
Short and sweet but not much of a family dinner.
5
Chapter 5
ANNA
I groaned as I rolled over in bed, feeling both a mix of anticipation and nerves. The soft morning light filtered through the curtains casting a warm glow over my bedspread. A million thoughts were racing through my head. I was both looking forward and not looking forward to this day. The event I had been working my booty off for was here. There was a sense of excitement, the thrill of accomplishment, and this event that I had poured my blood sweat, and tears into was finally here. But the heavy weight of dread, knowing that anything could go wrong lingered. I still had an entire day of rushing and dictating orders in which something could still screw it all up.
I lay in bed and closed my eyes, surrendering myself to the solace of darkness. I let my mind wander to the intense stare of gray. It wasn’t the first time these thoughts had seeped into my mind like a welcome visitor. Since the club, these eyes have appeared in my dreams. I would probably never see him again, but he provided very, very effective material for some more intimate moments. Relaxing, I pictured the brown curls and the muscles rippling underneath me. I succumbed to the embrace of my imagination. My hand made its way from behind my head, down my chest. Pushing my nightshirt above my breasts, the cool air ran over my nipples causing me to shiver. I pressed and pulled, my nipples growing tighter and harder. Further down my fingers trailed, until they hit my patch of hair. My fingers slid down between my legs, rubbing and circling. Every ounce of stress dissipated as my fingers pressed down. The pressure built and my imagination brought forth the sight of a curly brown head as it bobbed between my thighs, his eyes as I imagined his tongue slid through my folds.
I rolled over and grabbed my toy from my nightstand. A mini black vibrator. Turning it on to the highest vibration I pressed it against my mound and my hand goes back to rolling and pinching my nipples. I start thrusting in and out with my toy, rolling over my clit. My fingers were still pinching and pulling. My breaths came rapidly, as Wilder’s name fell as whispers from my lips. My fingers slid with my juices, and I could hear the slick of the toy pounding in and out. The heavy, tingling feeling built up inside my belly. I was so close to coming. I moaned, softly. My stomach tensed up, and my climax hit me.
After the night at the club, I gushed to Alexis about Wilder. We didn’t manage to get too far into introductions; I knew almost nothing about him. But the way he carried himself and commanded the room was so attractive. His full attention was on me. There was an air of danger in his eyes, deftly hidden behind the charm he put forth. I couldn’t quite tell if I should feel uneasy or if feeling exhilarated was wrong. Alexis thought I was reading too much into it. She thought I was overanalyzing the situation, reading too deeply into a mere encounter at a club. She was right though, odds are I would never run into him again in this massive city.
Feeling calm and clear, my nerves dissipated and I rolled out of bed. The morning unfolded as a whirlwind of activity, with the ballroom at the Crown Hotel serving as my main stage. Stepping into the grand space, I marveled at its classic beauty. The Crown Hotel, a treasure, and relic from the 1920s, had been the venue for the annual gala every year. As I made my rounds, confirming arrangements with the caterers and the band, I couldn’t help feeling a sense of satisfaction knowing that everything was falling into place. The ballroom itself was a sight to behold. With its high arched ceiling and magnificent stone walls adorned with shimmery white and black banners, it exuded an air of sophistication. The elegant décor perfectly aligned with this year’s black and white theme, creating an enchanting ambiance that would impress even the veteran gala attendees. Besides the exorbitant ticket price for the meal and event, our big draw was the auction which enticed attendees with once in a lifetime events. Among the coveted prizes were a private event on a luxurious yacht and the opportunity to have a personal cooking lesson with none other than Martha Stewart herself.
After the speeches, the presentation of awards, and the hopefully spirited bidding on the auction items, the lights in the ballroom would turn down low. There would be a soft glow from the twinkling lights stringed up above the dance floor. I was going for a sense of romance and wonder, and honestly, I nailed it. Every detail had been carefully considered to evoke a feeling of intimacy and splendor. This event was a reflection of my passion and dedication to crafting an experience that surpassed all expectations.
Alexis glided into the ballroom with an air of confidence and authority about four o’clock that afternoon and demanded that I leave her to oversee the rest of the setup. I really did need to go home and shower. Maybe take a quick nap before I returned for the evening. Even though this event was my primary concern in my life right now, everything had already been done that could be done.
As I stepped into the familiar surroundings of my apartment, I was able to take a sigh of relief. I took a quick refreshing shower and passed out on the couch. Awaking energized and ready for the night.
I arrived back at the ballroom dressed in a floor length, emerald gown. The back dipped dangerously low and was held up with a choker at my neck. I felt gorgeous and confident, and eager for the night to begin. But the nerves in my stomach darted around when I let my guard down. The press arrived first; they lined the entrance waiting for all the big names to show.
I flitted back and forth across the venue, my green dress trailing behind me, making sure things were being done as they were supposed to. That people were where they were supposed to be, and the flow of events happening as it should.
The evening passed by quickly. My colleagues and guests alike both shared their appreciation for the evening and I felt better about the whole thing. People were enjoying it. Unfortunately, my most dreaded part of the evening arrived when I was expected to thank everyone for the attendance and support as well as introduce the auction and dance portion of the night.
6
Chapter 6
WILDER
I pulled up to the hotel in a limo and walked through the entrance lined with photographers from every news rag in the city. Time to put on that gentlemanly charm. The flashing lights from the cameras and the drizzle coming down from the sky made it an irritable walk inside.
“Wilder, do you have a comment on being named one of the top 20 bachelors of the city?” I glanced towardsthe voice.
I smiled and bowed my head, showing how sheepish and humble I could be. It’s always an act whether I am in front of the cameras or not. “I’m flattered that I was even thought of. Hopefully, the article can bring awareness to the many causes I support, such as the Chicago Humane Society.” I actually did care about many philanthropic issues. I just showed my support for them monetarily. The humane society is one of them. I had a dog when I was growing up. I had named her Missy and besides Levi, she had been my best friend. She kept all of my secrets. My mom had gotten him for me before she left. When I was 12, I came home and she wasn’t waiting at the door for me. I knew better than to ask, but I know my brother had something to do with my dog going missing. He sat down at dinner that night and asked me where she was. But he had that look in his eye like he knew exactly what happened. I knew better than to say anything though. My mom had left by that time and my dad could care less about a dog. I got my revenge for that later, blood for blood.
Unfortunately, the event attracted all the right people. I was stuck shaking hands and making small talk for the cocktail hour and all through the dinner.
“Wilder, it’s good to see you. What have you been up to?” Sitting at the table next to me was a large man with thinning gray hair. Judge Roberts, who had to be at least 70, was sitting redfaced and draped on by a very young woman. I wouldn’t be surprised if she was barely legal.
“Life is going to plan,” I responded. “My father’s business has been very busy lately. Lots of projects to keep an eye on.” I leaned back in my chair and took a sip of my whiskey. I gave him a pointed look and smiled. He gave a quick smile in return and turned back to the girl while his hand slipped up her quite short dress. Judge Roberts had an affinity for gambling as well as high class girls and was a frequent visitor to the back rooms of our clubs. Because of this, he was pretty much in our pocket when we needed a judge in the legal system.
