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Right on time.
6
NICCOLÒ
It’s cute that she probably thinks I have no idea that she’s sitting over there with that god-awful jet-black wig on. I knew it was her from the moment I walked in. She may have tried her hand at an amateur disguise, but she sucks at it.
I’ve just been biding my time, knowing asshole Greco is going to walk in at nine o’clock on the dot for his service, and what do you know? He does.
I sit with a view of Evelina as a topless dancer’s ass shakes inches from my face. I shove a few bills into her thong and admire her body. She’s fit. But she’s no Evelina. I much prefer the foxy fucking thing sitting in the corner booth pretending to be someone she’s not.
I lean forward as the dancer shimmies away after giving me a smile, and my eyes stay hooked on Evelina’s death glare aimed discreetly at her husband’s retreating form. He walks directly to our lounge area in the back of the club, making no stops for pleasantries.
Finally making my move, I head over to her booth and slide in just as she tries to leave.
I can’t control the satisfied smirk that plays out on my face as her eyes grow wide.
“That wig looks like total fucking shit, sweets,” I say, and she immediately rolls her eyes at me, placing her head in her hands for a moment and rubbing her temples before collecting herself.
Suddenly she snaps her head up, and I swear to fucking god there’s fire burning in her green eyes.
“I’m not your fucking sweets, Niccolò.”
Fuck, she’s feisty. I love a woman who bites.
She looks kinda like she belongs in a psych ward between her hairdo and the wild look dancing in her eyes.
I tilt my head to the side and take her in. Underneath that garbage wig and behind the heavy makeup she’s put on, she’s still the most gorgeous woman in any room. I think she knows it too, even if she’d never say it out loud.
“Yeah, you’re right,” I say. “Not anything sweet about you. You’re more of a viper, aren’t you?”
Something else flickers in her eyes, and she pulls her bottom lip between her teeth.
Yeah, still somehow so fucking beautiful.
What I wouldn’t give to bite down on that lip myself.
“You think you’re just so hilarious, don’t you?” she asks, shaking her head.
She moves to stand up, and I immediately follow, rising from the booth and blocking her path to the door. I take her in from head to toe. Fucking little viper looks like a badass. Black combat boots, black leather pants, and a deep black V-neck that shows off her perfect fucking tits. She’s a woman after my own heart, considering my wardrobe is all black everything.
“Do you enjoy this?” she asks with a scoff. “I mean, do you really fucking enjoy this? You do, don’t you? You love the fact that you’ve just proven me wrong, huh?”
She places both hands on her hips, and I fucking ache to pick her up and throw her over my shoulder.
Teach her she doesn’t get to speak to me in that way.
But for some reason, it kinda turns me on, too. She’s fucking scrappy.
Fucking Christ.
“That’s what I thought,” she says. “It’s sick how much you’re enjoying this right now. Look at that stupid smile on your face. You get off on ruining a woman’s life. On showing her the man she chose to marry is a piece of shit and rubbing salt in a wound you know won’t close.”
She shrugs exasperatedly as I shake my head and chuckle at her tenacity.
“This is my life. This is what I’m living with—no way out. I’m so glad this is entertainment for you.” She walks around me toward the door, but I grab ahold of her forearm and spin her back around. “Get your fucking hands off of me, Niccolò. You’ve proved your point.”
“The only thing I’m getting off on is how fucking powerful you look right now.” I pull her into my chest as I look down at her and watch her inhale a sharp intake of air. “You look like the woman I imagine you were before he sank his filthy fucking claws into you. A feisty fucking woman who takes no shit.”
