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11
DANTE
She’s insane.
She’s certifiablyinsane.
It’s not like I’ve ever once thought of Tempest in the brief time I’ve known her as rational, cautious or anywherenearsomeone who, oh, I don’t know, thinks literally anything through,ever. I mean she’s fucking chaos personified, despite being so tiny.
But this is too much.
Club music pounds through my chest, the dazzling blue and pink lights of the place flickering in time to the beat as I prowl through the crowd. I know they’re here because Lorenzo rarelydoesn’tknow where my sister is, and Bianca was a last-minute invitee to Tempest’s bachelorette party.
I ignore two club girls who throw themselves at me, grinning with drug-fueled energy and powdery noses. Pushing past them with a low growl and my jaw set, I shove my way through more sweaty dancers until I get to the staircase that leads up to the VIP booths and rooms that ring the perimeter of the top floor.
It’s no Club Venom, but Doomsday, the Cold War-themed clubI’m barging my way through does have pretty tight security, being that it’s a popular celebrity hangout.
That said, the two bouncers at the bottom of the stairs nod when they see me and instantly step aside.
So sue me: I know the owner and called ahead.
Upstairs, I immediately catch sight of the group I’m after, dancing around in a glass room overlooking the DJ booth: Tempest, Bianca, Fumi Yamaguchi, who’s one of Crown and Black’s top lawyers, and Elsa Guin, another of their top attorneys, who happens to be married to Hades Drakos, of the Drakos Greek mafia family.
They’re all in head-to-toe black.
Like a fucking funeral.
How cute.
Trust Tempest to throw up a middling finger at every conceivable opportunity. And there’s the blushing bride herself, dancing to the music thudding through the club, her bare arms up in the air and the skin-tight black dress clinging to every single…
Fuck.
I don’t realize I’ve stopped walking and that I’m just standing there outside the room staring at Tempest until it’s been…longer than it should have been. My eyes wander over her gyrating hips, the swell of her breasts in the tight dress. The way her dark hair tumbles down her back, and the way her ass…
Yeah, this has to stopnow.
I’m marrying her to save my empire, to keep my club, and because that little fucking hurricane in theretricked me into it.
Notbecause I want to watch her gyrate exactly like this while my cock is buried to the hilt in her tight little cunt.
“Dante.”
I flinch, thoughts of Tempest scattering as I turn, locking eyes with Taylor Crown.
Contrary to what I let Tempest wonder about, no, I’ve never once slept with my attorney. Nor have I ever wanted to. Not because powerful, intelligent women scare me.
Because you don’tfuckyour goddamn attorney.
She’s also simply not my type, and plus, we’ve got a good relationship professionally…and as friends of a sort, I suppose.
“What the fuck were you thinking getting into this with that girl?”
I arch a brow. Ialsolike Taylor because she’s completely fine throwing my shit in my face. And that’s not something I get much of.
“Don’t pretend for a second that Alistair and Gabriel haven’t filled you in on every single detail,” I mutter. “You know damn well how it happened.”
Taylor eyes me, shaking her head as she shoves her fingers through her long red hair. “I know, but honestly, Dante. She’s twenty-four.”
