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“You’re a red-blooded male. You need sex.” I don’t bother to tell him that guilt is eating me alive, and I can’t bring myself to take one bit of pleasure. I don’t fucking deserve it.
Raven joins us, glowing after her morning run. “What are you doing today?” I ask.
She shrugs, grabbing a bagel and taking a big bite. I love that she eats well. She isn’t the sort of girl to shy away from a good meal because she’s with a guy. “Job hunting. Maybe.”
“Maybe?” I repeat.
“Vinn didn’t let me fully quit last night. He told me to take a break.”
Before I can argue, the door crashes open, and Gia comes in holding a newspaper. She shoves it towards Riggs, who scans it before raising his brows. “Have you spoken to Vinn?” he asks her, and she shakes her head.
“What’s wrong?” Raven asks.
Gia hands her the newspaper, and she lays it out on the table. There’s a large picture of Vinn and the headline reads, London, Big Dreams or Little Lies?
“You may as well read it out,” says Gia.
Raven clears her throat and begins, “London, the place where all your dreams come true—or is it? The truth is, London is a big, scary place. Take it from someone who knows. From the busy streets to the flashing night lights, London has it all going on. And on the surface, everything looks so glamorous. Take the nightclubs. Everyone who is anyone knows of Enzo’s nightclub. Just to look at that place makes my bank balance shake.
“But if you delve deep enough, if you look past the crystal chandeliers and mirrors, you see the special handshakes where men in suits pass their drugs to eager young people, desperate to get off their heads and forget about their stressful London jobs and the high cost of living. You see the owner, Vincent Romano, strutting around the place like he’s the king, and, boy, do they treat him like one. I often wonder if men like him are overcompensating for something else . . .
“Women fall at his feet, and if you’re pretty enough, he’ll pin a gold badge on you that tells everyone in the club that you are his VIP guest. And who wouldn’t want that? Endless champagne, and not the cheap stuff, as much white powder as your nose can take, the attention of your very own crime lord . . . every woman’s dream, right? Wrong! Drinking in clubs like Enzo’s undermines the very thing us women have fought for. Emmeline Pankhurst would stuff Romano’s gold pin right where the sun doesn’t shine! And who would blame her?
“It’s hard to believe places still exist where, if you’re young, pretty, and flash a little flesh, you’ll be treated like a princess. London will swallow you whole if you let it, so look past the flashing lights and special invites and don’t lose focus on your dream. After all, we all want to live the dream, right?”
“Ouch. Someone doesn’t like Vinn,” says Leia.
“Lots of people don’t like Vinn,” says Chains with a grin. “Mac, did you do this?” he adds, laughing.
“Seriously, he’ll go mad when he sees this,” Raven says, folding it up and tucking it under her arm. “I’m gonna go into the office and see if he needs me to do anything.”
“I don’t think it’s a good idea,” I begin, but she’s already out the door.
“I know he’s my brother,” says Gia, taking a seat beside me, “but I’m rooting for you and Raven. He has to marry Sofia, and Raven deserves a man who can give her one hundred percent.”
“Oh, it’s not like that,” I begin, but she smiles, patting my hand.
“Of course, it is, you just don’t know it yet.”
