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I wanted just once to be cared for.
To be loved.
To be treated with kindness, instead of being used.
Tears slipped from my eyes as I pushed upwards. Hate slithered through my veins. They took from me, even without their touch on my skin, they still took. They robbed me of my own pleasure, stole not just my innocence, but my future as well.
There wasn’t a part of me that wasn’t tainted by them.,
No part of me that wasn’t ruined in one way or another.
I had nothing. Iwasnothing, nothing but a possession, Athingto own.
I had to get out of here, had to get out of this goddamn apartment before the walls closed in on me. I strode into my room and changed into a skirt and top before yanking on thick, faux-fur-lined coat and headed for the elevator and out of the building.
“Ms. VanHalen.” The guard glanced up as the elevator opened.
“Don’t…” I croaked, as tears slipped from my eyes. “Just leave me the hell alone.”
He said nothing, but still, he followed as I pushed out the doors. The brutal gusts of wind slammed into me, pushing me backwards. I stumbled, then caught myself. Anger burned inside me as I gritted my teeth, set my focus on the building in the distance, and pushed forward.
Dark gray clouds only grew darker as I made my way toward the building they calledNightlife.The building was further back on the island, and was for those who preferred to learn their lessons in chips and flesh. If I was being honest, part of me hoped Lazarus would be there again. I lowered my head, driving my body forward, and breathed with relief as I stepped out of the gusts and under the cover of the building. The guard’s footsteps resounded behind me, but I tried to ignore him and slammed the card on the sensor.
The doors opened and I was inside, and in an instant, the outside world just faded away.
I stepped into the elevator and rode all the way to the penthouse floor. The blinds were drawn and dimness reigned. Up here, there was only the money and the greed and everything else just didn't exist. At the far end of the suite was a fully stocked bar, and right now I needed a drink desperately.
The baby…
The voice in the back of my mind whispered. But right now, it was either lose my sanity or quell the roar. Just one drink wouldn’t hurt. Now a drink and I’ll ease that ache inside me. I clutched the warm jacket around me and strode toward the glistening crystal tumblers and top shelf liquor.
“Need help?”
I turned to find a blond Irish Mafia son striding toward me. “From you? No.”
“Ouch,” he muttered without even a twitch in his eyes.
“Bruno, right?” I taunted, grabbed a bottle of ice-cold Grey Goose from the upright freezer, and unscrewed the cap.
“Bernardi,” he acknowledged with a nod. “Ms. VanHalen.”
I just chuckled and shook my head. “So you know who I am. Gonna try to hit on me now?”
“No fucking way,” he answered carefully. “I quite like my head on my shoulders.”
“Yeah?” I grabbed a glass and turned. “You think I’m that dangerous, huh?”
He took a step forward, stopping just before he passed me. “It’s not you I’m wary of, Kat,” he said with a wink.
Then he left, leaving me alone with a wide range of confusion. He made his way over to a table, a seat already waiting, five-thousand-dollar chips lined up in a row. He lifted his gaze as he sat and gave me a cheeky fucking grin and another wink.
I swallowed the vodka and relaxed as it burned its way down, watching him with interest. Another male at the table turned his head toward me, not a Mafia son, but one of their protectors. He watched me carefully, but there was nothing sexual in his gaze. If anything, he was just as careful about his scrutiny as Bruno was. Someone had warned them off me.
It didn’t take a genius to figure out who that was.
Lazarus.My protector. Another swallow of the ice-cold burn and something inside me trembled with desire. My pulse raced at the thought of him warning the others away. There was something delicious about that. Something safe…andstrong.The other male at the table tore his gaze away and didn't look at me again.
Only Bruno did, watching me carefully.
