Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 80572 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80572 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
No one is allowed access to the club without using their thumbprint to open the door. Sergio’s rabid about safety. I’ve never seen the door to the club open.
I stare.
In their haste, Gino and Timeo forgot to shut the door. Sergio would murder them with his bare hands and make it a slow and painful death, I have no doubt. But for me? I just found the pot of gold.
I step into the club, my heart pounding, knowing I’m doing something that could get me fired, or… worse.
What would be worse?
I make up my mind, take a deep breath, and shut the door behind me.
I feel so exposed in here, I half expect to find myself standing on a stage or something. But when I look around, I find the lighting’s so dim I can’t see much of anything at all. I stand just inside the doorway, allowing my eyes to adjust to the dimness.
It’s so elegant in here, it takes me a moment to realize I’m staring at a bar as the focal point of the center of the club. Of course, I’ve never been to a bar, but I know what it is.
The interior design of this place is immaculate, with sleek lines and muted colors. It’s warm and inviting, the lighting soft and subtle. The floor’s highly polished wood and the bar itself is a masterpiece of stunning marble, the stools around wrapped in leather. The bottles of alcohol are lined up like jewels, glimmering beneath the light of an overhead chandelier. The bartenders—one man and one woman—are dressed in matching crisp white shirts and dress pants. They look friendly and charming, and any other time, even though I don’t drink, I’d want to order one just to see it pour into the glass.
Circular tables are nestled next to the bar, only a few occupied. A couple sits at one, feasting on several of the foods I’ve cooked personally.
The seating is plush and inviting, from the leather-wrapped bar stools to the comfortable armchairs arranged around the tables. Behind one of the armchairs, an electric fireplace flickers against a black backsplash. Music plays in the background, enhancing the sophisticated but welcoming ambiance. I don’t know what I expected to find given Sergio’s order forbidding me to enter, but it certainly wasn’t this.
I push away my need to explore and immerse myself in the goal of finding Timeo or Gino in this refined, luxurious setting.
I look around. They’re nowhere to be found.
Great.
I don’t know why I’m so worried about Sergio. I can’t reconcile my fear, and I can’t even let myself think it’s because I care about him.
He’s dangerous and attractive and wealthy. I’m painfully innocent, humble, and broke. We’re complete opposites.
I can’t care about him. I’m married. I can’t get involved with a man, despite the fact that I’ve left Seth.
I need to save my sister.
I hold my head up and pretend I’m supposed to be here. At first, I fear that I’ll look like I don’t belong, until I realize that while some of the clients sitting at the bar and tables may look wealthy and refined, there are some that… do not.
Two men sit at a table in the far corner, and I’m not sure if the light’s playing tricks on me or not, but one looks like he has… a tail?
Another group, one man with two women, sit at tables beside them, and one of the women is actually wearing handcuffs around her wrists while the other holds a slim chain in her hand that’s attached to the other’s collar.
Um. What?
I can’t tear my eyes away. I couldn’t look away if I tried. Somewhere in the dark recesses of my mind I try to remember that there’s a big problem with me being here that’s not going to end well for me, but I can’t seem to turn away.
So this is what Sergio’s been hiding? He’s kept me away from… this?
Why?
I slink behind the bar and search out the darkest places of the club to stick to, hoping and praying that no one will see me or talk to me. So far, it seems like everyone here is completely uninterested in me.
The female bartender, a buxom redhead with her hair in a messy bun, shakes her head when talking to the other bartender.
“They’re at the hospital now, but you know Sergio.”
I stop, listening.
“I do,” the man says on a laugh, shaking his head. “He isn’t gonna be held there for long. Probably already got out.”
My emotions nearly choke me.
He’s okay. Relief floods me so quickly I’m faint. I close my eyes and breathe in deeply to steady myself, right before the second thought hits me with the force of a two-by-four.
He may be on his way back here now.
Uh oh.
I move past them and see a hallway that’s dark, but I hear the sound of dance music. I walk toward the sound when Gino walks by me.