Let them stare. Let them glower and take in every hard angle of my menacing form. I’m not here for them. I’m here forher.
It doesn’t take long to spot the king and queen of the night, and my steps move toward them of their own accord. But as I draw closer, Selene Romano’s red hair pulls a genuine grin across my face.
Hmm…so that’s where their daughter gets her fire.
Stella Romano. Her name alone tastes like the most decadent honey rolling on the tip of my tongue.
I’m not the type of man who is easily swayed by a pretty face, but even I have to admit that when Stella stormed into my club—all fury and flame—she caught my attention.
If my grandmother’s bracelet hadn’t been the reason for her visit, I might have taken my time to persuade her to stay at theclub a little longer. Just long enough to pull her to my bed, to watch her red hair splayed across my pillow, my tattooed hand at her throat, those emerald eyes glassy staring back at me with want.
Still, the moment I saw that bracelet on the phone of her pesky brother, everything changed. I couldn’t let her, or her brothers, see how it rattled me. So I did what I do best. I hid the truth behind a smirk. Every tease, every provocation was just a distraction, a way to mask the storm brewing under my skin. Even if that hadn’t been the case, I’m not foolish enough to act on my impulses.
Stella is far too young. Too forbidden. Too dangerous a toy to play with. And yet, remembering how her cherry-red hair brought a translucent light to my somber club, I can’t pretend the temptation isn’t there.
Yes, Stella Romano leaves quite an impression. Even when she shouldn’t.
My thoughts of his daughter fade the moment Vincent’s eyes find mine. He ends his conversation with practiced ease, waiting for the couple to drift off before finally acknowledging my presence.
“Petrov,” he greets, his tone guarded. “What an unwelcome surprise. I’m not used to seeing you at events like these.”
“Romano.” I offer a curt nod in greeting before flashing a smile at his pretty little wife. “And this must be the famous Selene Romano I’ve heard so much about.” I reach for her hand, intending to brush a kiss across her knuckles, but Vincent is quick to step forward, blocking my attempt.
“Why are you here, Kirill?”
“For the same reason you are, I’m sure.” I offer him a shark-like grin. “I’ve lived in this city for the past four years now, and not once have I made the society pages. I thought it was time Iremedied that fact. After all, it seems to have done wonders for your family.”
“I see. So you’re chasing an ego boost?”
“Oh, I’m chasing something alright,” I answer, my gaze shifting to the blonde girl pressed against Selene’s side.
Hmm. This must be their youngest. Annamaria, if memory serves. Unlike Stella, whose hair dares to defy, this one is all innocence and composure. Too demure. Too saintly. Far too sweet for my taste.
“And what exactly are you chasing?” Vincent presses, bringing my attention back to him.
“I’ll tell you when I find it. Have a lovely evening. Ladies, a pleasure.” And with a taunting smirk, I slip away.
I can feel Vincent’s eyes bore a hole in the back of my head as I slip toward the bar at the end of the room.
Good. My mission is to get into his orbit, but it can’t look like that’s my goal.
Rome wasn’t built in a day, and neither is my plan to infiltrate the Romano world. I’ll have to be discreet while remaining close enough to stay on Vincent’s radar. It’s a tightrope I’ll have to walk carefully on if I want answers.
One way or another, I’ll find my way in. For tonight, just putting myself in his line of sight will be enough to pique his curiosity. He’ll come to me. Not the other way around.
I turn down the offer of bubbly champagne and order vodka instead. After downing a shot, I roam through the ballroom, watching… waiting… biding my time until Vincent comes and finds me.
I decide to head upstairs toward the balcony so the mafia boss can get a better view of me. Unfortunately, I don’t get far. Halfway up the stairs, a woman in a backless gold gown slides into my path, halting my next step. Her veneer smile alone tellsme she’s one of those high-society types who thinks a last name is currency.
“There you are,” she purrs, resting her hand on my sleeve. “I’ve been looking all over for the man who’s got this party in a frenzy. You’re all everyone’s talking about.”
“Am I now?” I retort, pulling my arm away from her unwanted touch.
“Mmm.” She hums with a flirty smile, not the least bit dismayed. “Everyone knows everyone at these parties, so when a new face shows up, it’s only natural that everyone wants to know who they are. Especially a face like yours.” Her gaze dips to the ink on my neck and hands before lifting back to my eyes. She then extends her hand with a practiced flourish. “Kim Hardgraves, at your disposal.”
I glance at her hand but don’t take it, much less kiss it. Her painted smile dips in confusion, but she recovers quickly.
“I’m the governor’s stepdaughter,” she continues, her voice lifting with pride. “So I know my way around a room. I’d be more than happy to show you around and introduce you to the right people. Though,” she continues, her lashes fluttering, “it would help if I knew your name.”
