This was it.She was about to face Max—alone.And she had no idea whether that would be better or worse than enduring the rest of the night by Enzo’s side.
Enzo puffed up like the overconfident little pig that he was, his chest swelling with self-satisfaction.“See?”he hissed in Lexie’s ear, his breath hot and rank, making her want to pull away.“Told ya I’d get the attention of the big boss with you on my arm.”
He adjusted his cheap tie with a cocky grin, the garish paisley pattern clashing horribly with the rest of his outdated ensemble.The leather jacket he’d chosen for the evening was as much a crime as his manners, the worn material more suited to a second-rate thug than a guest in a room full of sharp suits and tailored elegance.Compared to the other men in their sleek, tailored suits, Enzo looked like a walking, talking mafia cliché—the very image of a “Vito” from a bad gangster film.
But as Ramone stepped closer, the smug smile on Enzo’s face faltered.The assistant’s voice was calm, professional, and clipped.“Just Ms.Stacias,” he said, lifting a hand to halt Enzo’s attempted step forward.
Enzo froze, his expression flickering from self-satisfied to scowling in an instant.“What do you mean, ‘just Ms.Stacias?’”he demanded, his voice rising slightly as his ego began to deflate.He shot Ramone a glare, but the taller man didn’t so much as flinch.
Ramone didn’t bother repeating himself.Instead, he gestured smoothly for Lexie to follow him, motioning across the center of the room—a path that, Lexie realized with growing dread, would draw the attention of the entire room.
Enzo seemed to brighten, his twisted logic convincing him that Lexie’s solo summons was somehow a reflection of his own influence.“Ah, he wants her to prep him, right?”Enzo mused aloud, nodding to himself.“I’ll bet he’s gonna ask her opinion about me.Yeah, that’s it.Gotta make sure the boss gets the right impression.”
But Lexie wasn’t listening.Her focus was on Ramone, her voice barely a whisper as she leaned toward him.“Could I… could I please walk that way?”she murmured, gesturing toward the outer edge of the ballroom instead of the direct route Ramone had indicated.Her voice quivered slightly, though she tried to keep it steady.She didn’t care if Enzo heard her—her only goal was to stay as inconspicuous as possible.It was already humiliating enough to be in this absurd pink satin excuse of a dress; walking through the middle of the room felt like walking to her execution.
Ramone’s eyes met hers, and for a moment, she thought she saw a flicker of sympathy.But then his neutral mask snapped back into place.“Of course,” he replied.
Enzo’s smile disappeared entirely, frustration twisting his face into an ugly scowl.“What the hell is this?”he muttered, his voice low and bitter.“I’m the one who brought her here.I’m the one who—”
“Stay here,” Ramone ordered, his tone cutting through Enzo’s growing protest like a knife.The command was issued with a quiet authority that left no room for argument.
Enzo fumed, his lips curling into a sneer as he crossed his arms over his chest.“Fine,” he grumbled, more to himself than anyone else.“But he’s making a mistake.”
Lexie swallowed hard, catching the resentment brewing in Enzo’s glare.She knew his frustration wasn’t just at being left behind—it was also directed at her, as though she’d orchestrated this to purposefully undermine him.She forced herself to take a deep breath, straighten her shoulders, and stepped forward, even as her knees threatened to buckle.Each step across the marble floor felt heavier than the last, the weight of Max’s furious gaze making it impossible to ignore the impending confrontation.
She’d only made it two steps before Enzo’s hand shot out, his stubby fingers gripping her arm with enough force to make her wince.He pinched her as he tugged her back a step.“Tell Max I want a private word,” he demanded.“Convince him to speak with me.”
His gaze burned with a mix of desperation and threat, silently warning her of what he would do if she failed to make that private conversation happen.There was a glint of something darker in his expression—an unspoken reminder that he still held the upper hand in this twisted arrangement.
Lexie wanted to jerk her arm away, but the grip he had on her was unyielding, his fingers digging deeper into her already bruised skin.She swallowed the sharp protest that bubbled up in her throat, biting back the urge to scream at him for grabbing her.She was beyond sick of it—the way he laid his hands on her whenever he pleased, like she was some accessory he owned rather than a person with her own boundaries.
And the pinches hurt.She could already feel the bruises forming, shadowy reminders of his audacity that she’d have to deal with come morning.
“I’ll see what I can do,” she whispered.She refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing just how much he was hurting her.Then she looked pointedly down at her arm, her eyes flicking to his hand in a silent demand that he release her.
Enzo hesitated briefly, as if weighing whether or not to keep asserting his dominance.Finally, he released her with a grudging grunt, his fingers lingering just long enough to leave a phantom ache behind.“Don’t screw this up, Lexie,” he hissed, straightening his tie with a jerky movement.“I’ve got some big ideas Max needs to hear.Ways the organization can run smoother.Better profits, better control, better everything.”
He puffed out his chest again, the ridiculous bravado of his words almost laughable if it weren’t so pathetic.“Max’ll listen to me once you put in the good word.Tell him I’ve been watching the way things run, and I’ve got solutions.Efficiency, Lexie.That’s what he needs.And I’m the guy to deliver it.”
Lexie almost laughed at the absurdity of it.Enzo couldn’t even manage his own wardrobe, let alone an entire criminal organization.But there was no time for sarcastic remarks or eye-rolls now.She simply nodded, trying to placate him enough to get away.“I’ll… mention it,” she murmured, taking a careful step forward, her arm still tingling where his fingers had dug in.
As she turned toward Ramone, her heart pounded in her chest.The last thing she wanted to do was act as Enzo’s mouthpiece, but refusing him outright would only make things worse.For now, she’d have to navigate the tension between Max’s anger and Enzo’s demands—and hope she didn’t get crushed in between.
She followed Ramone, her heels clicking against the marble floor with a rhythm that only seemed to amplify her nerves.She kept her head down, hoping to avoid the curious stares of the other guests.Unfortunately, the stupid, bright pink dress made her about as inconspicuous as a neon sign, and she could feel eyes on her as she made her way toward the other end of the room.Max stood there, talking with a small group of sharply dressed individuals who exuded wealth and power.Just the sight of him made her a little lightheaded with a mix of anticipation and dread.
Lexie had no idea what this party was for, but she felt utterly ridiculous in the satin band-aid Enzo had forced her to wear.If she could find some way—any way—to free herself from his blackmail, she would do it in a heartbeat.Especially if it meant no longer being paraded around in outfits that made her look like a caricature of a bimbo.The humiliation of the dress alone was almost worse than the threat hanging over her head.
She clenched her jaw, forcing her thoughts away from Max and the sharp cut of his suit that she’d glimpsed from across the room.Instead, she latched onto a distraction.Maybe she could hire someone to hack into Enzo’s phone, wipe the incriminating videos, and end this nightmare once and for all.She had no idea how much a good hacker would cost, but surely there was someone out there who could do it.She had some money saved up, and even though dipping into her retirement accounts would be a painful hit, it might be worth it.The alternative—those videos getting out—was unthinkable.
Lexie’s heart squeezed at the thought of losing her job.The idea of walking into her classroom and seeing her students’ faces after such a scandal was mortifying.If the videos ever went public, she’d be finished—not just at this school, but anywhere.And what then?Teaching was her life.Nothing compared to the excitement of seeing a teenager’s face light up when they finally “got” the hidden symbolism in a book or beamed with pride after turning in an essay they’d poured their heart into.
The thought made her chest ache, so she latched onto something even smaller to keep herself distracted.Essays.She really needed to start grading those papers she’d collected today.If she woke up extra early tomorrow, she could knock out a good chunk of them and finish the rest on Sunday.She mentally began organizing her plan, thinking about which essays to tackle first—
Her thoughts skidded to a halt when she realized she was only a few feet away from Max.Ramone had stopped, stepping to the side to let her pass.Her breath caught in her throat, and all the nervous energy she’d been trying to bury surged back to the surface.A year.It had been a year since she’d last seen him.And now here she was, wrapped in a horrible pink dress, about to face him in front of a room full of people who were already watching her every move.
Her palms dampened, and her pulse raced, but there was no turning back now.Taking a deep breath, Lexie straightened her spine and stepped forward, willing herself to focus on anything other than the furious storm she knew she’d find in Max’s eyes.
“Lexie,” a deep, velvety voice broke through her tangled thoughts, instantly commanding her attention.That voice sent a familiar shiver down her spine, the kind that had once made her feel safe, cherished, and entirely too vulnerable.Now, it only made her stomach churn with nerves.
