It’s the main reason I’ve only had one serious boyfriend and only had sex with two men.
Father is controlling as fuck. It’s his form of OCD. One part of me understands it. His wealth and his notoriety draw all kinds of crazies, and he won’t take any chances with his family. My sisters and my mother have designated bodyguards too, and Father travels with an entourage of two or three bodyguards. But sometimes, it seems like overkill, and I wonder how much of it has to do with my safety and how much with him knowing every aspect of my life and manipulating me so he’s the one in control, not me.
He doesn’t understand why I’m not obedient like my sisters. Why I fight him on practically everything. He cannot grasp the concept I have my own plans, my own ambitions, and I want to forge my own path in life. I don’t want to work for the family business like Saskia and Serena, and he went apeshit when I refused to enroll in the same business program my sisters attended at U of C. He threatened to disown me when I applied to study biomedical science with my sights set on alternative therapy as a chosen career, but Mom talked him into it.
“Earth to Sierra.” Pen clicks her fingers in my face. “You spaced out, girlfriend.”
“I did, but I’m back now.” We almost slam into Esme’s back as she stops unexpectedly. We are mere feet from the man, but he’s engrossed in conversation with a bunch of dudes in suits, and I don’t think barging our way in there will help Esme’s cause.
“That conversation looks pretty heated,” Esme says, keeping one eye on her target as she glances quickly at us.
“We should take that as our cue to leave.” Pen makes one final effort.
“I’m not wasting this opportunity.” A look of determination ghosts over Esme’s face. It’s a look I’m well-versed in. “I just have to time it carefully.”
“Let’s wait over there,” I suggest, pointing at an empty high table just behind the men. “That way, he can’t leave without us seeing.”
“Good idea.” She bobs her head vigorously, leading me around the men. Of course, she makes sure to stare at them as we pass, because subtlety and Esme donotgo hand in hand. I look straight ahead, not wanting any of them to think I have any interest. From the brief glimpses I’ve seen, they are all way older, like my father’s age, and the thought of any of them touching me makes my skin crawl. Esme has a thing for older guys, but they are not usuallythatold.
Esme slides onto one of the stools, strategically choosing the one which faces the men, while Pen and I claim the other two seats, happy to have our backs to them. We put our drinks down, talking in hushed tones for a few minutes, while Esme pointedly stares at the guy she has set her sights on.
“You’re being obvious,” Pen says.
“That’s the point,” I reply before Esme can.
“Exactly.” Esme grins. “He’s locked eyes with me a couple times, so it’s working.” She drinks noisily through her straw while maintaining eye contact over our shoulders. “And we’re on,” she adds, pulling her shoulders back, her grin expanding. “He’s coming this way.” She slants us a cautionary look. “Let me do the talking. ’Kay?”
“Trust me,” I say, finishing my drink. “He’s all yours.”
2
SIERRA
“Hello, ladies.” His deep, rich voice fills my ears while his breath fans the side of my face, and I automatically stiffen, straightening my spine as I stare straight ahead, refusing to look at him. Heat rolls off his body in noxious waves, and I jolt when his arm brushes against mine. Doesn’t he understand the concept of personal space? And why is he standing so close tome? It’s not like I’m the one eye-fucking him these past ten minutes.
“Hello to you too.” Esme’s broad smile drips confidence, and she doesn’t shy away from holding his gaze.
“Are you enjoying my club?” he inquires, confirming heisthe owner. I hope that’s all Esme is right about though.
“Very much so,” she replies. “This place is amazing.”
“And your friends?” he inquires.
The air distorts as he repositions himself directly in front of me, forcing me to look up. Eyes as dark as night latch onto mine with immediate interest, and I smother my shocked gasp as he blatantly checks me out.
My assumptions were correct—he is definitely older. At least forty. It’s hard to pin an age on him because his face is badly scarred and his skin is riddled with pockmarks. His Armani suit is tight-fitting, hiding little, and I can tell he is built but lean.
He lifts a brow, waiting for a reply. I’m not sure he’s even noticed Pen, and considering she’s mute and motionless beside me, it’s up to me to answer him. “We are having a great night. Thank you,” I say, hating how intensely he’s scrutinizing my face.
“It’s Sierra’s twenty-first birthday,” Esme supplies, and I shoot daggers at her. What the actual fuck? Why would she tell him that?
“Is that right?” he asks, maintaining eye contact with me. His eyes actually aren’t black; they are a very deep shade of brown, but they are completely unnerving. The intensity of his probing gaze is like nothing I’ve encountered before, and I’m trembling inside. The man screams power and danger, and my internal alarm system is going crazy, urging me to run away. There is no disguising the hunger in his gaze as he drinks me in from head to toe, and it only adds to my anxiety.
I give him a curt nod, squirming in my seat, hugely uncomfortable with his singular attention. Didn’t his mother ever tell him it’s rude to stare?
Lifting his arm, he clicks his fingers, still staring at me like his eyes are glued to mine and he has no control over it. A waiter immediately approaches. “A bottle of our finest champagne for the beautiful birthday girl and her pretty friends,” he demands.
“Coming right up, Mr. Salerno. Sir.” The waiter scuttles off, looking petrified, and I know how he feels.
