"Wearing it?" I teased.
"Losing it, to be perfectly honest. Let me know the second you land in D.C. We still have our game with the vibrator to finish."Damn it. She’s going to torture me all the way to Holland.
"Fine. I won't pack much, since you promised to keep me locked in the bedroom anyway."
"That's the plan. You only need three outfits: one for the flight, one in case we actually step outside, and one for the trip home."
"For the rest, I’ll just fill my suitcase with new silk panties. And you can rip every single pair." Her eyes sparked with fire as she bit her lip.
"Goodnight, Kitty."
"Goodnight, Raanee." I caught her final smile just before the screen went dark. I hugged my pillow tight, praying for sleep to come quickly so the countdown could finally begin.
#28
“A liquor store or two keeps the gas tank full. And I feel like there's nothing left to do but prove myself to you and we'll keep it running" - My Chemical Romance
Iknew Megan was on her way to meet Donald because she’d sent a beautiful photo of herself bundled up in a scarf and hat against the biting cold, leaving only her ruby-colored eyes exposed.
I waited, restless, for her to tell me she’d arrived at the office and that she liked the painting. It had taken several delicate conversations with Giorgia’s associates to ensure it was installed before Megan even stepped into the room, a small victory of comfort over her past.
It didn't take long for the text to arrive. She loved the painting and noted that the new office was a sanctuary compared to the "hole" she’d shared with that piece of shit, Peter.
That prick had been relentless, groveling for campaign donations from my team. He’d even gone as far as soliciting funds from representatives of both the Chicago and New York mobs, a move that was inevitably going to blow up in his face.
My fear wasn’t for him, it was that they might try to collect his debts from Megan once he inevitably defaulted.
I decided it was time to move on Giorgia’s proposal to audit the accounts of the nightclub she managed in Brasília. I needed her to wall off Peter permanently.
"Giorgia," I said as soon as her gravelly voice signaled she’d picked up.
"To what do I owe the honor of a call from Ms. Calama?"she replied. She wasn’t going to make this easy. I settled into the armchair of my penthouse office, overlooking the Amstel River. Outside, the trees were skeletal, their branches heavy with the thick snow of a brutal Dutch winter.
"I’ve been thinking about your nightclub."
"Nightclub,"she interrupted, her tone suggesting she was laughing at the formality. "I don’t beat around the bush, Kelsey. If you were anyone else, I would have had your head on a platter a long time ago."
"I’ll look at the paperwork you need. If you like, you can put me in touch with your cousin." I heard her snort; Giorgia didn't discuss family ties outside the inner circle, which only included her and Vanessa. "Yes, Vanessa briefed me on the management and the business as a whole."
"She’s another one who’s only alive because she’s my sister."
"You should get laid, Giorgia. You’re grumpier than usual."
"You shouldn't crack jokes before asking for a favor."
"And what makes you think I’m asking for anything?" I turned my chair, pouring a measure of cognac.
"Because we weren't born yesterday, Calama. Ask. Because I have a demand of my own."
"Megan Woods. I want her protected, specifically from her ex, Peter."
"I already clocked that. And honestly, you have no idea how much fun it is watching a man think he can negotiate with two rival syndicates, only to end up in debt without ever touching a cent of the money."
"They say I have the contacts, but you’re always a step ahead."
"Before you had contacts, I was already doing concierge work for my father. Remember that if you ever think about double-crossing me."
"Betraying you would be betraying Vanessa. That’s not a possibility. Name your price, Giorgia."
