Persia
The black SUV glides to a stop in front of the Redthorne building, and I find myself staring up at the same glass and steel tower I fled to seven nights ago when my world first started crumbling.
The irony isn't lost on me. The last time I walked through these doors, I was promised to one monster, and now I'm committed to another. Only, this one wears his danger like a second skin and looks at me like I'm worth the value of this city and more.
Come to think of it, he’s probably right. It’s a little cold to think of myself as an object to cash in on, but it’s the theme of the night and I can’t stop thinking about how much I’m worth to the right person. Or even the wrong person.
A man in a dark suit opens the door, and Rafael steps out first, buttoning his jacket. My eyes fall to his tattooed fingers and the viper on the back of his hand. It’s beautiful with its ruby red eyes and elaborate scales. When the light hits it just right, the skin of the creature shimmers with an iridescent glimmer of red and creamy pearl.
It’s past noon and the sun is moving quickly over the city. The way the golden light plays through his dark hair gives him an aura of softness I know is a lie.
He offers me his hand, and I hesitate for just a moment before sliding my bare palm over his, feeling the warmth of his skin seep into my cold fingers as he helps me and my massive dress from the vehicle.
The white silk of my wedding dress pools around my feet as I stand on the sidewalk, and I'm suddenly aware of how ridiculous I must look—a bride without a groom, a woman in a ruined gown standing outside a building that houses both legitimate business and decadent sin.
The late afternoon sunlight catches the crystals sewn into my bodice and throws tiny rainbows across Rafael's chest, and something about that image makes my heart clench in a way I don't want to examine too closely.
My head is telling me to shut up and accept this as a business transaction and nothing more. But the prism of colors glimmering over him has my heart wondering if this could be the start of a fairy tale.
Ha. Stupid heart.
Rafael guides me through the lobby with his hand pressed against the small of my back, and I try not to notice how the security guards straighten as we pass, how the receptionists lower their eyes, how every person in this building seems to orient themselves around him like he’s their king.
They see a woman in this dress and they think we've just been married. But not a soul says a word.
Huh. Well, this is his kingdom, and I am walking into it without any idea of what role I'm expected to play.
That’s not entirely true. I know what he’s going to expect of me by the end of the night. I offered payment, and there’s no way a man like him won’t collect on it.
He releases my hand and brushes the back of my arm with the tips of his finger for me to go before him. It was a simple move, but the current of energy that passes between us draws me up short. I turn, flicking my gaze up to his. The move is so fast, I lose my balance and fall into his chest.
Strong arms come around me and I’m pinned against the mafia king's body. “The last time we were like this, you kissed me.”
I have no idea what makes me say that, but I don’t regret it at all when the corner of his lip twitches to show a hint of a smile.
“Are you always so blunt with your kidnappers?”
A few strands of black hair have slipped from their place to fall over his forehead. Staring down at me like he is now, he looks every bit the playboy if there was a dangerous mafia man version.
He raises a hand and strokes a callused thumb over my cheek. “This makes twice now that I’ve met you and both times your mascara has refused to stay in place.”
At least my lipstick is most likely intact. I pass the tip of my tongue over my bottom lip.
Big mistake. The second his lips are on mine my palms spread over the tautness of his chest.
He draws the tender flesh between his teeth and nibbles on the plumpness before stepping back when there’s a chime.
The elevator doors slide open with a soft whoosh and Rafael places his hand on my waist to guide me inside when a familiar voice cuts through the ambient noise of the lobby.
“Persia? Oh my God, Persia!”
I jump and turn to see Calla and Kiara rushing toward me, their designer heels clicking against the marble floors in a rapid staccato that echoes off the high ceilings. They're dressed for a party in matching sequined dresses that catch the light with every movement, their hair perfectly styled and their makeup flawless in a way that makes me acutely aware of the mascara tracks still staining my own cheeks.
I gather the long ends of my dress and step out of the elevator before I can think better of it, and Rafael’s arm tightens around my waist in a gesture that feels more possessive than protective. When I glance up at him, the warmth that was in his eyes moments ago has been replaced by something cold and calculating.
“What’s wrong?” I ask, keeping my voice low enough that my approaching friends can't hear.
His jaw tightens almost imperceptibly as he watches Calla and Kiara close the distance between us. “They left you alone at the Scarlet Thorn. In a room full of predators, they walked away and left you unprotected so they could party with men they’d only just met.” His voice is quiet, controlled, but there's an edge to it that makes something in my chest constrict. “Women like that see you as someone convenient. Entertainment when it suits them. Not a real friend.”
