Although I don’t know that I wouldn’t do the same exact thing if my father had more money than God…
The elevator doors sliding open pulls me from my thoughts. And even though I watched her getting ready on the camera feed earlier and tried to mentally prepare myself for hours before this date, I find myself not even the least bit prepared when my eyes find Victoria stepping out of the elevator.
Unlike last night when she was all dolled up for the gala, she’s wearing a sexy and short little black dress and heels. Her long hair is down tonight and draped over one shoulder in dark, cascading waves. Her makeup is dark and smoky, just like last night, which really accentuates those dark blue eyes of hers, making them look even more violet than usual.
I can’t help but watch her sexy, olive-skinned legs move towards me in those fuck-me heels. Instantly, blood rushes straight to my cock as I stare at her flawless, beautiful skin and imagine what she looks like without a scrap of fabric covering her gorgeous body. My cock roars to life, threatening to burst right out of the zipper of my five-hundred-dollar tailored pants.
She stops walking and has a bewildered look on her face as she asks, “Do I look…okay?” She seems suddenly shy and unsure, and I must admit it’s fucking adorable.
I clear my throat, having trouble even forming words right now. “You look perfect, Victoria,” I say confidently.
Her pout morphs into a breathtaking smile, and I have to glance away from her for a moment. She’s so fucking beautiful that it actually hurts to look at her.
I always had a tough time looking at her for too long growing up as well. She was the mafia princess, off-limits and unattainable in my eyes. But she always sought me out. Always wanted me to be her friend. Always wanted me in her life.
We were best friends back then, but I always imagined what it would be like to grow up and marry her one day.
Closing my eyes, I force those thoughts back down into the deep, dark depths of my soul where they fucking belong. Then, I shake off the first-date jitters and remind myself what my purpose is here. What my ultimate goal is.
I will destroy Victoria and her father for my revenge, so I can’t allow myself to fall for her, no matter how alluring this temptress is.
Victoria has a long, black coat draped over her arm, and I hiss out a relieved sigh when she dons it, covering most of her beautiful skin, so that I don't go crazy with lust.
“Shall we go?” she asks.
I give her a nod before leading her out of her apartment. As she follows behind me, it feels like I’m leading a lamb to slaughter.
If she only knew my true intentions, this little lamb would run far, far away from me and never look back.
Too bad she won’t find out the truth of my deception until it’s too late.
CHAPTER 9
VICTORIA
IF I SAID I was nervous about my first date with Damon…my first dateever…it would truly be the understatement of the year. Hell, probably even thecentury.
My heart is practically beating out of my chest with the anxiety coursing through my veins. Sophie helped me get ready, and I'm still not so sure she didn't overdo it. The look on Damon's face when he first saw me was undecipherable. I couldn't tell if it was a good or bad reaction. But when I’d asked him for his opinion, he told me I looked perfect.
Perfect.
That's what I've been striving for my whole life, I suppose. I never wanted to disappoint anyone around me, especially not my father.
Normally, I would just hire people to do my hair and makeup, like I do with all the charity galas I’ve been attending, but I wanted to look more natural for my date. And obviously Sophie did her magic and made me look good.
I press my hand against my chest, feeling the locket under the fabric of my dress. It instantly makes me feel better, like always. I like to think that Arlo is always with me, and I feel that right now in this moment more than ever before.
"Victoria," Damon says from the driver's seat, and I jump at his deep, gravelly voice. He chuckles at my response and reaches over to grasp my hand before pulling it to his mouth and placing a gentle kiss on my knuckles. "Nervous?" he asks with a smirk as he glances from the road to me and then back again.
"Yes," I confess.
He looks so handsome tonight dressed in a dark three-piece suit, and his warm, woodsy scent fills my lungs with every breath I take.
"Don't worry. I am too," he says, his face turning back to serious once more.
I know he's just trying to make me feel better, because I can't believe a man like Damon Romero would ever be nervous for a first date. I'm sure he has first dates all the time with women who are way prettier than me. I wouldn't doubt that he dates mostly models.
I mentally groan at myself and try to shake my insecurities off. I've always been like this — never thinking I'm good enough or smart enough or pretty enough.
