Sab frowns. “Who?”
“You know who. They buried her away from the rest of the family. Like she’s some dirty little secret,” I say, the flames of rage licking at my insides the more I talk about it.
She looks hurt, confused, and then she shakes her head. “Why does that even matter now?”
I huff out a breath, my nostrils flaring. I should have kept my goddamn mouth shut. “You’re right, it doesn’t matter. Not to him, and not to the rest of the family. But I thought it would to you,” I reply, my tone clipped and cool. “She was our mother, Sab.”
I stride past her, needing to get out of here before I say something I really regret. Spilling my secrets is the last thing I can afford to do right now. Especially when I’m so close to achieving everything I’ve worked so hard for.
“Sammy!” Sab calls after me, but I ignore her, feeling guilty for drowning out her voice with every step toward my Porsche.
I open the door and climb in, settling into my seat and starting the engine. I let out a slow breath and force myself to relax. I need to be calm tonight—not my usual charge in and destroy shit style. I look out my window toward Maxwell’s Ferrari 812 and smile.
“Sorry, sweetheart, I need to stray to the dark side tonight.” I rub my hand across my car’s dashboard before cutting her engine.
I walk over to Maxwell’s Ferrari, letting my gaze move along her soft red curves.
“He’ll kill you if you drive her,” Sab says from the doorway of the house. She’s followed me, and by the way she’s chewing the inside of her cheek, she feels bad for what she said. “You know that’s his baby.”
I look over to her with a grin, all anger between us dissolving. “That’s exactly what makes it so tempting, sister.”
She shakes her head at me and purses her lips. “You’re incorrigible.” She throws the keys to me and smiles, her way of an apology—of telling me she loves me no matter what and always have my back.
The feeling is mutual. Sabella is the only person in this world I care about.
I catch the keys in my left hand and give her a nod. “Thanks.”
“What should I say if he asks?” Sabella turns to go back inside.
“Tell him his lady in red wanted a real man for the night.”
Half an hour later, I give the keys to the valet of the nightclub and head to the entrance. A security guard scans my invitation and directs me to a mirrored elevator instead of the main party. I keep my expression guarded, taking in my surroundings when the doors slide open.
This place, club…whatever the hell it is, is even more decadent than the one downstairs. Bodies fill the dance floor, moving to the rhythmic beats. I stand at one of the tall glass poseur tables, grabbing the attention of one of the waitresses walking around the place with a nod of my head.
She comes straight over, every curve of her lean body accentuated in the tight black pantsuit she wears. Her hair is pulled back from her face, revealing high cheekbones, clear eyes, and red lips. She smiles as she comes closer.
“What can I get you, sir?”
“Sazerac,” I reply as I pull out my wallet.
She smiles at me. “That won’t be necessary.” She turns and leaves, heading toward the bar area, and I put my wallet back away.
The waitresses are carrying trays loaded down with cocktails and bottles of Dom Perignon. I watch as they deliver drinks, then walk away. Fuck, this place really is high-end if all the drinks are free. Who are these people?
“Care to dance?”
I look up as a stunning brunette comes over to where I’m standing. Her dress is tight and short, but not slutty. There’s something classy about her. The waitress also comes back with my drink, offering the brunette a smile.
“Can I get you a drink?”
The brunette doesn’t take her eyes off me as she replies. “Dry martini.”
The waitress leaves again, and I pick up my drink and take a sip. Fuck, that tastes good. It burns away at the nerves of apprehension and excitement in my stomach, making me feel more relaxed. I scan the club, my eyes resting on a well-dressed man sitting in a roped off section. Guards are standing to attention like fucking dogs. There’s an air about him. Importance. Money. It’s almost regal.
“So?” the girl presses, her tongue flitting out to dampen her bottom lip.
I cock an eyebrow at her in question, and her smile widens.
