9. Angelo

Chapter 9

Angelo

I can't take my eyes off Claudia.

I have a table in the far corner of the dance club. It's a high top on the far side of the bar, opposite where she's dancing, and I have a good line of sight on her, but she clearly can't see me. I drink a whiskey and watch her moving, completely entranced by the way her hips sway, by the expressions she makes, like she's in utter ecstasy. I know she's faking— this is her work, after all—but it's the most beautiful dancing I've ever seen in my life.

Just a girl in a cage. A nothing girl, a nobody, a distraction. And right now, she's everything to me.

Tonight, she's in a black bodysuit. No sleeves, cut very low to show her breasts. She's wearing the chains again and they sparkle. Her hair's up, showing off gold earrings, and her heels make her ass and her legs look like heaven. When she rotates around, I swear I'm fucking hard, watching those thighs.

I'm pulsing with need for her. I should be busy making plans for how to deal with Roc and Vito when Seamus gets back to me, but instead I'm in this fucking club again, this goddamn albatross around my neck, watching a girl dance.

It's obscene. And I love it.

I'm at war with myself this whole time. One part of me wants to go over there and talk to her, but the other knows that's only setting myself up for failure. She turned me down already, and pushing her will only make it worse. I can't be sure she won't run to Tommy in a pathetic attempt to score points with him, but I don't feel like she's that kind of woman.

And I can't stop thinking about the look she gave him.

That pure hatred .

No, we have that in common, and I don't think she wants anything to do with that asshole.

I study Claudia for almost an hour before Tommy and Serena emerge from a side hallway. The sister really is stunning, and she seems a little more clear-eyed this time. Tommy walks after her, his hair slicked back, his buttons undone enough to show off chest hairs and gaudy chains. He always was a fucking cliché gangster. They leave the club, and I note the bouncer gives them a mock salute.

I go back to watching Claudia. Beautiful, alluring fucking Claudia. I should just get up and talk to her. I don't have to convince her to work for me. It can be a conversation, a normal fucking conversation, but I've been locked up for five years and normal fucking conversations with beautiful women are very much not my expertise anymore.

Then she surprises me and leaves her cage. She takes a tray from one of the other girls and they switch spots. I watch Claudia hurry toward the hallway Tommy and Serena just left and she disappears inside, her head down, charging forward like she's on a mission.

Tommy's office is down that way.

My heart starts beating faster. She can't be going in there to snoop for me. Could she? I'm so fucking tempted to follow, but I know there are eyes on me right now, and I don't want to blow this for her.

So I stay seated. I'm impatient and annoyed, but I don't move. Claudia is probably just going for a break and I'm reading into this too much.

Except a few minutes after she disappeared, Rodrigo follows after her.

And a nasty feeling fills my guts.

I get up and walk after him. Maybe I'm overreacting, but I can't help myself. I move down the hall and spot Rodrigo punching in the code at Tommy's office door. He grabs the handle and is about to push it open when I call his name.

He pauses and looks over with a frown.

"Mr. Bianco," he says, hand still on the knob. "What can I do for you?"

I rack my brain. This is fucked. This is beyond fucked. I don't even know that she's in there. But if she is?—

"I need you to set up a private room for me on the third floor." The words spill out before I have time to consider them.

Lucky for me, Rodrigo's a pro. He doesn't show any surprise. "Of course, sir. I'd be happy to. If you like, you can go directly to any of the employees?—"

"I have specific needs and I need someone discreet. I'd prefer it if you would do this for me."

He nods once. Still keeps his hand on the knob. "What can I do for you?"

"I need a bed." His face doesn't react. His hand doesn't move. "And flowers. Roses and tulips. I need champagne?—"

"Really, Mr. Bianco, these are standard requests. If you head upstairs, there's no judgment."

"I need a sex machine." I draw in a slow breath and blow it out. "You know the ones. They do the fucking for you."

Rodrigo's lip twitches. "Yes, sir, we have several different models available."

"Bring me three. I need a saddle, velvet blindfolds, silk ropes, handcuffs, lubricant, condoms, and a grilled cheese sandwich."

Finally, Rodrigo's hand moves away from the handle. "I can take care of this, Mr. Bianco."

"I appreciate your discretion. Which room should I head to?"

"I'll put you in 33. Give me fifteen minutes."

"Very good." He turns to leave and I raise my voice. "Fifteen minutes, room 33 on the third floor. I'll be there."

Rodrigo nods once and hurries off.

I glance toward the door. I have no fucking idea if Claudia's in there, but if she is, I hope to fuck she heard me.

I turn around and spot movement at the end of the hall. A man in a dark suit lingers against the wall, nonchalantly looking at his phone, pretending like he's not tailing me.

Tommy's not even trying to hide it.

But that's why I can't go into the office myself—the second I do, my little guardian angels will know.

If I'm lucky, Claudia might've already come through.