Total pages in book: 119
Estimated words: 109882 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 549(@200wpm)___ 440(@250wpm)___ 366(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109882 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 549(@200wpm)___ 440(@250wpm)___ 366(@300wpm)
Chapter
Ten
Bianca
My eyes felt massive as I leaned forward and stared out Enzo’s windshield, the front of the massive brick building that housed Static seeming a little imposing. There was a long line stretching down the side of the building and curved around the back, and the bright neon sign was situated above twin red doors with a beefy-ass bouncer standing guard in front.
Enzo pulled up to the curb right in front of the entrance, left the car running, and before I knew what was happening, my door was opened, and a young man dressed in a black shirt that said Staff stepped to the side to let me out. Enzo was already out and walking around the hood of the car as I slid out of the passenger seat and stood, smoothing my hands down the faux leather skirt I’d chosen to wear tonight.
Enzo was by my side and holding a hand out. I slipped my fingers along his warm, big palm, and he instantly curled his around mine and pulled me to his side. The door was shut behind me, and I didn't miss how Enzo slid folded-up bills into the attendant's hand. The young man nodded his thanks and hurried to the driver side, slipping into the seat and pulling the car away from the curb to park.
I was led toward the front doors and glanced at the long line of people waiting to get in. Some showed their awe, others holding pissed expressions because clearly we wouldn’t have to wait like they did. I focused ahead just as the bouncer nodded in respect toward Enzo, stepped aside, and pulled free the thick velvet rope that blocked entry in an aesthetic sense.
Enzo let go of my hand and slid his to curl possessively around my waist, pulling me close. I noticed the way the bouncer glanced at the move and quickly looked away. Despite the dude being a behemoth size-wise, it was clear Enzo scared him. I didn’t miss the way his body tightened with Enzo’s presence.
And as “wrong” as it was, I felt a hard spear of pleasure in me because of it.
The red, shiny doors were pulled open, and the heavy bump and bass of music spilled out. There was a set of stairs directly in front of us. I cursed myself for thinking these heels had been a good idea, but the slight tightening of Enzo’s fingers around my waist as we walked down them made me feel safe and secure.
I glanced at him through my lashes, and although he seemed relaxed, his profile was masculine with sharp angles. I felt my inner muscles clench painfully, as if my body said screw the club and let him just claim what he wanted.
All of me.
The music was louder at the bottom of the stairs, and in front of us was a short hallway that opened up to the main club. The lighting was dim, broken up by flashes of neon lasers, blacklights, and the unmistakable backlit glow from the bar.
The club was packed, with everyone dancing, grinding their bodies together, the act innocent enough until I really looked and noticed it was reminiscent of sex. A fresh flush moved through my body. Enzo tightened his hold on me, and I glanced up at him. He already watched me, his dark eyes unreadable, but the small lift of his lips had me smiling in return.
He faced forward and started leading us through the club, and I didn’t miss how the women looked at him with clear appreciation in their eyes. I bristled, the jealousy that rose in me confusing and frustrating. Enzo was a gorgeous man, so obviously he’d garner attention. We’d also only been on two dates. I had no claim on him, yet the very idea of anyone else wanting him set me on edge.
Ten minutes later, we were through the roped-off VIP section and sitting, a glass of whiskey in Enzo’s hand and a flute of champagne in mine. I didn’t bother asking if he’d been here before, how it was clear everyone seemed to know him… how everyone seemed to fear him. The answer was clear in all the ways that mattered, in all the ways I already knew. Still, it seemed strange to be here with Enzo when I knew the truth and somehow be okay with it.
Was I okay with it? It wasn’t as if I'd lost sleep thinking about how “bad” he was when he wasn’t with me. It wasn’t as if I wondered how many people he’d killed or the lengths he’d go to get what he wanted. Was I curious? To an extent, but not enough to ask. Not enough to stop seeing him, it seemed.
And what does that say about me? What kind of person was I truly if the man I wanted was a ruthless mafia boss?