REINA
Today was hell after hell.
After that disgusting encounter with the creep at the store earlier, I had almost fooled myself into believing that the day couldn’t possibly get any worse. But life, apparently, had other plans.
Because after our narrow escape from what could’ve easily turned into a kidnapping—or worse, an attack—I’d learned to never, ever say never again.
Maybe it was paranoia clawing at my gut, but sothing about that black car that tailed us for fifteen whole minutes didn’t feel like coincidence. It didn’t feel random. The thought that soone might’ve been watching us—hunting us—kept replaying in my mind like a horror movie on loop.
A part of tried to reason with myself, whispering that maybe I was overthinking it. But another, louder part refused to believe that lie. No. Sothing was wrong. Terribly, dangerously wrong.
And if I wasn’t the target... then it had to be Tessa.
The idea alone sent a cold rush of panic through , one so intense I could feel it in my throat, pressing, choking, clawing.
Even now—surrounded by a crowd so thick I could barely move, the bass of the music vibrating through the soles of my heels, Tessa’s body pressed against mine as she danced to her favorite song—I couldn’t shake it. The fear. The gut-deep unease.
Every beat of the music felt too loud. Every flash of light too sharp. Every face around —every shadow, every stare—looked like a threat. Like maybe the man in the black car was here, hidden sowhere in this clubhouse, watching us from the dark.
Just the thought made my heart race so hard it hurt.
"I want to go ho," I muttered under my breath, my voice nearly drowned by the pulsing music.
The words barely made it past my lips, but even if I scread, I doubted Tessa would hear .
God, I wished I could just grab her hand, pull her close, and say it—I want to go ho, Tess. I want to get the hell out of here. Maybe then, once I was locked inside my apartnt, wrapped up in my blanket, I’d finally feel safe again. Maybe I could convince myself that whoever was out there wouldn’t be able to reach .
But I couldn’t.
This night was supposed to be for . Tessa had planned it, begged to co out and unwind after the two aching years we’d spent apart. The last thing I wanted was to sound like a paranoid brat who couldn’t handle one night out.
"You can do this, Reina. You are safe in here, no one is coming to hurt you."
I forced a smile and tried to drown the fear. I told myself to live in the mont, to breathe, to just be here. I tried to think of sothing—anything—good.
Like the fact that I was finally back in school after two years. That Tessa was still by my side, stubborn and loyal as always. That Paolo had just bought a new apartnt, and the two new cars... and—God help —the fact that I was having the kind of sex that made forget my na with my father-in-law.
A bitter laugh almost slipped out of . What kind of ssed-up girl thought about that in the middle of a panic attack?
Still, the thought of Donico—his hands, his mouth, the way he looked at like he wanted to ruin and worship all at once—sent a shiver up my spine that had nothing to do with fear.
I was still lost in that dangerous thought when Tessa’s hand tapped my shoulder. I flinched before I could stop myself.
She leaned close, shouting over the thundering bass, her hair brushing against my cheek. "I’ll grab us a drink! My throat’s so dry... I need sothing cold!"
She laughed, carefree and unbothered, and I tried to mirror her energy.
"Go," I said, forcing a smile I didn’t feel. "I’ll hold the fort. Don’t take too long, this is your favorite song, rember?"
Tessa grinned and vanished into the crowd, swallowed by a blur of flashing lights and dancing bodies.
And suddenly, I felt it again...
That prickle at the back of my neck.
That gut-deep certainty that soone, sowhere, had their eyes locked right on .
"Shit, Reina! Stop scaring yourself." I mumbled, biting down hard on my lower lip. "Just dance or sothing."
I let it roll through , arms raised, eyes closed, body swaying in a blur of light and heat. I could still taste the margarita I had earlier at the bar on my tongue, the li sharp and sweet.
Then soone brushed behind . A solid presence. Close enough that I felt breath against my neck.
I turned, and there he was, the man my eyes had caught imdiately we entered into the clubhouse. The one at the bar with a smirk that could probably get him in or out of anything.
What had drawn my attention to him imdiately I stepped into this clubhouse was diamond stud earrings that seed to be glowing more than anything in this clubhouse.
I had thought maybe I should get a pair of them for Paolo on our anniversary. I still didn’t understand why he had stopped wearing earrings even though they looked good on him.
The flashy diamond stud earrings man smiled like he’d just caught doing sothing interesting. "Thought you might need a partner," he said.
"Who says I need one?" I frowned, slowly taking my eyes off his ears before he thought I was interested in him.
Even if I should tell him I wasn’t starring at him because I was interested in him and that in fact I was married, he wouldn’t believe because I wasn’t even wearing my wedding band.
"I saw you dancing with your friend. Looked like you were having fun. Figured I’d try my luck."
"Luck?" I repeated, cocking a brow. "You think dancing with requires luck?"
"Oh, absolutely. You look like the kind of woman who chews n up for breakfast."
I laughed, loud enough to surprise myself. "That’s one way to introduce yourself."
He extended a hand with exaggerated politeness. "Paul."
"Reina."
"Pretty na. Dangerously sexy smile," he said, eyes dipping briefly to my lips. "You should co with a warning label."
"You’re full of lines, aren’t you?"
He grinned. "It’s either that or I stand here staring and make it awkward for both of us."
"You’re already halfway there," I teased.
"Ouch." He clutched his chest dramatically. "At least dance with so I can redeem myself."
I hesitated, then shrugged. "Fine. But if you step on ..."
"I’ll buy you a drink," he said quickly. "Deal?"
"Deal." I said with a shrug.
I thought maybe I could distract myself dancing with this handso stranger until my best friend got back.
Paul wasn’t a bad dancer—too confident, maybe, but he had rhythm. He moved easily, like soone who knew the power of touch but was testing how far he could go.
His hands hovered near my waist, not quite touching. When he leaned closer, the heat of his body sent a ripple of awareness down my spine.
"So," he said, low and teasing, "does your boyfriend know you dance like this?"
I arched a brow. "What makes you think I have one?"
"Because if you don’t, that’s even more dangerous for ."
"Flirting with danger seems to be your specialty."
He chuckled. "I’m a man of many talents. Want to find out?"
I shook my head, laughing again. He was shaless, but not in a sleazy way—more like soone who didn’t mind being ridiculous if it made you smile.
"You must practice this on every woman you et," I said.
"Only the ones who make it look this good."
I rolled my eyes. "You’re impossible."
"And yet, you’re still dancing with ."
"Because you’re funny, not because you’re charming."
"Funny works for ," he said, winking. "Charming’s overrated."
I was about to reply, maybe throw another playful jab his way—but then his gaze shifted, landing sowhere behind . The joking vanished from his face.
The music kept pounding, but everything inside stilled.
I didn’t need to turn to know why.
I could feel him.
Donico.
My father-in-law is here. And just like a part of had been waiting for him, the rest of my body ca alive and I felt myself taking a step away from Paul.
I don’t need a distraction from anyone else when Donico Gravano is here. Here for .
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