Good Girls & Gangsters. (Book 2)

Chapter 13

I knock the on the door four more times. Nothing.

I go to the touchpad integrated into the wall that's connected to the automated system of the penthouse's mainframe. I input my master key to force my entry. The door opens and I pause to lean against the frame, crossing my arms.

She stands in front of the tall mirror, examining her outfit like she's unsure of herself.

I exploit the moment to marvel at her. Spools of her curls have been straightened into dark tresses that tumble down her bare back. Enveloped in elegance in a deep orange dress like molten embers, the silky ends like flames that licks at her ankles, flattering her honeyed brown skin. A vision of a burnt sunrise.

"Beautiful," I murmur.

She teases the slim strap and swivels around. Her face pampered with light makeup only accentuating her beauty. But terribly marred by the deadened scowl, she wears like a mask.

"Where's your necklace?"

Her response is a quizzical look.

I shrug. "I've just never seen you without it." I lift myself up, straightening my dark-silver suit jacket. "Come downstairs with me. I have something for you."

She walks over and shoulders past me, my eyes locked on that well-rounded ass. Caging my inner dog, I look away before I succumb to impulse. Her black heels thud on the glazed floor as she makes her way down the passage, along the catwalk and down the crystal-like steps.

On the ground floor I lead her to the lounge, and I fetch the thigh holster from the end of the long couch. I move to seal the rift between us, bolting my gaze to hers. I sink to the floor slowly, never breaking eye contact until I drop to one knee. The slit of the dress runs up to her hip. And I take a gentle hold of her ankle, my hand gradually gliding up, electrified by the skin-to-skin. My mind slumps in a slush, intoxicated by desire. She draws in an unsteady breath. Sobering, I stop, and I secure the lacey black holster to her thigh, slipping in a stiletto dagger.

"You'll never need it. But I'd feel better knowing that you have it."

I rise to loom over her, my eyes lingering on her petal-pink lips, puffy and delicate. Then I retrieve the steel bracelet and I clasp it around her wrist. "Platinum access for VIP."

She surveys it inquisitively.

"Are you ready?"

I catch the ghoulish glint in her eyes. She nods.

***

This time. I open her door.

She emerges, rising like a midnight sun. I extend my hand, and to my surprise. She accepts, and I take the opportunity to couple our arms. We make our way to the elaborate entrance, apathetic to the queued-up throngs.

I brandish my bracelet. The bouncer scans it, and then Hadassah's before he jerks his head. We enter, arriving at the party-scape. Wall-shaking bass thumps through the club. The dancefloor below is awash with the inebriated masses. Multi-coloured lights streak through, flashing like rainbow lightening, pulsing with the booming beat of the music.

Hadassah nudges me. "That him?"

I follow her line of sight to the exclusive gallery, festooned with ultra-luxurious furnishings. The table is topped with ice buckets. His whores are draped all over him, heavy security fortifies his surroundings. Men around the area, dispersed along the staircase and at the base.

"It's not an issue." I think hard. "I can make an approach. My name already wins an audience. The real challenge is making him listen."

An unrecognizable look shrouds her face. Then she breaks into a smile, illuminating the darkness.