A petty thief. A reserved gangster. An unpayable debt. A steamy arrangement.
One young woman thinks she has an easy mark when she picks the pocket of a seemingly high roller, but when she's caught red handed, he's anything but, and he's not letting...
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It felt like all eyes were on me as I entered Muse, the art gallery Beans had dropped me off at. Other people were entering the building, but it felt like everyone was focusing on me.
It was one thing when I'd been playing model and server at the Monte Carlo night, because then I'd at least served a purpose. Here, as a guest, I wasn't sure I belonged. When I'd gone shopping that afternoon with Beans for dresses, I'd never felt more out of place browsing through all the shops holding nothing but designer. Back in Bedford Heights, it wasn't rare to see someone wearing high-end clothing, but it had never been my style.
I honestly didn't feel right even considering the five thousand-dollar Oscar de la Renta dress that had caught my eye.
"They'll probably see right through me," I'd pouted as I gave up ten minutes into our stint in a shop called Rare Luxe.
Beans wasn't a fashionista. He'd looked bored out of his mind the entire time I'd sat at the local salon having my hair dyed dark, and even more so now that we were shopping for clothes. But he took me by surprise when he peered straight into my eyes and willed me to be strong. "Then let them see you're fearless. You're a beautiful woman, and you can't shatter diamonds, remember that."
You can't shatter diamonds. I'd liked that mantra right away. It served to help me shop with my head held high as I eventually found what I'd deemed the perfect dress.
At first, I didn't think I could pull the dress off, but I loved the way it looked on me as soon as I put it on. My breasts were sitting and my ass looked great. I couldn't wait to be seen in it.
Now at the gala, I wasn't so sure.
Letting out a nervous breath, I took a step further into the entrance and looked around, searching for—
Within a blur, he'd materialized in front of me. Cain came out of nowhere, and didn't look an ounce happy to see me.
I had just opened my mouth to greet him when he took my hand and whisked me away, out of the entrance and through the front room filled with paintings I didn't get to really see. It was a blur of people and things as Cain walked with determination to get somewhere in the gallery.
He didn't stop to respond to any of the people who spoke his name or attempted to start a conversation. No, Cain kept walking until we'd hit the back of the building where there was a back hallway leading to a restroom, an exit, and an office. For a moment, Cain paused, meditating as he swung his attention from the restroom to the office. In the end, he chose the office as he ushered me inside and shut the door behind us. The soft click let me know he'd locked us in.
I hung back, confused, worried, uncertain.
Tension was steaming from Cain's person as he turned from the door and faced me. Impassive.
