Page 25 of Lillian

I make myself adopt a flirtatious tone and talk loud enough that I know Lincoln will hear me. “You’re very handsome.” I even bat my eyes coquettishly. Taking a sip of my wine, I use that as an excuse to check Lincoln’s reaction. His shoulders are rigid, eyes hard and locked on Vincenzo. Violence brews in their hazel depths. A shudder goes through me, not entirely unpleasant. Lincoln is not, or at least never was before, a violent guy. He’s about as puppy dog-like as they come. His favorite thing to do is watchDisneymovies, for Christ’s sake.

“Thank you.” Vincenzo draws my gaze back to him. Back to his forced smile. I almost want to laugh. I’m not a vain person, but I get enough looks from men to know that I’m objectively attractive. Yet the one man I latched onto in anadult clubcouldn’t want less to do with me.

“This natural?” he asks, taking a strand of my hair and rubbing it through his fingers. It’s my turn to force a smile.

“It is,” I tell him on a shrug, running my own hand through it to fix it back into place once he drops his.

“Everywhere?” he asks with a raised brow.

Everywhere?

My cheeks heat as I realize he’s asking if the carpet matches the drapes. Dear God, could I be any more uncomfortable now? This party—these people—are so strange.

“Yes,” I murmur, answering him for some freaking reason. I see his own gaze latch on to someone across the room, as distracted as I am with Lincoln so close.

He nods without looking at me and sips the scotch in his hand. “Lovely visual,” he says and walks away.

Shit.

Shit, shit, shit.

Now who can I use as my buffer?

There’s a second of panic, and I turn, about to shuffle away. But a big body blocks my way. Lincoln’s heady cologne invades my space—the same that he used four years ago—and I want to melt into him.

Until he opens his fat mouth. “What the hell was that, Lil?” Anger laces his words.

“What?” I feign ignorance, equally pissed.Heis stalkingme,andhe’sthe one that’s pissed?

No, a little harmless flirting on my part is the least that he deserves.

“Did you think that would work?” he grits out. My head jerks up to him, and I take in his body before a slow grin spreads across my face.

“I think it did the job, yes.” His jaw works as he glares at me.

“Do you even know who that was?”

“Vincenzo,” I reply breezily, confused by his question. My eyes dart to the man’s back as he walks away and then back to Lincoln.

“That’s fucking Vincenzo Bramante.” Lincoln puts a heavy amount of emphasis on his last name, and I frown at him.

“And?” I take a sip of my wine.

“Andhe’s basically the heir to the God damn Mafia,” he grits out, leaning around me in a way that blocks Vincenzo from looking at me. Not that he even needs to. The man couldn’t give two shits about me. Though my reaction to him now makes sense. The level of danger bleeding from that man was obvious. But I guess I’m not displaying the appropriate amount of fear for Lincoln because he continues berating me.

“What the fuck are you doing here anyways? This isn’t your scene.” His words reignite a fire in me.

“And how the hell would you know whatmy sceneis? Maybe in the past four years, I’ve changed a little. You know, to become less of anembarrassmentto people.”

He leans away from me, surprised at the venom in my tone, and his shoulders lose their rigidity. His arms come up in supplication, and just as he’s about to speak, to say something I probably have no interest in hearing, feedback fills the room from the microphone on stage.

We both glance over to see an older gentleman with a white beard and salt and pepper hair lean into the mic. He starts to speak.

“Hello, everyone. Can I have your attention, please?” All around the room, heads whip in his direction as he continues. “Welcome, everyone, to the first Wicked Temptation Key Party. We are glad you all have decided to join us tonight for what we hope will turn into an annual event. I’m Damien, your MC for the night. A few housekeeping issues to get out of the way before we get to the real reason you’re all here. Everyone here was medically checked for any transmittable diseases and pregnancy.”

I’m not sure why, but standing so close to Lincoln while the MC says this has my body heating up. All of a sudden, I’m thinking about him contracting some sexually transmitteddisease and wondering how many women he’s slept with since we’ve been broken up; the fire continues to grow.

Damien goes on.

---