Page 9 of King of Manhattan

As I let him lead me back towards the rooftop exit, I can't shake the feeling that I'm walking a tightrope between two worlds. One false step and I could fall into an abyss from which there's no return.

The night stretches out before us, full of promise and peril. And I, Emily Bennett, respected attorney and upholder of the law, am stepping willingly into the lion's den. God help me, but I can't wait to see what happens next.

Chapter 5

Vince

The ballroom of the Plaza Hotel glitters with New York's elite, a sea of designer gowns and tailored suits. But my eyes are fixed on only one person: Emily Bennett, resplendent in a black silk gown that hugs her delicious curves like a second skin. She's across the room, engaged in conversation with the city's DA, her laugh carrying over the soft strains of the string quartet.

"You're playing with fire, Vinny," a voice murmurs next to me. I turn to see Tony Ricci, an old friend I have a lot of business ties to, watching Emily with a mix of admiration and concern.

I take a sip of my scotch, savoring the burn. "Since when have you known me to shy away from a little heat, Tony?"

He shakes his head, his expression grim. "This isn't just any fire. She's a federal prosecutor, for Christ's sake. If she finds out even half of what you're into—"

"She won't," I cut him off, my tone brooking no argument. "Emily's smart. She knows not to ask questions she doesn't want the answers to." Of course he would already know all about her.

Tony sighs, clearly unconvinced. "Just be careful, Vinny. We can't afford any... complications right now. Not with the Colombians breathing down our necks."

I clap him on the shoulder, my eyes never leaving Emily. "Trust me, Tony. I've got everything under control."

As if sensing my gaze, Emily looks up, her eyes locking with mine across the crowded room. The smile she gives me is small, secretive, meant only for me. It sends a jolt of heat through my body, igniting a fire that will soon need to be quenched.

I make my way towards her, nodding at acquaintances but never stopping to chat. As I approach, the DA excuses himself, clearly intimidated by my presence. Good. The less time Emily spends with law enforcement, the better.

"You look stunning," I murmur, letting my hand rest on the small of her back. It's a possessive gesture, one that doesn't go unnoticed by the watching crowds. Let them look. Let them see that Emily Bennett belongs to me.

She arches an eyebrow, amusement dancing in her eyes. "You clean up pretty well yourself, Mr. Russo. Though I have to say, I'm surprised to see you at another charity event so soon. Don't tell me you're going soft on me."

I lean in close, my lips brushing her ear. "Trust me, counselor, there's nothing soft about me right now."

I feel her sharp intake of breath, see the flush that creeps up her neck. "Vince," she warns, but there's no real heat in her tone. "We're in public."

"Then perhaps we should find somewhere more... private," I suggest, my hand sliding lower on her back.

Emily pulls back slightly, studying my face. "What's gotten into you tonight? You seem a little... wired."

Perceptive as always. It's one of the things I admire most about her, even if it does make my life more complicated. "Just some business concerns," I say vaguely. "Nothing for you to worry about."

Her eyes narrow. "Vince, if there's something going on that I should know about—"

"There isn't," I cut her off, perhaps more sharply than I intended. Softening my tone, I add, "Let's not ruin the evening with talk of business. I'd much rather focus on you."

The tension in her shoulders eases slightly, but I can see the questions still lurking in her eyes. Emily Bennett is not a woman easily distracted or deterred. It's part of what makes her so irresistible.

"Dance with me," I say, holding out my hand. It's not really a request.

She hesitates for just a moment before placing her hand in mine. As I lead her to the dance floor, I'm acutely aware of the eyes following us. Emily Bennett and Vincent Russo, the prosecutor and the alleged mob boss. We're quite the pair, and I know our relationship is the subject of much speculation and gossip.

Let them talk. They don't understand what's between us, the pull that's stronger than any law or moral code.

As we move together on the dance floor, I allow myself to forget about the business concerns weighing on my mind. The Colombians, the shipment coming in next week, the mole I suspect has infiltrated my organization... all of it fades away until there's nothing but Emily in my arms.

"You're a million miles away," she murmurs, her breath warm against my neck. "Want to tell me where you've gone?"

I pull her closer, my hand splayed possessively across her lower back. "I'm right here," I assure her. "Just thinking about how much I want to get you alone."

She laughs softly, the sound sending a shiver down my spine. "Patience, Mr. Russo. The night is still young."

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