Page 45 of The Devil Can Be Kind

ADALYN

For the next week, I was banned from leaving the house.

My credit card was thankfully still in my purse, but my relative freedom and happiness were well and truly down the drain. I had lounged by the pool, practiced my cooking, read books and worked out in the gym…never once coming into contact with Marco.

By the eighth day of house arrest, I was going stir-crazy and just about ready to trash the place in frustration.

Luckily, Jesse brought me some good news that morning.

“We are going out tonight.” He announced after he had swallowed a mouthful of orange juice.

“We are?” I exclaimed with unprecedented excitement.

“Yup. We have business at one of our clubs in Milwaukee. It’s an overnighter so don’t forget to pack a bag.”

“Alright. What kinda dress code are we talking?”

“You know, the norm. High heels, lots of makeup, slutty dresses.” He winked and I laughed.

“You won’t have to abandon me the whole night, will you? I hate dancing by myself.”

“Naa, just some of it.” He grinned. “We are there for business after all.”

The rest of the day was spent on cloud nine, excited for the evening and getting back some relative ‘freedom’. I had packed my bag for the night and spent the next few hours planning my outfit.

I had decided on a very short black dress with long tight sleeves and a high neckline. The dress clung to my curves in a sexy but sophisticated way, showing off my best features. I finished off the look with a Yves Saint Laurent clutch and over-the-knee leather boots that accentuated the tops of my thighs. I dabbed on an intoxicatingly red shade of lipstick and paired it with dramatic smoky eyeshadow.

By the time I came downstairs it was six o’clock and Jesse’s G-Wagon was waiting out front for me. I could see two other armored SUV’s already heading down the driveway as we left the house and presumed that Marco was inside one of them. I was suddenly grateful I wasn’t expected to ride with him.

Nothing like postponing the inevitable.

My stomach flip-flopped violently, though whether it was from anxiety or something else I didn’t know.

The drive to the club took just under two hours and by the time we arrived in the underground garage it was close to eight. My stomach grumbled with hunger as we made it to the elevator and proceeded to ascend the numerous floors.

When we came to a stop, we weren’t in a club as I had expected, but a very classy restaurant complete with a live pianist and waiters in white-tailed coats.

A friendly hostess immediately approached and greeted us, making sure to pay extra attention to the man at my side.

She swiftly walked us to a glass corridor which seemed to boast multiple private-function rooms, and she gestured for me to continue as we turned the corner. Layton and Wyatt stood outside the last remaining door and they both nodded to me as I passed.

Unsurprisingly, Marco sat at the head of a modern glass table as I entered. He was typing away on his phone, looking very much like sin incarnate as I took my seat across from him. Once I’d settled, he placed the phone to the side and fixed me with his gaze for the first time in over a week.

My stomach somersaulted.

He smiled. “You loo?—”

“Save it,” I dismissed.

I didn’t want to hear it.

Not when there had been such a dangerous moment between us before. I needed to keep him at a distance. The lines were beginning to haze and blur between us, and I couldn’t afford for that to happen.

He scowled at my rudeness.

“I’m a bit surprised you brought me here,” I said, inspecting the room. “I thought you would be too ashamed to be seen with aMannino,” I jeered.

He smiled half-heartedly and shook his head. “As it turns out, not very many people know who you are around here.”

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