Page 4 of His Ruthless Obsession

"Jazz." Nerio's eyes lock onto mine. "These gentlemen were just commenting on the exceptional service tonight."

"We're impressed," one man says, swirling his scotch. "The Block could learn something from this place."

"That's all thanks to Ms. Holliday here." Nerio's hand brushes my lower back as he guides me to sit beside him. "She has quite the eye for detail."

The touch burns through my dress. I force a professional smile, even as his thigh presses against mine under the table. "We aim to exceed expectations."

"And exceed them you do." His voice drops lower, meant just for me. "Stay close tonight. I may need you."

The weight of his words settles in my chest. I know he means for club business, but the way he says it feels like something else entirely. Something dangerous and thrilling and absolutely off limits. And I undeniably want.

But soon, I have to excuse myself to deal with a delivery and then a problem at the door. Every time I look up, though, Nerio's are on me, and I ignore the warmth that washes over me. So many women in this club and yet…

I rip myself from my thoughts and go check on tables. I'm not sure what has gotten into me tonight. I never lose myself over a guy.

But Nerio is not just some guy.

I spot some of our high spenders finishing off a bottle and I make sure they don't go without for long. "Another round for the VIP section?" I ask them.

The guy in the middle of the couch looks up at me, letting his eyes trial down my body. I don't like it the way I do when Nerio does. "I'll take whatever you're offering."

I signal the server, maintaining my professional smile despite the increasingly rowdy group of men.

"Hey sweetheart, why don't you bring it yourself?" One of them, a thick-necked guy in an ill-fitting suit, reaches for my wrist. "Give us a private show while you're at it."

I pull back, but another man blocks my path. "Come on, just one dance. We're spending good money here."

"I'm the manager, not entertainment." I keep my voice firm. "Please remove your hand."

"Playing hard to get?" The first guy's fingers dig into my skin. "I like that."

"What's the matter? Too good for us?" His friend's breath reeks of expensive bourbon as he leans in. "Bet Bueti would let us take a run at you. Go tell him that the Rossi brothers will pay handsomely for his b-"

"His what, exactly?"

The temperature seems to plummet. Nerio materializes behind them, his expression carved from ice. The man releases my wrist instantly.

"Mr. Bueti, we were just-"

"Just discussing how you'd like me to separate your fingers from your hands?" Nerio's voice stays conversational, almost pleasant. "Or perhaps you'd prefer I start with your intestines? I could arrange that right here. The marble floors make cleanup so convenient."

My breath catches. The casual way he describes violence shouldn't affect me like this, but heat pools in my core.

"I know an excellent spot to dump what's left of you in the river." He straightens their leader's crooked tie, his movements deliberate. "The current's strong enough that by the time they find pieces of you, the fish will have done most of my work. Would you like to test that theory?"

The men pale, stumbling over themselves to apologize. Sweat beads on their foreheads.

"Leave." One word, spoken softly, but they practically trip over each other rushing to the exit.

Nerio's hand settles on my lower back, burning through my dress. I try to ignore how his proximity makes my pulse race. The dangerous glint still lingers in his eyes, and God help me, but it's doing things to me I don't want to examine too closely.

He guides me through the crowded club with the light press of his hand, and I can't seem to focus on anything else. The bass pounds through the floor as we slip behind a heavy velvet curtain into the employee corridor. The music muffles, replaced by the sound of my heartbeat in my ears.

Nerio backs me against the wall, caging me in with his arms. The dim light catches the dangerous glint in his eyes as he scans me. "Did they hurt you?"

"I'm fine." My voice comes out breathier than intended. "Nothing I haven't handled before."

"That's not what I asked." His thumb traces where that guy grabbed me, leaving trails of fire on my skin. "Show me."

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