“You like that?” A breath skirts over my ear, and I turn, remembering I’m on some guy’s lap. Ram? Bram? No … maybe Sam. I don’t know.
I nod, and his hands tickle their way up my thighs. My dress is hiked up almost to my butt. My thoughts are fuzzy, and the women on the stage seem to have multiplied. I blink, and then they become four again.
My chest is warm, and it spreads through my limbs. If only everyone could feel this way. My breath hitches as one of Graham’s fingers rubs over my underwear, and my vision blurs. The edges around are hazy, but I’m able to focus on the next table over.
Penny straddles a guy on a leather chair. Is she naked? No, no. Her pink thong stretches over her lower half, and the guy’s hands play with the fabric, pulling and snapping it against her.
I furrow my brow. Where’s Rebecca?
“Can I take you to a private room?” Bram says, fingers dangerously close to brushing the most sensitive parts of me.
I shake my head. “I-I, uh … is it hot in here?”
He smiles, his teeth the whitest I’ve ever seen. Are they real?
“It’s getting there, darling,” Sam whispers, and the air blowing in my ear makes me giggle. I laugh, unable to stop. What’s so funny?
I hop up, stumbling backward, and my heels buckle out from underneath me. Landing on the floor, several men dart from their tables, offering me a hand, but I swat them away. I need another drink.
I get to my hands and knees, using a nearby chair to pick myself up.
“You okay, sweetheart?” Another man, perhaps in his sixties, with silver hair and icy blue irises, asks me the question. I nod and sniff. He brings a hand up to my chin, lifting it until he’s studying me like I’m the new Lamborghini he may want to take out for a spin. “You look familiar.”
I shake my head, a rush causing me to close my eyes briefly. Maybe I don’t need another drink. I sidestep him, moving to search for Rebecca.
When I don’t see her at any of the tables, I move to the curtains, ripping each one open to hunt for her.
“Hey! Close that,” shrieks a female on her knees before a man on the couch.
“Sorry,” I mumble.
I pinch my eyes shut, trying to stay in control. “Rebecca!” I shout louder than I mean to. Nothing. Where is she?
“I’m afraid your friend went home with someone already.” The same voice from minutes ago sounds behind me, and I turn to find the gray-haired man standing there.
“Oh, well then, I should probably … most definitely go, too. Yep.” I stammer through the sentence, but suck in a deep breath through my nose, steadying myself.
“I’m afraid you’re not going anywhere, Miss Buscetta.”
I freeze, the name he just called me sobering me fast. “I-I don’t know who that is.”
“Ah, I think you do. I’ve informed Mr. Rose that Salvatore’s daughter is in his club, and do you know what’s interesting, Miss Buscetta?”
Stop saying that name, please.
I shake my head.
“He didn’t even know Salvatore had a daughter. I recognize you from business I’ve done with your father several months ago. I think?—”
I take off running. It’s worse than a three-legged blind gazelle, and I falter and lurch my way through tables, searching for the velvet tapestries we walked in here through. What do I do? What do I do? They know my name.
My father’s words echo in my ear.Your last name is power,sì. But it is also a weakness. They will use you to get to the Cosa Nostra, and I will not jeopardize my organization for one person. Family or not.
I glance behind me to find two guards chasing me, and I reach into my bra to pull out my phone. I have seconds to make this phone call. I fiddle with the buttons, slowing as my trembling clammy fingers dial a number. With the first ring, I pick up the pace, darting down a hallway toward the bathrooms. I push into the women’s restroom.
“Hello?” Luna’s voice echoes in the empty bathroom.
“Luna? Luna, it’s Bella.” I inhale a shaky breath and release it.