Page 86 of Take Me Under

We moved away from the alley, away from the ghosts of a past that refused to disappear, and didn’t look back.

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

Serena

I’d gone out to dinner with men countless times. They were often predictable dates filled with polite conversation and laughter—sometimes genuine and other times forced just to get through the evening. But dinners with Anton always felt like something else entirely. There was nothing performative about him, nor did his behavior seem to be about impressing me. It was more about owning the moment—and owning me.

Our dinner tonight had been lovely—romantic even. But under it all, something else simmered. I felt like I was being claimed. The sexual tension radiating from him was palpable. Every glance he cast in my direction felt like a promise of something dark, possessive, and positively irresistible. It wrapped around me like a silk rope, seductive and inescapable, making it impossible to focus on polite dinner conversation.

By the time we left the restaurant and began making our way to the night club, my body was thrumming with anticipation. Apart of me wanted to skip the club altogether, go back to the hotel room, and strip him out of that perfect shirt and tie. However, Anton had requested to take the lead tonight, and I was too curious about what he had in mind to suggest altering our plans.

Despite spending so much time in Florence, I had never ventured far from the city center. Where we were headed now was off the beaten path, and nowhere near any of the tourist areas. When Zeke had pulled up to the nondescript building to drop us off, there was no signage visible, yet there was still a vibe that screamed exclusivity. Judging by the expensive cars parked nearby and the velvet rope guarded by a bouncer dressed in all black, that was intentional. It didn’t seem like the kind of club that advertised. It was the kind of place you had to know about—the kind of place someone like Anton would know about.

As we approached the entrance, I began to second guess my willingness to let him take charge. Bass pulsed through the pavement, the thrum of house music vibrating in my chest. We hadn’t even gone inside yet, and I was already starting to feel out of my element.

To my surprise, we didn’t pause at the line to get inside. Instead, Anton placed a hand on the small of my back and guided me straight to the entrance. He held up his phone so the broad-shouldered man guarding the door could see the screen. He gave Anton a quiet nod of acknowledgment before unclipping the rope and stepping aside so we could pass.

“What did you show him?” I asked, glancing back at the line to get in.

“VIP pass. I had Zeke check out the place earlier. He arranged it for us.”

Of course, he had that kind of pull. What is this life?

This sort of treatment was foreign to me, and I wasn’t sure how I felt about it. I considered the hotel Anton had booked forus for the weekend, and way the staff had fawned all over us after we arrived. Luxury didn’t even begin to describe it.

A part of me thoroughly enjoyed the white-glove service, but another part of me was uncomfortable with it. I didn’t know how to handle the special treatment any more than I knew how to ignore the jealous looks we received from the people in line outside the club. I wasn’t used to this kind of privilege.

I glanced up to read the scripted gold letters on the large sign just inside the door, above an entrance to a long corridor.

Eclipse Night Club: Meet. Dance. Play

I was surprised to see the words in English and not Italian. It made me wonder if the club catered to a more international crowd.

The further we moved down the hallway, the louder everything became. Anton showed our pass once more to a woman behind a counter, and I couldn’t help but notice the shroud of secrecy that cloaked everything here. She nodded her head toward a second doorman, and he motioned us through another set of doors to the club.

Once inside, Eclipse was an assault on the senses. The lights pulsed in sync with the music, neon blues and purples casting waves of color over the crowd. The dance floor was packed with bodies, and the air was thick with perfume, sweat, and something expensive that I couldn’t quiet place. Whatever it was reminded me of tuberose, rich and intoxicating.

Floor-to-ceiling mirrors reflected the scene back at us, making the space feel even larger. A DJ stood elevated at the far end of the room, controlling the flow of sound with precision, his hands gliding over the mixer as if conducting an orchestra. I recognized the popular Katy Perry tune almost instantly. AsDark Horsepumped through the speakers, I couldn’t help but compare the lyrics to my relationship with Anton. He was theperfect storm, something I didn’t quite understand yet couldn’t resist—like playing with magic.

I continued to scan the crowd, barely having a chance to take it all in before I noticed the way the women were dressed—or rather, the way they weren’t dressed like me. I was surrounded by sheer fabrics and sky-high heels, dresses that were mere suggestions of clothing and left very little to the imagination. Some dared to wear nothing but lingerie, their exposed skin glittering under the lights.

I glanced down at my black dress, then leaned in toward Anton. Pressing up on my tiptoes, I spoke into his ear so that I could be heard above the music.

“I can’t say I would wear any of the outfits I’m seeing here, but I’m severely overdressed. I should’ve worn something different.”

He turned his head slightly, his dark gaze sweeping over me in a way that sent a shiver down my spine.

“You’re perfect.”

“I look like I’m going to a cocktail party, not—” I gestured at the crowd of barely-clothed women dancing like they were performing some kind of ritual. “I don’t even know what’s happening here.”

Anton chuckled. “Come on, princess. Let’s get a drink.”

As if sensing my hesitation, Anton’s fingers curled around my wrist, guiding me through the mass of bodies toward the bar. His grip was firm and possessive, his presence commanding as people instinctively stepped aside to let him pass. The polished bar stretched the length of the wall, illuminated by soft blue under-lighting. Shelves of liquor bottles glowed against a mirrored backdrop, their reflections casting fractured patterns of light.

Anton leaned against the bar, catching the attention of the bartender. She was striking—long legs, high cheekbones, and a perfect figure poured into a barely-there black bodysuit. Likeeverything else in this place, she shimmered under the lights. Her sleek ponytail emphasized her high cheekbones, and when she turned to Anton, her lips curved into a practiced, sultry smile.

“What can I get you?” she asked, her voice smooth and directed entirely at Anton.

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