Page 17 of Scarred Heir
“You could, but then I’ll have to tell Milo you’re the reason I missed our date.” I shrugged. “Just tell him Sable is here to see him. If he doesn’t know who I am, then you can call security.”
“I’ll be right back,” she said. “But if Mr. Accetti isn’t expecting you and I interrupt him for no reason, you’ll be sorry.”
“Noted.” I shot her an obnoxiously fake smile as she walked away.
“Sable?” Chance asked. “What the hell are you doing?”
“Saving you.”
“By provoking Milo Accetti?” His jaw tightened. “You were there when he said he would kill me and make you watch.”
“If we went back to his club.” I waved around the room. “This is not his club.”
“It’s still his territory.” He shook his head when he saw the uptight hostess heading back toward us. “I hope you know what you’re doing.”
The hostess approached us, eyeing me with more contempt than when I had first arrived.
“Mr. Accetti will see you.” She turned her back to us. “Followme.”
I glanced over my shoulder. “Just trust me,” I said to my brother, even though I wasn’t sure what I was doing.
We walked through the crowded restaurant and to a secluded room with three tables spread out. Milo sat alone with his back toward the wall, facing the entrance. I read once, or maybe I saw it in a movie, that gangsters liked to see who came toward them when they were eating. No one wanted to get shot in the back, I guessed.
Milo poured wine into his glass as we reached his table. Once we were in front of him, he looked up but didn’t say anything.
“Should I bring your guests’ menus?” the annoyed hostess asked.
“Not yet, Anna.” He flashed her a charming grin, but I had seen the devil in his expression when he threatened to kill Chance. “I’ll let you know if I need anything.”
“Whatever you need.” She bit the corner of her lip. “I’m around.”
He watched as her incredibly fit backside swayed away from the table with the rest of her obnoxious self before looking at me. As much as I hated to admit it, he looked even sexier than he had last week. He had grown out the stubble on his jaw, shaping it into a light, perfectly manicured beard.
The thin, silver hoop in his left nostril caught my attention as it shimmered under the dull lighting in the room. He didn’t have that last week. I liked it.
“Are you going to tell me what you’re doing here, or are you going to gawk at me all night?” He smirked. “I don’t mind if that’s what you came here to do, but did you have to bring him?”
“I have a proposition for you.” I fought the urge towriggle my hands because I wanted to appear as confident as possible.
“That’s interesting, because a week ago, you didn’t want anything to do with me. You refused when I offered to get you home safely. What’s changed?”
More than I wanted to admit, but for whatever reason, my desperation brought me to him. Being here was either the most brilliant idea I had ever come up with, or one of the most absurd plans I’d ever hatched.
“Sit down.” He pulled out the chair next to him and pointed for me to sit. “It’s impolite to proposition me when you’re standing over me.” He waved his finger across the table at the chair facing him. “You sit there,” he told Chance.
When I took a seat, the intoxicating scent of his cologne swirled between us. It was comforting in an odd ‘I want to be taken care of by a killer’ kind of way.
“What was so important that you had to interrupt my dinner?” He glared at Chance. “What did you do now?”
“He got into some trouble with Romeo,” I said. “Someone came to our apartment, but we managed to get out using the fire escape.”
“What kind of trouble?” The muscles in his face tightened.
“Well, he?—”
“No.” Milo held up his hand. “I want to hear it from him.”
“This is none of your business,” Chance said.
