Page 60 of Tainted Princess
“Enzo, I—”
“I’m gonna give you the opportunity to walk away right now, but if you ever question me again, I won’t be so forgiving.”
Amber uncrossed her arms and from where I stood behind her, I could see her fingers shaking before she pressed them to her hips. She nodded once, then stepped to the side, allowing Enzo to see me again.
“Francesca,” he bit out, clearly done with bullshit for the night. “We’re leaving. Now.” Not waiting for my response, Enzo spun and headed back the way we had come, bypassing the office door and heading for the back exit.
Letting out a resigned sigh, I moved to follow, but Amber’s taloned hand snapped out, her forearm across my chest to block my path.
“I don’t know who the fuck you are,” she said, her voice full of venom, “but if you think you’re anything more than a quick fuck, you are sorely mistaken.”
I could have told her, but what would be the fun in that? Instead, I simply smiled, knowing it was a hollow and frightening thing she saw. Amber’s lip curled in disgust before she flipped her hair over her shoulder and strutted away, hips swaying.
I really should practice that hair flipping move; that was fierce.
Pushing my way out of the door, I took a deep breath, the cool air of the desert night refreshing after the stale and sweaty atmosphere of the club.
Hearing the sound of an expensive car engine, I looked to the side and spotted Enzo, his sleek McLaren growling in the darkness. Moving quickly, I slid into the passenger seat, barely getting the door closed before the car shot out of the parking lot and into the street.
“You wanna tell me what the fuck that was?” he asked, his hands gripping the steering wheel like he was trying to rip the thing off.
“Which part?” I snarked, knowing I had put on more than one show for him tonight. “The part where I saved your ass? Twice?” He narrowed his eyes at me, the streetlights casting his face in shadow as we passed, but I carried on. “Or the part where you completely disregarded my more than factual information regarding a drug dealer in your establishment?” He opened his mouth, but I didn’t stop. “Or maybe you mean Club Crawl Barbie and her less than intimidating backroom threats.”
“We’ll get your work on the Vice squad later,” he said, the corner of his mouth lifting sardonically as he ignored my last comment. “First, why don’t you tell me about the part where you blackmailed a government official while you basically removed his dick and stomped it into the ground.”
I snorted. “Your boy Jerry needed to be taken down a peg or two. He sat there on his high horse, thinking he was somehow superior to you, when in reality, he was exactly the same. A criminal. The only difference is he was still pretending not to be. So, fuck him.”
I expected some smart-assed response, something to put me in my place and remind me that a woman was not welcome to speak in situations like the one with Jerry. After all, how many times had men in my life told me exactly that. Reminded me that my ideas and input were not needed or appreciated, all while staring down my shirt as I served them drinks.
But Enzo didn’t say anything. I looked at him, wanting to try and gauge his mood by the look on his face, but in the shadows all I could see were the darkened pits where his eyes hid, looking less like the gravestone... and more like the grave.
