Page 40 of Fortress of the King

Casa De what?

“Um, where is that, please?”

He pulls out into the evening traffic. “His townhouse, miss.”

I swallow hard but smile in thanks as I sit back in the chair and stare out the window.

Like a fucking call girl, I’ve primmed myself up like meat in a raffle. And instead of going out to a restaurant, he’s going to seduce me at his house, where nobody can see. I guess this way it is easier with nosy prying eyes like that girl Allegra who seemed to notice an awful lot.

I chew on my lip and ponder what I’m going to do. A million things run through my mind.

What if we have a one-night stand, and that’s it? He seems like a one-time kinda guy.

And that won’t do because I need to get close to him. If I’m no good to him, it means the job is over.

I close my eyes.

Steel yourself, Rayne. You can do this. He’s just a man, flesh and blood.

Yes, a very dangerous man, and now I’m caught in his lair with nowhere left to run.

I’ve been acting the part for so long now, it almost feels like it’s natural to ignore my feelings or anything negative that screams at me to get the hell out of the car, and that’s the most dangerous thing of all.

* * *

I stare up at the sand-colored bricks and try not to gape.

I’ve seen his house on a Google search, but the photos don’t do this place justice.

It’s magnificent.

It’s three stories, with black wrought iron detailing around a high wall. The brick has ivy growing up and around the building, making it look ethereal, like it doesn’t belong in the city.

I never thought he’d live in a place so pretty and almost feminine-looking.

A set of huge black front doors with gold handles stand proudly. The facade is so elegant and sophisticated that I’m almost sure I’m underdressed to set foot inside.

Gus opens my door for me, and I thank him as I get out.

When I reach the front door, I ring the bell. A few moments later, a woman answers the door.

She’s dressed in a neat black dress with small heels and an apron.

“Miss Michaelson,” she says before I even get a chance to answer. “Please come this way.”

I follow her inside and try not to roll my eyes. Of course, this is a great display of his wealth thrown in my face. Like a lion stalking its prey, Mr. Medici just has to show off all of his grandeur.

Diamonds. Champagne. Fancy cars. Drivers. Multiple houses. Staff at his beck and call.

I don’t quite know how people live like this.

I glance up and I’m met with a huge chandelier dangling from the ceiling, at least three stories up. It glitters and sparkles like diamonds in the sky.

There’s a grand staircase with dark mahogany wood to my right, and the entire foyer is donned with soft, white speckled marble floors.

It probably cost more money than I’ll see in this lifetime.

I follow behind as the woman leads me through the foyer, passing by a massive wine cellar with clear doors and a huge study with a large desk and a whole wall full of books. I can see a laptop and a pair of glasses laid on top of some papers.His workspace. Excellent.

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