Page 4 of Blossom in Shadows

“Get your hand off me,” I seethe.

She blinks at me a few times before slowly taking a step back as if she’s afraid I’m going to lash out at her. Maybe she does have a brain and it’s telling her to be cautious around the apex predator. It’s the first smart thing she’s done.

“Get out. We don’t employ whores,” I snarl the words and she flees.

I rub my temples because the headache I’ve been fighting all day is now bearing down on me. The music is still playing in the room, the same music which would be playing if we were open right now. The room is starting to get smaller around me, but I push the sensation way.

I need to get through this and do right by my brother. He’s been right next to me my entire life. Even though he knew he wasn’t going to sit on the throne of the Agosti family, it never made him look at me as if I was in the way of his own greatness. Constantino is an asset, and I’ve always treated him as such.

Sala brings in revenue to the point that we’ve been talking about opening another club. I can only hope it does as well as this one. The legal aspects of our family empire are there to hide the other side of our business. They give us legitimacy when, really, we shouldn’t have any.

“Next,” the word is a clipped shout as I settle back to watch the next audition.

The next few women are an improvement, but nothing special. I dismiss them fairly quickly by letting them know we’ll be in touch about the position. I’ve never been one to make rash decisions, I like to know all the options first and this situation is no different.

I’m hanging on by a thread when I call what I hope is the last audition. My head turns toward the sound of light footfalls. I notice the slight limp the woman is walking with first, but my breath catches in my throat when I take in the lithe way her body moves. She has on simple leggings and a cropped sweatshirt, nothing like the revealing clothing of the other women who have auditioned today.

Her dark hair cascades around her shoulders and when she tucks some of it behind her ear to reveal her face, I can’t look away. She’s not wearing any makeup, but even in profile she’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. There is something delicate about her features and the way she moves, but there is also strength there.

She moves into the area where the auditions have been taking place on a section of the dance floor and turns toward me slowly. Her eyes widen when she looks at me, but her reaction is quickly pushed away, and she squares her shoulders. When she shifts on her feet, I can see a flash of pain in her eyes, and it kills me to see it there.

I want to stand up and wrap her in my arms to make sure she never knows another second of pain, but I’m rooted to the spot in my seat instead. Everything around us dissolves as I stare into her brown eyes.

“Please, dance,” my voice is low and husky.

It feels like she’s going to be dancing just for me.

I wish it were true. I’m the only man who should see the way her body moves, to see the way her hair curls around her shoulders and caresses the swell of her breasts, to see the way her midriff is on display.

I’m the only man who should ever think of touching her. The thought of anyone else putting their hands on her has possessiveness rising in me I’ve never known before. If any other man thinks to put his hands on her, I’d chop them off and then torture him until he knows the sin he has committed.

My heart is hammering against the inside of my chest as she starts to move with fluid grace which has my eyes roaming over her body and imagining her naked. Just for me. Only for me.

Mine.

I swallow hard. I’ve never seen a woman and known she is mine before. Is this what Constantino felt? Luca? Lorenzo?

How do they function like this every day? Because it feels like my blood is pumping too hard in my body and if I don’t touch her, caress her, and hold her close then I might explode.

Her movements are simple, but I’m entranced. There’s nothing showy about her, unlike the rest of the women who have auditioned today. There is only movement which speaks to my soul.

When her eyes slide closed and her body takes over, she gets lost in the movement. Why do I get the feeling she’s capable of so much more?

I don’t know a damn thing about dancing, but this audition feels like it is beneath her. Why isn’t she on stage somewhere dancing in front of audiences who flock to the theater just to see her? Anything less than that is a tragedy and my heart breaks as I watch her.

Something is wrong and I vow to find out what it is and then make it right.

“Enough,” my voice is a low rasp, and her movement stops immediately.

I stand slowly and watch as her eyes take in all of me as I stalk towards her. She’s a fucking queen but has no idea the power she has. I’ll show her.

I long to touch her, but I keep my hands fisted at my sides instead. Because she is a weakness, one I can’t afford. That doesn’t mean I won’t keep her though. I will. I’ll keep her all for myself and figure out the rest later.

“What’s your name,Reginetta?”

“Zinnia,” she whispers, and it blows through me like a summer wind through a garden. She eyes me curiously. “Is the audition done?”

“Yes, it is,” my voice is aloof as I fight against my primal instinct to take her to the ground and claim her right here.

---