Page 3 of Dangerous Attraction

Closing my eyes, I prayed my Nonna was right. The time was drawing closer for me to take over as head of the family. When that happened, I wanted… no,neededsomeone by my side.

If I was to be king, Ineededmy queen.

two

MADISON

Staringat the letter in my hand, I refused to let the tears fall. Another past due notice about my rent, reminding me my life was an utter failure. I moved to Vegas to attend college, only to learn the scholarship I’d been given didn’t cover room and board. Living in this shithole, which I’d received the notice for, was the only affordable option. At least, it was until I lost my job.

The restaurant where I’d waitressed burned down three weeks ago, leaving me jobless and now almost homeless. It was hard finding an employer who’d work with my school hours—a job I waswillingto work. Being a card dealer or stripper was not a source of income I’d compromise myself for, and waitress jobs in Vegas with enough hours to sustain my living expenses were impossible to find.

Sighing, I flopped onto my raggedy couch. It was one of two pieces of furniture I had in my single-room apartment. The kitchenette looked like something out of the 1950s, with puke green appliances and shit brown Formica counters.

The bathroom was even worse, with a mildew-stained stand-in shower and a single vanity with a light fixture that could make the dead look deader. Kicking off my shoes, I pulled my computer into my lap. It was the most valuable thing I owned and literally held my life inside.

A foster kid since the age of nine, I’d learned early on material things weren’t important—food and water were all that mattered. I’d become hardened to life at an early age. My mother died when I was a child after a home invasion took her life. I watched her murder from a bedroom closet where she’d hidden me. She left to call for help, but they caught her before she had a chance and shot her in the head. My dad wasn’t home when it happened, thank God, because I would have been orphaned. Little did I know, only a year later, it would happen, anyway.

He worked every day to make ends meet and put food on the table. My dad was my universe—until he wasn’t. He began drinking to cope with the stress of raising a daughter on his own and losing the love of his life so violently. With counseling, I’d managed to be a normal kid. Well, as much as I could be after witnessing her death. I’d thought we’d have a chance at a normal life again. I waswrong.

I’d never forget the moment my life changed again. I’d been watching Sponge Bob when the police showed up to take me away. My dad had gotten shitfaced at the bar after work. Thinking he was invincible, he made a decision that altered not only my life, but the life of another family. His car crossed the double yellow line into oncoming traffic. The officer told me it was quick for both drivers, as if that was supposed to make a ten-year-old girl feel better.

Two days later, I was carted off to a group home for girls. Neither of my parents had any extended family left alive. Foster Care was the only viable option. At ten, adoption was likely never to happen—especially a child who’d potentially have emotional problems. Children over the age of seven rarely got adopted—everyone wanted a baby, and at ten, I was far from being considered an infant.

Shuffled from home to home, I learned how to adapt to my surroundings. Although counseling helped me, there were things that triggered my memories. I’d been lucky enough to have kind foster parents at each home I was placed in, but most couldn’t handle my episodes, resulting in another placement.

When I entered high school, I was fortunate enough to have a teacher who cared, Mrs. Dobbs. She was an older woman in her sixties with grown children of her own. Taking me under her wing, she pushed me hard and taught me to never be a victim of my circumstances.

When I graduated, Mrs. Dobbs shocked me with a gift… this laptop. It has been my prized possession ever since. Having limited funds meant I couldn’t afford a cell phone, which made finding employment hard. Business owners couldn’t seem to fathom someone my age not having one.

Video chats and email were my only forms of communication, and I made that clear to any potential employers. I had to make a hard choice—internet for school or a cell phone. Obviously, the internet won out. That was the first bill I paid, then rent, which luckily, included the utilities.

Glancing at the discarded letter, the red letters mocked me. I had to find a job, and fast. Being homeless wasn’t something I could afford to deal with. I was about to be a senior in college and being forced to drop out to find work would crush me when I’d worked so hard to graduate early. If everything went right, I’d graduate with my bachelor’s in business this semester at twenty-one, a semester earlier than most.

Opening a browser, I checked my email and noticed something from Diane, one of my classmates, in my inbox. Clicking on the message, I read her note.

Madison,

I know you said you were looking for work the other day. A friend of mine works at a nightclub called Discoteca just off the strip. She asked me if I knew anyone looking for work. It would be night hours and apparently, they pay REALLY well. Anyway, just thought I’d send you the info.

Diane.

Opening another window, I searched for Discoteca. The screen filled with images of an upscale bar. It was three stories, offering a private party area and a member-only club on the third floor. Clicking on the employment tab, I scanned the posting for jobs.

They were looking for additional waitstaff who could start immediately. Employees were offered a salary package and benefits if hired. Closing my eyes, I sent a quick prayer to anyone listening and filled out the form. After attaching my resume, I hit send and held my breath. It was the first real opportunity I’d had in weeks.

I sent in a few assignments to my professors, closed the lid, and laid my laptop on the floor. Forcing myself to stand, I headed into the shower. I had an early morning class, which meant an even earlier wake-up. Without funds for a car, I’d be walking to school. It took me about thirty minutes to get to campus on foot.

Maybe the fates would be in my favor, and I’d get a call back about the job.

Lord knew, I was two skips away from beingouton my ass.

three

MASSIMO

Pullingmy feet from their perch on the desk, I leaned back and placed my elbows on the desk.

“What do you mean, the shipment is missing?”

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