“There’s this awesome club here called Seven Deadly Sins.”
“Oh, I like it already.”
She nods. “They have these private rooms for each sin.”
“Sounds fun.”
“It is by far the best club I’ve ever been to.”
I eye her skeptically as she smooths down her dress in the floor-length mirror. She turns around and looks at her ass over her shoulder. “You’re fucking someone who works there.” It was more of a statement than a question.
She chuckles “I am. I’ll message him before we get there, and he’ll let us in the back.”
“It is serious?” I ask. I’ve known Emilee all my life, and I’ve never seen her fall in love with a guy. I don’t know if she just hides her emotions that well, or if she truly can just use a guy. Maybe Bones broke her.
I hate that I’ve only ever slept with Luca, and that I can’t get over the fact I love him so much. I want to be more like her. Detached.
She frowns. “No, it’s just a little fun”
“What does he do at the club? What’s his name? I wanna know all about him.”
The guy turned out to be a pretty nice guy. Not to mention gorgeous in that I’ll kick anyone’s ass kind of way. I could totally understand why he was head of security. We got to watch him in action twice that night.
He put us up in one of the rooms with a waitress who kept the drinks flowing all night. After the club closed, we went out and ate breakfast with him. Then he drove us back to Emilee’s apartment. I went inside while he kissed her goodbye on her porch—I might have watched out the window—and then he left. We stayed up a few more hours laughing and sharing a bottle of Riesling she had until we made our way down to the closest gas station and bought a pack of cigarettes. We had only ever smoked one other time in college. For some reason, we both thought it would be a great idea to try it again.
She didn’t care that much for it, so I put them in my suitcase. The same ones that were packed and brought here to Luca’s. We were drunk and really didn’t know what we were doing then, but I light one up every now and then.
Keeping my eyes shut, I take another drag of the cigarette. I miss her so much and wish that she were here. Hell, I wish I could talk to her. Luca may have taken my cell away, but I found a phone in his study earlier today. I waited for Nite to stop me, but when he didn’t, I dialed her number. She didn’t answer, and I didn’t leave a voicemail. What would I say? Hey, E. I’ve been forced to marry Luca, and I wish you were here to help me through it? I just hung up.
“What in the fuck are you doing?”
My eyes spring open, and I jump at the sound of his voice. “Luca …”
“Since when did you start fucking smoking?” he demands, his blue eyes narrowed on the cigarette between my fingers.
I bring it to my lips. “I do a lot of things you don’t know about.”
He snatches it from my fingers and puts it out on the railing.
“Hey!”
He grips my upper arm, pulling me from the balcony and through the open door into his bedroom. My eyes fall to the massive bed that sits up against the wall with its white comforter and burgundy sheets. And I think of how many women he’s had there, and I hate it. I hate that he makes me jealous and that he’s brought me here in the first place.
“Let go of me.” I try yanking my arm free of his hold, but he just grips me tighter.
He walks over to a door, yanks it open, and shoves me inside. I spin around to face him just as he shoves it closed in Nite’s face.
Fisting my hands, I turn to see we’re in a closet. He shoulders past me, walking down the short and narrow structure, then he takes a left and disappears. Rubbing my upper arm, I follow him. I’ve always dreamed of my things being in here Now I wanna burn my shit so I don’t have to fill it. We make the turn, and it opens to a large room. The left side is full of white shelves from the floor to the ceiling. Ahead of me are different-sized cubbies with rods to hang clothes on in various sizes. It looks the same but different.
In the middle is a silver dresser with a glass top. Running my hands over it, I smudge the glass with my fingers. We had sex on it once. It has three large drawers. Walking around the other side, I open the top drawer. It’s long but not very deep. It’s covered in black velvet, and the indentions let me know it’s for jewelry. I pause when I spot the Harry Winston three-carat emerald sitting in a platinum setting on the fifth row. It looks out of place.