14
I couldn’t deny the disappointment I felt each time I watched her leave from the live feed in my office. If I had even an ounce of a moral compass, I’d feel slightly guilty, maybe even disgusted, at my growing obsession with this woman. But I couldn’t be bothered. I’d indulge in her beauty when I saw fit, whether from the comfort of my space, stage-side, or our purposeful interactions.
Inflated head , I repeated in my thoughts with a chuckle. It was the second time she’d let her guard down with me. But I needed more.
We’d had a moment, she and I, when eye contact wasn’t necessary because I felt her passion from across the room. No one else existed at that moment. Amara had performed for me.
Slamming my glass of scotch against the wooden desk, I stormed to my feet. Watching her dance for a room full of men was becoming more difficult the stronger my obsession grew. Knowing they coveted her the way I did, were mesmerized by her the way I was, it made me want to lock her up and keep her for myself.
Although something told me, Amara Carvalho wouldn’t be kept.
Movement from the corner of my eye shifted my attention back to the monitors as she emerged from the back door. The knot she usually wore in her hair at the end of her shifts was missing. Tonight, she’d left her curls loose. Black dress pants and a sleeveless top also replaced the more casual outfits she’d changed into.
“Where are you going, preziosa ?” I whispered to myself.
She reached her car, but without losing her stride, passed the small Audi and headed toward the sidewalk.
Drawing in a strained breath, I gripped the edge of the desk and warred with the overwhelming urge to follow her.
1 a.m.
The streets of Miami were no place for her at this hour. I snatched my key fob from the drawer and tore out the door.
I had no doubt I looked crazed as I ran through the lot, reaching the curb just in time to see her turn a corner.
People stumbling out of clubs, bars, and the pier still littered the street. Some looked at me in annoyance as I split their friend groups, bulldozing through and making no effort to lose pace for anyone. When I reached the corner she’d disappeared behind, I thought I saw the back of her hair, but before I could confirm, a young man, probably too young to drink, plowed into me before falling on his ass.
“What the fuck! Watch where you’re fucking go—” he’d started to say, until the look on my face made him pause.
Without wasting another second, I dusted my suit sleeve and pressed forward. I hadn’t felt the heat of a Miami summer night until then. Cursing, I slipped the jacket off my shoulders and tossed it. My cuff links came next.
“Thank you!” shouted a homeless man perched against a brick building. I offered the poor bastard a subtle nod as I continued down the sidewalk while simultaneously rolling up my sleeves.
As I approached a busy crosswalk, I expected to see Amara’s curls, but she was nowhere to be found.
“ Cazzo! ” I seethed, coming to a stop once I realized I’d lost her.
“Do you make it a habit to follow all your employees?”
I whipped around to the sound of her voice, and there she was, like a goddess, leaning against the glass of a storefront, eyes trained on me. But something was different about her stance, demeanor, and how she sized me up as if it were our first meeting, and she was unsure of my intentions. I supposed I couldn’t blame her.
Clearing my throat, I sifted through excuses that wouldn’t make me sound like some perverse stalker. Until I realized, I didn’t care.
“Well?” she pressed, stepping away from the wall. I noted the tension in her posture, and if I hadn’t known better, I’d probably be worried she’d put a bullet through my face.
“No. Only you, preziosa .”
Her blue eye twitched. “Don’t call me that.”
I slid my hands into my pockets. “I saw you leave, and it’s late. I thought maybe—”
“Do you hear yourself? You went out of your way to follow me because— it’s late ?”
“I know what that sounds like—”
“Yeah, like you’re overstepping boundaries.” Amara was just inches from me now, fire in her eyes and an accusatory finger pointed at my chest. “First, I’m a grown woman—what I do, where I go, and when is none of your business. Two, don’t ever follow me. Outside of Illusion’s walls, I don’t answer to you.”
We remained locked in a stare-down. Where I would have lashed out at anyone attempting to berate and disrespect me, a tongue-lashing from Amara was rather enjoyable. Against my better judgment, I cracked a smile and put my hands up defensively.
“I didn’t mean to intrude or overstep any boundaries, as you say. Those were not my intentions. But these streets can be brutal, especially for a beautiful woman walking alone.” A counterargument was brewing on her lips, but I spoke first. “And you’re right, outside of the club, I’m not your boss. But your car is still on my lot so, technically, you’re still under my supervision. And part of the job is ensuring my dancers are always safe.”
She released an incredulous scoff. “That’s bullshit.”
“Maybe. But it’s the best I’ve got.”
With a shake of her head and what I could have sworn was the hint of a smile, Amara looked up and down the street, as if searching for someone, and I immediately felt a twisting in my gut. Was she going on a date?
“Listen, not that I need to explain myself to you, but I just wanted to get some air. And, as you can see, I’m fine.”
“This air sucks,” I said, futilely shoving my sleeves farther into the crook of my elbows, seeking every ounce of relief before it came down to ripping open my shirt.
She couldn’t hold back her smile this time.
“You better hurry back then.”
With one last sweeping glance at my inked forearms, she turned toward the crosswalk.
“Amara.” The slightest hesitation at the sound of her name caused her pace to falter. But she recovered and continued across the street.
I should have gone back, kept my distance, and stopped trying to forge a friendship she clearly did not want. But when I spotted the small cafe ahead, open to the beach, passing up the opportunity was no longer an option.
“Can I offer a mango smoothie as a peace offering?” I asked, catching up with her. She didn’t immediately react to my presence, as she was busy punching a message into her phone.
A small, resigned breath fled her lips, and she stopped abruptly.
“You must not be used to hearing the word no, huh?” How her eyes suddenly widened and avoided mine set off alarms, but I waited for her to elaborate. The patience and restraint I had with this woman almost scared me.
“I didn’t mean it…like that.”
I dared to reach out and tip her chin and, as expected, she moved away from my touch. But despite having followed her and persisting to remain in her company, I had a feeling that whatever message she’d received had been the one responsible for souring her mood.
“My offer still stands.”
Amara peered down the street, and then back at me, debating whether to accept. “Fine. Lead the way,” she finally said, falling in step as I crossed the intersection.
“Were you meeting a friend?”
“Something like that.”
Apart from Cambri, she seemed to keep to herself, so a night out with one of the other girls was unlikely, which left the possibility of a date. The thought of Amara meeting with some random man at this late hour made my blood burn a little hotter. So I decided to pry.
“You don’t seem too torn about it?”
She focused on the path ahead, but I noted her brief side-eye.
“Why don’t you ask what you really want to know?”
The way this woman made me smile more than I ever had in anyone’s company besides Silas’s was uncanny. “And according to you, what do I wish to know?”
Everything was the correct answer. But I’d take the scraps of whatever she was willing to give, pathetic as it was.
“It was only coffee. Cambri set us up—something about not getting out often enough.” Again, her gaze slid toward me, accompanied by a cunning little grin. “Or getting laid.”
Fire. My blood blazed at the thought of another man touching her. My only consolation was that, somehow, I knew she was fucking with me.
“It’s a good thing he canceled then.”
Amara’s grin stretched. “Is it?”
“Yeah, very much.”
Her eyebrow arched, and the edges of her white teeth caught her bottom lip. She said nothing more about the subject and kept walking until we reached a small cafe with outdoor seating just off the beach. I led her to a corner table with a view of the ocean. Despite the darkness, the streetlights and those from the various vendors lining the strip were enough to illuminate the shore, where soft waves crashed against white sand.
I’d never visited this cafe, but I prayed they had mango smoothies, as it was the first thing that had come to mind in my desperate attempt to remain in her company.
“Looks like we have to order at the desk after hours. Mango?”
“Surprise me.”
I placed our order with the cashier, a smoothie for her and a water for me, turning around in time to catch a man approaching Amara at the table. I wondered briefly if he’d been her date, who’d decided to show, after all. But her indifference told me otherwise. She shook her head and folded her arms, resting against the back of her chair. But instead of moving along, the asshole leaned a hand on the table and into her personal space. I was at her side before my next breath, close enough to the foolish stranger that his face nearly brushed me as he straightened.
“Are you lost?”
“No, I was just—”
“Leaving,” I gritted out, stepping closer.
The man’s eyes flitted to Amara for a millisecond, and I almost thought he wanted to get brave. But it turned out he rather enjoyed his life and kept quiet as he retreated.
“He didn’t disrespect you, did he?”
“No, but if he had, what makes you think I’d let it slide?”
I took a seat. “That’s not the point. I’d have handled him whether or not you sent him to hell.”
“Is that what you do, Mr. Leone?”
Her question was vague, but I knew exactly what she was asking. My family was well-known in the area when Uncle Lorenzo established his connections and business dealings years ago before expanding with the construction of Illusion. It was an unspoken truth among the patrons and employees. But our reputation preceded us. The opinions or assumptions of the masses had never interested me before now.
What would Amara think of me as a man in the business of murder for hire? And why did that suddenly matter?
“Defend women against disrespectful assholes?”
“Sure,” she said with a sarcastic tone.
“No. Again, only you.”
“Well, at least you’re consistent.”
She had to feel how the air between us ignited with every word and every time I lost myself in her eyes.
The cashier announced our order number, interrupting the moment. My moment.
“How about we take those to go?”
We took off down the street, drinks in hand. I allowed her a slight head start as we reached the crosswalk, indulging in her perfect curves and sweet ass.
“You and Cambri are close, yeah?”
“We are. She’s like a sister to me.”
“I have someone like that in my life. He doesn’t live here, but we’re as close to brothers as it gets. And you, do you have family close by?”
“No.”
Always with the vague responses. “They live out of state?”
“I don’t have family,” she said, very matter-of fact, eyes still focused ahead.
Everyone has or had somebody, but it was evident the subject wasn’t up for discussion. I’d respect her privacy—for now. In the meantime, I’d enjoy watching how her lips wrapped around that straw.
“How’d you end up at Illusion?” It was a loaded question. I knew that. I was willing to risk her wrath if it meant gaining even the slightest knowledge of her life.
Her eyebrow twitched, and she gripped her cup a little tighter. “The same way you did,” she said with a slightly taunting lilt.
“How so?”
“I walked through the front door, Mr. Leone. ”
“Fair enough,” I replied with a chuckle. “Amara, please call me Santino.”
We reached the club’s lot. Not yet ready to leave her company, I dreaded every step closer to her black Audi.
“That sounds a bit too personal. I wouldn’t want you to get the wrong idea. To assume that you and I are…friends. Especially after tonight.”
“Or just friendly.”
“Maybe I’m not the friendly type.”
“Even better.”
Perhaps she thought keeping me at an arm’s length would put me off, but everything about Amara drew me in. Not only was she stunning, but she was the most intriguing mystery. Maybe I was biased, as she had struck me from the moment I saw her on that stage, but something told me she didn’t belong in a place like this.
Vibrations from her phone diverted her attention, and when she opened the text message, her slight smile faltered despite her best effort at a poker face.
“I have to go,” she blurted, tearing open the car door and damn near leaping inside.
I caught the door, and she froze, startled by my response. But I didn’t give a damn. Not when she was clearly disturbed by whatever news she’d received. “Wait, is everything okay?”
“Everything is fine.” Despite her seemingly practiced, even tone, Amara’s voice held an edge.
“Then why are you racing off like this?”
“Goodbye, Mr. Leone,” she said, tugging the door closed. Without another glance, Amara pulled off, tires screeching against the blacktop as she recklessly merged into traffic.