19. Leo
19
LEO
M y fist raps against the restroom door, the sound echoing down the mostly empty hallway.
Nothing happens, and I knock again, harder this time. Every muscle in my body tenses and strains, like I’m on the verge of a panic attack. “Stella, it’s been several minutes now. If you don’t exit by the time I count to ten, I’m coming in.”
A hand grabs my shoulder when my foot connects with the door, pushing it open. “I’d suggest calming the fuck down before they haul your ass out of here.”
The bathroom is empty, and the light isn’t even on. I scan the immediate area, searching for a window or trapdoor she could have slipped out through, but there’s nothing at all.
She didn’t come here.
She left .
A chill skates down my spine at the realization. I was evidently too fucking distracted by her scent and those little sounds of pleasure to notice that she was scheming.
Shoving Frankie away, I take in his flushed cheeks and the partially untucked shirt beneath his navy suit jacket. “Where the hell have you been? You’re supposed to be keeping an eye on my wife. There are actual dangerous variables surrounding this situation, you know.”
Yet I’ve been solely interested in playing house. Or at least getting her back to mine. Perhaps if I’d been better at planning and communicating, we wouldn’t be in this fucking mess. If I’d told her about Gino and my men?—
Frankie bristles. “I thought you could handle her one-on-one. Isn’t that what you told me yesterday?”
“She’s smarter than both of us. That’s why I wanted two sets of eyes on her at all times.”
“Well, I thought you’d want some alone time.”
“That doesn’t fucking matter when I’m paying you to…” I watch his face grow taut with unease. Narrowing my eyes, I take a step toward him. “What is it? Where were you?”
He swallows, yanking at the knot in his tie. As I crowd closer to him, I note the red lipstick on his collar and the smudge at one corner of his mouth. When Genevieve approaches a few seconds later, I’m not even a little shocked to see her lips match the shade.
“Leopoldo.” She greets me with a coy smile. “I think you should get back in that auction room.”
When I walk into the ballroom, I’m half expecting an ambush. It isn’t like Genevieve is entirely loyal to me, so it wouldn’t be surprising to find that she’s working with the remaining De Tore Elders or even her own clan. Part of the issue with the criminal underground is that everyone is always looking for an opportunity to off a rival boss and take over their business.
I’m not anticipating the rage that zaps me like a lightning bolt when I glance to the front of the room and see my wife onstage with Reaper’s fucking hand on her ass. It glides up, around, and over her hip. Then he’s grazing the underside of her breast—almost bare, except for that sheer lace.
My teeth clench so hard that my vision blurs at the edges. I suppose this is what she thinks I deserve. To Stella Ricci, Leopoldo De Tore is the villain who wanted to keep her captive in a tower, not the prince who attempted to save her seven years ago.
I stalk back to the table we abandoned just minutes ago and snatch my placard. Frankie slumps on the tabletop at my side, seemingly out of breath now.
My hand curls tightly around the placard’s wooden handle as the bid for Stella increases. Multiple arms fly up as Reaper highlights her virginity.
Blood roars between my ears, drowning out the white-haired auctioneer’s taunts. He moves to stand directly behind her, fitting himself against her backside, and lifts a hand to toy with her slender throat.
She looks like a deer caught in headlights when his fingers gently cup the column of her neck, and I can’t help wondering if she even knows what the hell she’s getting into. If I don’t get her—if another one of the guests places a winning bid—she’s fucked. They’ll expect their prize, and she’ll have no other choice but to spread her pretty thighs and let the winner between them.
Before the night is over, she’ll be an accomplice to murder. There’s no goddamn way anyone else is putting their hands on her and leaving here in one piece.
“Well?” Frankie snaps, gesturing toward the stage. “Are you going to bid or not?”
I exhale slowly through my nose. “I can’t.”
He frowns. “Why the fuck not? We didn’t come all the way here to watch your wife go to someone else.”
“The escrow account’s already been drained getting that goddamn orchid. I didn’t think I’d need more.” The point of the accounts is to verify the money before it’s exchanged and simplify the purchase, but there’s a finite amount loaded upon our arrival. I can’t add more now.
She was supposed to be in my bed tonight, in my arms, ready to rejoin my life. Sure, I knew she’d need a little cajoling, but that’s what the proposed sex was for.
I gave the woman seven years to herself. You’d think she’d be willing to accept fate’s intervention by now.
Tapping my fingers on the table, I watch as someone else across the audience darts a hand into the air. Reaper grins, and Stella’s mouth slackens to the point where I wonder if he’s applying the slightest pressure to her throat. Showing the crowd how she reacts to his touch so they know what they’re purchasing.
I can’t kill such an important Black Rose Auction centerpiece like Reaper, but whoever wins my wife will likely be less consequential than him.
“Going once…” Reaper says, pressing his nose to the crown of Stella’s head. “Going twice…”
Genevieve appears beside Frankie, her dark eyes wide. “What are you doing ? You’re letting someone else buy her virginity when you didn’t even want me kissing her last night?”
Ignoring her, I lay my placard down on the table, fold my hands over my lap, and take several deep breaths.
When Reaper announces that she’s been sold, panic seizes my lungs. I force myself to remain in place.
Even as he guides the brunette offstage, somewhere farther away from me where I can no longer see, I stay still. The attendees begin dispersing as the end of the auction is announced, and we’re directed to the various areas where we can collect our prizes.
I stare at a warped circle on the table as the overhead lights flicker on one by one. Genevieve says something, but it’s light-years away, traveling through muddy space and time.
I fucked up. That’s all there is to it.
There were probably a million ways I could’ve gone about retrieving Stella, but giving her this much freedom was a mistake.
One I need to rectify immediately.
Turning to Frankie, I slide my placard beneath his fingers. “Fetch me that orchid, would you? Bring it to the suite, and do not leave it unattended. If you take your eyes off it for one second, I’ll remove both from your skull.”
He nods once. “Where will you be?”
“I’ll be staying in the Glass Tower.”
“The Glass Tower?” he asks. “No one ever gets that room. It’s almost impossible to get out of.”
“Because the elevator barely works,” Genevieve adds. “You’re liable to be crushed in it before you even reach the top.”
“I’m not concerned with that. I happen to know there’s a locked stairwell inside, and the concierge can grant me access.”
Genevieve shakes her head. “Are you not attending the play party tomorrow?”
I cut her a scathing glance. “Try not to sound so disappointed, Mrs. Deveraux. You’re lucky you’re still alive after everything you pulled.”
She holds up her hands. “I wasn’t implying anything. God. I was just saying…whoever just bid on your wife might drag her to that. I hear it’s hunter-and-prey themed, so maybe?—”
“Stella will not be in attendance. You don’t need to worry.” Tension spins a deadly web in my gut at the thought of my wife traipsing through these unfamiliar grounds, trying to escape someone other than me.
“What are you going to do, kidnap her?” Genevieve quips.
Frankie and I share a look.
She drops her head back with a groan. “ Men . Why don’t you just try talking to her?”
“Stella’s past the point of listening to reason.”
Plus, what would I even say? How do you explain complex feelings for a woman you barely know when you aren’t even sure what exactly those emotions are in the first place?
Maybe I didn’t think this through enough. I should just give her an annulment and cut my losses while I can. Lead Gino and whoever he brings along away from her and end them, once and for all.
The Commission would definitely have my ass for their deaths, but meeting my own demise would be preferable to existing any longer without my wife at my side.
Yet the idea of leaving the auction without her is completely unappealing.
An hour and a half later, I’ve managed to successfully convince the concierge to switch my room and give me the second key card for the stairs. They didn’t seem particularly averse to the idea since no one else wanted to stay in the old thing anyway.
Frankie transfers my luggage to the tower, begrudgingly using the elevator when I don’t accompany him. He’s not happy about it, but since I’ve yet to find Stella on the premises, I don’t give a fuck. If I want him to be my bag boy for the rest of our lives, then so be it.
He’ll do whatever I say, or I’ll put a bullet in his head. I’m past the point of caring about anything beyond my wife.
Inside my pants pocket, my phone buzzes, and I immediately take it out, pressing it to my ear. “Speak.”
“You could stand to be nicer,” Genevieve says, though her voice is little more than white noise as I scan the crowd, searching every face for Stella. “Especially since I’m trying to help you.”
“Where’s Frankie?”
“Off to serve as proxy for the flower you bought. It’s kind of disgusting how much money you spent on that thing, by the way.”
I grunt. “What do you want, Deveraux?”
“I found your girl. She’s with Damiano Candreva from the Gambini extension in the city.”
Shit. Damiano is notorious for fucking fast and hard, leaving a trail of trouble and heartbreak in his wake. In the last year, he’s stolen the virginities and identities of at least thirteen women, then framed them for various racketeering crimes.
I can only imagine what he wants with a Ricci, considering Rafael’s notoriety still remains despite his death.
Irritation knots my muscles. None of this would've happened if she’d just let me explain .
Then again, if I’d explained everything to her seven years ago, maybe we wouldn’t have spent such a long time apart. Maybe we wouldn’t be here at all.
I can’t blame her for doing what she thought was best for herself, especially when I placed the opportunity right in her hands.
“Where?” I snap to Genevieve, rage pounding in my chest.
“Southern courtyard. Hedge maze? I’m not exactly sure, but Reaper said you’d?—”
I don’t bother asking what she did to the auctioneer to get him to talk, hanging up before she can finish her sentence.
Outside, partygoers mill about, sipping from their champagne flutes and engaging in idle chatter. Occasionally, I pass a couple or more tangled up, half hidden in the shadows, their bare skin exposed in the fading sunlight. This place, packed with the country’s elite, is a safe space for their explorations.
What happens at the Black Rose Auction stays at the Black Rose Auction. Usually.
I don’t intend to let that sentiment extend to Stella unless I’m attached to it. Our time together won’t stay at the auction—I intend for it to continue past the event itself. It’s only a matter of convincing her that a life with me wouldn’t be as miserable as she thinks.
I’d be good to her.
I’m not the monster I used to be, and perhaps kidnapping isn’t the way to prove that to her, but my options are limited. I’m running out of time.
A flash of dark hair catches my eye just before disappearing beneath the massive conservatory attached to the mansion. I notice the white lace of her dress, then the hand resting on the elbow of that Candreva prick. He leans down, angling his head, and leads her toward the hedge maze.
If I didn’t know better, I’d think they were a legitimate couple. She even smiles as he says something, her short laugh carrying across the wind and slicing right through me.
I wonder what I’ve missed—if they’ve already had their fun somehow since they left the ballroom. She didn’t seem to mind Reaper’s hands on her, so maybe my belief that she’s been waiting for me all this time has been wishful thinking. Maybe she eluded my security detail at some point over the years and let someone else have her.
Sliding my hands into my pockets, I stroll casually after them, whistling in the hopes of not drawing suspicion since I’m the only unpartnered guest outside.
The pair heads for the start of the maze, though Damiano walks in front of her now as if checking to make sure the coast is clear. My chest tightens, smugness rooting in the cavity at the fact he’s so incapable of keeping her safe.
How can you miss the danger lurking right behind you?
I follow them inside, still far enough away that neither seems to have noticed they’re not alone. They speak in hushed tones, too quiet for me to hear, though it’s clear she’s comfortable with him. Her hostility, it seems, is reserved for me.
The maze is stifling, with walls of green shrubbery caging us in an impossible path. It forks off at one point, splitting into four different directions, and I slip down one while they take another. Only a single row separates us, and I walk slowly, tracking the sounds of their footsteps.
“You’re really quite beautiful,” Damiano says, seduction dripping from his voice. “I couldn’t believe my eyes when you stepped onstage tonight. Never mind my luck when my bid won.”
“I suppose greed can be useful,” Stella replies.
A silent snort puffs out of me. God, I lo ? —
That thought freezes me in my tracks. I what?
Surely, the end of that sentence was loathe . Or long for. Or something considerably less embarrassing than what I thought it would be.
But it seems my denial has been the problem all along.
Maybe my affection for Stella existed long before I was able to make her mine, and the culmination of those feelings is what led to seven years of isolation from her.
Or, more likely, I’m just a dumbass. That would be my father’s explanation.
“Yes, well, greed and determination, I’d say. Everyone probably thinks I’m crazy for going up against a De Tore, but do you want to know what I think?”
“What?” she coos, and my entire body charges with white-hot electricity at the foreign sound of her voice lowering and taking on a sultry quality.
“ I don’t think you were ever married to Leopoldo in the first place.” He laughs, so content with himself.
Most people in the outside world are unaware of our marital status, but I suppose it makes sense that the truth bled to other organizations.
“I mean, you with the Demon of Boston? You know he’s slaughtered entire branches of his family tree? Imagine a pretty little virgin like yourself up against that. He’d eat you alive.”
How little you know of her, I think, coming upon a clearing that, again, splits into multiple different paths. That’s exactly what she wants. Even if she’d rather die than admit it.
They’re facing away, headed for another opening, as I step out, gaining on their trail quickly. It has to be fast, or else I risk this fucker getting a look at me and reporting me to the auction organizers. I’m sure they would revoke the orchid at the least, and then all this would have been for nothing.
Stella stiffens, and satisfaction weaves through me at how easily she recognizes my presence. There’s a nanosecond of hesitation as Damiano walks past her, but she doesn’t have time to dodge me or cry out.
She struggles immediately as I slap my palm over her mouth, dragging her back the way I came before her companion can think to look behind him.
Cazzo. He should eat shit for not keeping an eye on her, although I’ll settle for merely stealing his prize.
“Stella?” he calls out after a full minute. “Hello? I wasn’t being serious, you know. God, it was a fucking joke. Quit being stupid and come out.”
I continue retreating, ignoring the way my wife stumbles over her heels, barely able to keep up with our exit.
Stopping once we’ve put a reasonable distance between us, I wait, listening for the sudden pounding of feet on the ground. Not that it will matter much at this point. He won’t know which path to start down, and by the time he finds this spot, we’ll be gone.
One of Stella’s elbows gets me in a tender spot above my hip, and I grunt, shoving her into the hedge wall.
“Stop fucking fighting,” I snap, growing more and more annoyed with her by the second. “You knew exactly what would happen when you got on that stage tonight. This is what you wanted, isn’t it, stellina ? Your husband’s wrath?”
My fingers buzz as she mumbles something into my hand. I pull away slightly, noting the smudged lip gloss and the excess saliva around her mouth.
“It’s what you get, asshole,” she spits, as if the insult will do anything to me except make my cock harder.
Rolling my eyes, I bend and turn her, looping my arm around her waist and hauling her over my shoulder. She squeals as her front flops forward, now facing my backside.
“Let go of me!” she demands, drilling her fists into my ass. “There are rules here, Leo. You can’t just take something that doesn’t belong to you. I was having a perfectly nice time with Mr. Candreva.”
The Glass Tower enters my view when I retrace my steps out of the maze, and I grin to myself as I start toward it. “ Mr. Candreva , is it? Strange that you can’t even utter the first name of the man who paid such a large sum for your virginity. Are you sure that’s what you had in mind for your evening?”
“Maybe I have an honorific fetish.”
“Yeah?” I adjust her roughly, reveling in the huff of air that presses from her stomach. “Good. I’ll be sure to have you call me Master when I’ve got my cock in you later.”
“That is not happening.”
“Happened last night,” I point out, swatting her ass. “I’d be willing to bet a very expensive and very rare orchid that it will happen again.”
“I didn’t call you… that .”
“True. Maybe that’s not the right word then.” My feet crunch against the grass, carrying us away from the auction. “Sir, maybe? Commander? Your Esteemed Keeper?”
She pinches me, hard. “How about Poisonous Wretch?”
“We’re not discussing your nickname,” I reply easily. “Besides, I don’t want to degrade you like that when I’m making you come. I’d prefer something like Mistress Darling.”
“ Mistress —” she groans. “What the hell is wrong with you? Why can’t you just leave me alone? Was ruining my career not good enough, so you had to spoil any potential fun I could have, too?”
Gritting my teeth against the weight of her words and lack of understanding, I shift so she’s not sliding off my back and stop at the entrance to the Glass Tower. “The night’s young, stellina. Perhaps I’ve not spoiled anything.”
With my free hand, I fish the key from my jacket pocket, unlock the door, and push her inside.