37. Thirty-Seven #2
“What’s up?” Arrow asked.
“Just reminding you of the meeting we have at Erebus.”
“Shit, I forgot.”
“A meeting at Erebus?” I asked, curious as to what type of meetings happened in the sex club beneath the building owned by Atlas.
“It’s the meeting about the security contracts,” Orion clarified.
I arched an eyebrow, an amused smile on my face. “How exactly does one find time to review security contracts while people are getting fucked in the background?”
Orion’s lips twitched as he leaned against the doorframe. “You’d be surprised how much business gets done while people are distracted by pleasure.”
“You learn the most valuable things about a person when their guard is down,” I said, shifting my weight to lean against the wall. The jacket barely covered me, but I didn’t particularly care. Orion had seen worse in this building—probably had done worse.
“So,” I continued, crossing my arms, “this meeting. Is it about wedding security, or something else I should know about?”
Arrow and Orion exchanged a glance that spoke volumes. There was history there, the kind that didn’t need words.
“Both,” Arrow said finally. “The Albanians have been making noise at the edges of our territory. We need to lock down perimeters before the ceremony.”
“The Albanians?” I frowned. My father had mentioned them once or twice, always with that particular sneer he reserved for new money trying to climb old ladders. “I thought they were still fighting over Queens.”
Orion’s smile was sharp. “They were. Now they’re eyeing Manhattan. Word is, they think a Virelli-Romanov wedding is the perfect time to make a statement.”
“By ‘statement,’ you mean massacre,” I translated.
“Hence the meeting,” Arrow said, his tone suddenly businesslike. “I need to go. You’ll be safe here.”
I bristled at that. Safe. Like I was some porcelain doll to be locked away while the men handled business. I stepped forward, letting his jacket fall open just enough to remind him who he was dealing with. “I’m coming with you.”
Arrow’s jaw tightened, the muscle there jumping in that way that told me he was about to deny me. “This isn’t a social call, Harlowe.”
“Who said I was coming to the meeting?” I gestured to my state of undress. “I’m more interested in the secrets Erebus holds.”
Orion’s green eyes glinted with amusement. “The club is very . . . educational.”
Arrow shot him a death glare, stepping toward me, his body a wall of tension. “You’re not going to Erebus.”
“Why not?” I tilted my head, letting his jacket slip further down my shoulders. “Afraid I’ll see something I shouldn’t? Or that I’ll find something or someone to enjoy?”
The muscle in his jaw twitched again. I loved that tell—the way his control fractured for just a millisecond before he reined himself back in.
“I have enemies everywhere. Erebus is selective, but money and discretion buy admission,” he said, voice low and dangerous. “If my enemies, or your father’s, see you there, unprotected—”
“Unprotected?” I laughed, the sound sharp enough to cut. “I’ve survived twenty-five years as Giovanni Virelli’s daughter. You think I can’t handle myself in a sex club? Plus, you’ll be there. I couldn’t be safer.”
Orion coughed to hide his laughter. Arrow shot him a glare that would have withered a lesser man. “I’m going to wait outside,” he said, closing the door behind him with a smirk.
Arrow turned back to me, eyes blazing. “Get dressed.”
“Is that an order?” I challenged, making no move to obey.
His nostrils flared as he stepped toward me, voice dropping to that dangerous register that made my skin prickle. “Don’t push me on this, Harlowe. Not tonight.”
“Why? Afraid I might like what I see?” I let his jacket slip further down my shoulders. “Or afraid someone else might like what they see?”
He closed the distance between us in two strides, backing me against the wall.
His hand found my throat, not squeezing, just resting there with enough pressure to remind me he could.
“You want to play games? Fine. But understand something—Erebus isn’t like La Lune Noir.
Erebus is filled with crime bosses. The rules are different there. ”
“Sounds perfect,” I whispered against his mouth. “I’ve never been good with rules anyway.”
His thumb traced my pulse point, feeling it jump beneath his touch. “You go, you stay with me. You don’t wander, you don’t talk to anyone I don’t introduce you to, and you sure as fuck don’t participate in anything without my permission.”
I laughed, low and throaty. “There’s that word again. Permission.”
His eyes darkened as his grip tightened infinitesimally. “This isn’t negotiable.”
“Nothing ever is with you,” I countered, but I was already calculating my victories. He’d given in too easily. “Fine. I’ll get dressed,” I said, moving away from the wall.
His eyes narrowed as he watched me cross the room. “Wear something that won’t draw attention.”
I laughed at that, tossing his jacket onto the bed. “Everything I own draws attention. That’s the point.”
He raked his hand through his hair, a gesture so rare it almost seemed human. “Fifteen minutes. Then we leave, with or without you.”
I blew him a kiss and disappeared into the massive walk-in closet that had somehow accumulated more of my clothes than his over the past weeks.
I selected a glittery black lingerie set with straps that crisscrossed my torso in a way that screamed “fuck me” with blood-red heels that matched the red A on the necklace around my neck—showcasing a deliberate display of ownership that would make him simultaneously proud and furious if someone looked too long.
I applied a fresh coat of red lipstick, smudged my eyeliner to look like I’d already been thoroughly fucked—which I most definitely had— and stepped back into my heels.
When I emerged, Arrow was waiting by the door, his expression darkening as he took in my appearance. “That’s your idea of not drawing attention?”
“No,” I smiled, applying a final coat of blood-red lipstick. “For a sex club, this is practically conservative.”
His jaw clenched, and I could see him weighing his options. Kill me now, or let me come along and kill me later.
* My little viper