Chapter 5
SOFIA
Iwalk into the hotel ballroom in the sleek black dress I keep in Dominic’s office closet.
I bought it for my nana’s funeral a few years back, but it’s perfect for an event like this.
A little classy but not flashy, and it helps me fade into the background.
I’m an assistant. Nobody expects me to show up in haute couture.
As I ride up the elevator to the ballroom, I smooth the front of it with my hands and try to calm my nerves. This is my first time at an event like this. I don’t want to mess it up.
Elena is waiting when the elevator doors open, and her face lights up the second she sees me.
“Oh, thank God!” she nearly shouts.
“That bad?” I ask. I was only gone for an hour and a half.
“Mr. Armand has pulled Lucille from the guest entry three times to deal with vendor issues. Three guests came in through the wrong hallway because of it and got lost, and some drunk prick tried to sneak in and one of the guards from Bastion nearly tackled him. It’s been a rough half hour.”
I nod and follow her into the private ballroom.
Earlier, the tables were still being set under harsh lighting, but now the chandeliers glow low and candles flicker at each table.
A few guests mill around talking, and a jazz trio in the corner plays soft music meant to set the mood without overwhelming it.
So far, everything looks good. If all goes well, none of the guests will realize what a clusterfuck the last few hours have been.
Dominic is already there, talking to someone over by the bar. His eyes find me the moment I step into the ballroom, and my stomach flutters when our gazes meet. He looks incredible in his tux, and I try desperately not to notice.
I’m here to work. Nothing more.
I walk over to Lucille, who looks just as happy as Elena to see me. She visibly relaxes and hands me a clipboard.
“I’m going back to check-in,” she says. “These people are driving me nuts!”
For the next half hour, I find out exactly why. Nothing is going right tonight, and nobody is on their A-game. My only solace is that I had almost nothing to do with planning this event. If anything, putting out all these fires makes me look good to Dominic.
Kevin approaches with an unreadable look on his face. “Ms. Bellini,” he calls.
“Mr. Armand,” I answer with my most professional smile. “Is everything all right?”
“That’s what I was coming to ask you,” he says in a tight voice.
I glance toward the ballroom. “Cocktail hour is going great,” I tell him. “Dinner service starts in fifteen minutes, and the kitchen’s ready to plate everyone within ten so no one’s left waiting. Elena’s overseeing it. As far as I can tell, everything’s on track.”
What I don’t tell him is that cocktail hour nearly fell apart when the waiters forgot two of the appetizers and ran out of meatballs in five minutes. Elena’s been wrestling a broken warmer in the kitchen, and three waiters called out sick. All disasters he doesn’t need to be privy to.
“Excellent.” He nods. “You’ve done very well under the last-minute pressure. You’re very young to be so composed.”
I’m not exactly sure how to take that. It sounds like a compliment on the surface, but the deeper I dig, the more it verges on rude. So I just nod and say, “Well, I’d better get back to Elena.”
He gives me a wolfish grin and blocks my path, just enough that it might look accidental. “Walk with me for a minute.”
It’s not a question or request. I’ve worked with Dominic long enough that I know when I’m being commanded.
I look across the room to find Dominic. He’s speaking animatedly to someone, his attention completely focused away from me. Part of me wants to excuse myself to check on my boss, but I need to make sure this evening goes off with no visible hitch.
“Of course,” I say, overriding any part of my brain that has sense. There’s a ballroom full of people. There’s no reason to be concerned.
He leads me out of the ballroom and into a side hallway that connects to a private dining room.
I keep one step behind him, the way I always walk with Dominic.
My alarm bells are ringing, but I’m not ready to go nuclear just yet.
The hallway is quiet, though not deserted.
Service doors line it, with plenty of staff behind them who’d step in if they heard someone scream. Probably.
“I’m curious,” he says, turning on me. “How long have you worked for Dominic?”
“A little over a month,” I tell him honestly.
“Is that all?” He chuckles. “He already trusts you a lot for such a short time.”
I just shrug. “I do my job well and don’t complain.”
He stops near a narrow alcove by the private coatroom. It’s not hidden, exactly, but it’s far enough from the ballroom entrance that the music sounds muffled.
His eyes crawl over me in a way that makes my skin go tight.
“Dominic likes to keep pretty things around him. And I imagine you two have a lot of late nights together.”
My stomach turns.
“Our relationship is strictly professional,” I say as calmly as I can. “He’s my boss and I take care of his schedule. That’s as exciting as our late nights get. Now, I should probably get back to the ballroom.”
I try to step around him, but his hand catches my arm. Not hard, yet the look on his face says it wouldn’t take much for him to hurt me. I drop my gaze to his fingers, then lift it back to his face.
“Let go of me,” I say firmly.
That wolfish grin is back on his face, making him look predatory.
“Careful, Ms. Bellini. You should know by now that your job often requires enthusiastic compliance.”
I pull my arm out of his grasp as hard as I can, suppressing the urge to stomp on his foot.
“Actually,” I nearly spit, “that’s not in my job description.”
His brows lift, and his hands move to my waist.
“Mr. Armand,” I say in as intimidating of a tone as I can manage, “you need to let me get back to the ballroom.”
“You’re in over your head,” he says, leaning down to whisper into my ear. “You know that, don’t you?”
He backs me up against a wall, until there’s no possible way for me to wriggle out of his grasp. The motion knocks the air out of me.
“Dominic should know better than to bring pretty things around me,” he growls into my ear.
Underneath the immense fear comes an anger so powerful, it bursts out of me.
“And you should know how to keep your hands to yourself,” I say, pushing him off of me with both hands.
He stumbles back, and for a second I think I must be stronger than I knew. Then he’s thrown unnaturally to the side, and I see Dominic standing over him, unbridled fury on his face.
“Like the lady said,” he snarls, “you need to keep your hands to yourself.”
Kevin twists to look at him and puts his hands up in surrender.
“This isn’t what it looks like, Dominic,” he says carefully. “That bitch basically begged me to bring her to a quiet spot.”
Dominic doesn’t entertain the lie for a moment. He punches him hard enough that the man falls back onto the floor, clutching his face. I flinch.
Rafe appears at the end of the hall. Elena shows up behind him, one hand clamped over her mouth. Dominic doesn’t look at either of them, but I feel like a spectacle. My heart races and my head spins.
“Are you hurt?” Dominic asks me.
I shake my head. “I’m fine,” I insist, but my voice sounds awful.
Kevin chuckles darkly as he gets up from the floor. “She’s fine,” he hisses. “I’m the one who’ll be suing the shit out of you.”
Dominic turns back to him, and for the first time since I met him, I see the man under the perfectly crafted veneer. The CEO is just a costume. The man underneath is dangerous.
Rafe steps in, putting himself between Dominic and Kevin.
“There are three witnesses,” Rafe says darkly. “And they all saw you fall. It would be your word against Dominic’s.”
Kevin’s anger flickers briefly before it’s replaced by fear.
“I fell.” He nods, clutching his jaw where Dominic hit him. “But this dinner is over.”
“The dinner will continue,” Dominic says quietly.
“Your guests will leave satisfied, and when they ask why tonight went so well, you’ll tell them it’s because my assistant saved the night from your incompetence.
You will never look at or speak to Sofia again.
If you do, you’ll get much worse than a punch in the face. ”
Kevin’s jaw clenches.
Rafe leans in. “This is the part where you nod and tell Dominic, ‘Thank you.’”
Kevin nods and grumbles a quick “Thank you” under his breath. I’m left speechless. Who the hell do I work for?
Rafe escorts Kevin toward the kitchen, and Elena moves toward me.
“Sofia, are you okay?” she asks with genuine concern. “Jesus Christ, what a fucking pervert. I’m going to make sure he never gets a quality event planner in this town ever again.”
“I’m okay,” I tell her automatically, even though I feel shaken to the bone.
She looks at Dominic, then back to me. “I have a room upstairs. You can use it for tonight and just decompress.”
“No,” I answer too quickly. “I have to see the event through.”
Dominic’s eyes sharpen on me. “Absolutely not,” he says. “You’re done for the night.”
“No, I’m not,” I argue.
“Sofia,” he says sharply.
“No,” I say more firmly. “I’m not leaving because that pig tried to attack me. That gives him too much power.”
Dominic looks like he wants to argue with me, but he knows it would be pointless.
“I’ll stay with her all night,” Elena offers. “She won’t be alone at any point.”
His jaw flexes. “Fine,” he says reluctantly. “But the moment this godforsaken event ends, I’m putting you in a car to send you home.”
I almost argue that I’m not taking a company car to Queens, but I know that I’ve taken enough advantage of his good graces in the last five minutes. So, instead, I just nod and follow Elena back to the ballroom.
True to her word, she doesn’t let me out of her sight for the next hour and a half. The second the keynote speech is done, though, Dominic is back at my side and telling me the car is waiting for me.
He escorts me down in the elevator and to the front, even opening the car door for me.
As we go, I notice how everyone reacts to Dominic, and I realize there’s not a single person in this hotel who would tell him no.
In fact, most of them won’t even look at him as he passes, like they’re scared of meeting his eyes.
The whole ride home, I turn it all over in my head. For the first time since taking this job, I regret not doing more research. Who exactly is Dominic Vieri, and why do men cower in his wake?