Chapter 5
Vince
T he ballroom of the Plaza Hotel glitters with New York's elite, a sea of designer gowns and tailored suits. But my eyes are fixed on only one person: Emily Bennett, resplendent in a black silk gown that hugs her delicious curves like a second skin. She's across the room, engaged in conversation with the city's DA, her laugh carrying over the soft strains of the string quartet.
"You're playing with fire, Vinny," a voice murmurs next to me. I turn to see Tony Ricci, an old friend I have a lot of business ties to, watching Emily with a mix of admiration and concern.
I take a sip of my scotch, savoring the burn. "Since when have you known me to shy away from a little heat, Tony?"
He shakes his head, his expression grim. "This isn't just any fire. She's a federal prosecutor, for Christ's sake. If she finds out even half of what you're into—"
"She won't," I cut him off, my tone brooking no argument. "Emily's smart. She knows not to ask questions she doesn't want the answers to." Of course he would already know all about her.
Tony sighs, clearly unconvinced. "Just be careful, Vinny. We can't afford any... complications right now. Not with the Colombians breathing down our necks."
I clap him on the shoulder, my eyes never leaving Emily. "Trust me, Tony. I've got everything under control."
As if sensing my gaze, Emily looks up, her eyes locking with mine across the crowded room. The smile she gives me is small, secretive, meant only for me. It sends a jolt of heat through my body, igniting a fire that will soon need to be quenched.
I make my way towards her, nodding at acquaintances but never stopping to chat. As I approach, the DA excuses himself, clearly intimidated by my presence. Good. The less time Emily spends with law enforcement, the better.
"You look stunning," I murmur, letting my hand rest on the small of her back. It's a possessive gesture, one that doesn't go unnoticed by the watching crowds. Let them look. Let them see that Emily Bennett belongs to me.
She arches an eyebrow, amusement dancing in her eyes. "You clean up pretty well yourself, Mr. Russo. Though I have to say, I'm surprised to see you at another charity event so soon. Don't tell me you're going soft on me."
I lean in close, my lips brushing her ear. "Trust me, counselor, there's nothing soft about me right now."
I feel her sharp intake of breath, see the flush that creeps up her neck. "Vince," she warns, but there's no real heat in her tone. "We're in public."
"Then perhaps we should find somewhere more... private," I suggest, my hand sliding lower on her back.
Emily pulls back slightly, studying my face. "What's gotten into you tonight? You seem a little... wired."
Perceptive as always. It's one of the things I admire most about her, even if it does make my life more complicated. "Just some business concerns," I say vaguely. "Nothing for you to worry about."
Her eyes narrow. "Vince, if there's something going on that I should know about—"
"There isn't," I cut her off, perhaps more sharply than I intended. Softening my tone, I add, "Let's not ruin the evening with talk of business. I'd much rather focus on you."
The tension in her shoulders eases slightly, but I can see the questions still lurking in her eyes. Emily Bennett is not a woman easily distracted or deterred. It's part of what makes her so irresistible.
"Dance with me," I say, holding out my hand. It's not really a request.
She hesitates for just a moment before placing her hand in mine. As I lead her to the dance floor, I'm acutely aware of the eyes following us. Emily Bennett and Vincent Russo, the prosecutor and the alleged mob boss. We're quite the pair, and I know our relationship is the subject of much speculation and gossip.
Let them talk. They don't understand what's between us, the pull that's stronger than any law or moral code.
As we move together on the dance floor, I allow myself to forget about the business concerns weighing on my mind. The Colombians, the shipment coming in next week, the mole I suspect has infiltrated my organization... all of it fades away until there's nothing but Emily in my arms.
"You're a million miles away," she murmurs, her breath warm against my neck. "Want to tell me where you've gone?"
I pull her closer, my hand splayed possessively across her lower back. "I'm right here," I assure her. "Just thinking about how much I want to get you alone."
She laughs softly, the sound sending a shiver down my spine. "Patience, Mr. Russo. The night is still young."
But I've never been a patient man, especially when it comes to things I want. And God help me, I want Emily Bennett more than I've ever wanted anything in my life. The women I’ve known before couldn’t hold a candle to this one. I’ve never wanted more than a one night stand. But with her? I already know I want so much more.
The rest of the evening passes in a blur of small talk and meaningful glances. I make the rounds, shaking hands and making connections, always keeping one eye on Emily. She does the same, working the room with a grace and charm that makes everyone she meets fall in love with her.
Finally, as the crowd begins to thin, I make my way back to her side. "Ready to get out of here?" I murmur, my hand finding its place on her lower back once more.
She leans into me, a small smile playing at her lips. "I thought you'd never ask."
The ride to my penthouse is charged with unspoken tension. Emily's hand rests on my thigh, a seemingly innocent gesture that sets my blood on fire. I want nothing more than to pull her into my lap, to claim her mouth with mine, but I force myself to wait. The payoff will be worth it.
As soon as we're through the door of my penthouse, I have her pressed against the wall, my mouth descending on hers with a hunger that surprises even me. Emily responds with equal hunger, her fingers tangling in my hair as she pulls me closer.
"Vince," she gasps as I trail kisses down her neck. "Wait... we should talk..."
I pull back slightly, studying her face. "Talk about what, Emily? About how much I want to taste every inch of you? About how crazy this is? Or about how neither of us seems able to stay away despite knowing better?"
She swallows hard, her eyes dark with desire and conflict. "All of it," she whispers. "This thing between us... it's dangerous."
"I know," I say, cupping her face in my hands. "But tell me you don't feel it too. Tell me you don't lie awake at night thinking about me, about us, about what could be."
As my words linger in the air, the tension between us thickens, almost tangible. The dim light of the penthouse casts shadows across the room, but all I can focus on is Emily—her rapid breathing, the rise and fall of her chest beneath that gown, the look in her eyes, a mix of desire and vulnerability that stirs something deep within me.
I don’t wait for her to respond. Instead, I close the distance between us, capturing her mouth with mine in a kiss that's all heat and urgency. Emily responds instantly, her body arching into me, her fingers clutching at my shoulders like she’s holding on for dear life. My hands move slowly, deliberately, tracing the curves I’ve been longing to touch all night. The gown that clings to her like a second skin is suddenly nothing but an obstacle, something that needs to be removed.
With a quick, practiced motion, I slide the straps off her shoulders, watching as the fabric pools around her waist. My gaze lingers on her exposed skin, the creamy expanse of it practically begging to be touched, tasted. I kiss along her collarbone, savoring the way her body shivers under my touch, the way her breath catches when I reach that sensitive spot at the base of her neck.
"Vince..." She breathes my name, her voice a soft plea that only fuels the fire raging inside me. But whatever doubts she has, I silence them with another kiss, one that tells her everything I’m feeling, everything words can’t convey.
I lift her effortlessly, carrying her the rest of the way to the bedroom. The bed awaits us, the sheets cool against her heated skin as I lay her down, my weight pressing into her, grounding us both. For a moment, I pause, my eyes locked on hers, searching for something—permission, reassurance, maybe even a sign that she wants this as much as I do.
Emily’s hands cup my face, her thumbs brushing over my cheekbones as she pulls me down to her, answering my unspoken question with another searing kiss. The tension that's been building between us for so long finally snaps as our bodies come together, all urgency and need.
My hands roam her body, exploring every curve, every inch of her that I’ve been dying to touch. I trail kisses down her neck, across her chest, savoring every little sound she makes, every shiver that courses through her. When I finally reach her thighs, I take my time, kissing a path down her body, relishing the way she trembles beneath me.
When my mouth reaches her core, I pause for just a second, meeting her gaze. The look in her eyes—anticipation, desire, trust—nearly undoes me. Then I give us both what we want, what we need, my mouth working to drive her closer to the edge.
The first touch of my tongue against her clit sends a jolt through her body, her hands fisting the sheets as she tries to stay grounded. She tastes amazing, like vanilla and honey. Greedily I lap her up, working her with my tongue. I slip a finger inside her, then another, and pump them in and out while swirling my tongue against her clit. She’s so fucking tight, I can’t wait to be inside her.
Usually I’m selfish in bed, only caring about my own needs. Tonight, all I want is to hear her moan in pleasure. She whimpers as I increase the speed of my thrusts and arches her back again. But I don’t let up, don’t stop until she’s crying out my name, until her body is shuddering with the force of her release. I keep going, drawing out her pleasure until she’s trembling beneath me, spent and satisfied.
Only then do I move back up her body, capturing her lips in a kiss that’s both possessive and tender. "You’re mine, Emily," I murmur against her lips, my voice rough with desire and the promise of more. "You belong to me now."
Her response is immediate, her arms wrapping around my neck, pulling me closer, needing me as much as I need her. "I’m yours."
Afterward, as we lay tangled in the sheets, Emily's head resting on my chest, I allow myself a moment of vulnerability. "Stay," I murmur into her hair. "Stay with me tonight."
She's quiet for so long I think she might have fallen asleep. Finally, she tilts her head up to look at me. "Vince," she says softly, "what are we doing?"
It's a loaded question, one I'm not sure I have the answer to. "Living," I say finally. "Feeling. Isn't that enough for now?"
Emily sighs, snuggling closer to me. "For now," she agrees.
As I hold her close, listening to her breathing even out as she drifts off to sleep, I can't shake the feeling that everything is about to change. The world I've built, the empire I've created, suddenly seems insignificant compared to the woman in my arms.
For the first time in my life, I'm afraid. Not of my enemies, not of the law, but of the power Emily Bennett holds over me. Because I know, with bone-deep certainty, that I would burn it all down for her. And that terrifies me more than anything.