Chapter 3
GIO
Hours later, and I’m at the Titans’ hotel, making myself comfortable at the bar, where I have eyes on Carl. But he’s been too busy drinking too much champagne to even notice me following his every move.
The dimly lit ballroom is scattered with round tables and simple white tablecloths that cost more than they’re worth.
I grab a bacon-wrapped shrimp from a waitress, who offers me one as she passes. My attention, though? It’s on Carl as he laughs with two younger women, both in expensive-looking black gowns.
I wonder how many people Carl actually stole from. Definitely not from anyone here, or he wouldn’t have come. But I bet we’re not the only ones he’s pissed off.
Carl was the go-to banker for the underworld. He knew how to hide money better than anyone. But little old Carl got too cocky, and now little old Carl is going to die.
“Hi there,” a woman’s voice drifts from my left.
I turn to find golden eyes sparkling, but not as bright as the large studs that accent her ears. Her ivory dress hugs her tight, the length sweeping the floor as she moves to settle on the empty chair beside me.
“I’m Vivian Trout.” She holds out her hand. “And who may you be?” A flirtatious smile widens across her face.
She’s pretty enough. Maybe forty. Blonde hair pinned up into some intricate-looking web. Her ring finger, though? It’s not bare.
And that just proves my point about marriage. It’s bullshit.
“I’m Giovanni.” I lift her hand to my mouth and lower my lips across the top of it before letting it go.
“What a beautiful name.” Her face lights up. “Will you be staying for the auction? It should start shortly.”
“I intend to.”
“Good, then.” She begins to leave, coming to stand between my spread knees. “I do hope you bid on me, Giovanni.” A single finger slinks out and rolls up my thigh while I stare at her indifferently. “I’d love to get to know you better.”
Wicked intent lines her gaze, and it does nothing to impress me. My dick just about shrivels. If these are the kinds of women they’re auctioning off, I may as well donate some cash and be done with it.
She doesn’t wait for me to respond, strutting away with a sway of her hips, a little too obnoxiously for my taste. And I’m even less interested in fucking her now than I was a moment ago.
A whole thirty minutes passes, and I’m still seated in the same spot, watching Carl talking to the same women.
This shit is boring the hell out of me, and I force myself to glance around the room, eyeing people I never had any desire to be at the same event with. Some of them know who I am and are staying as far away from me as possible.
My gaze darts to a woman at the far end of the room. One I failed to notice earlier…but fuck, am I noticing her now.
My pulse instantly kicks up and I straighten my back, completely transfixed. I’ve never seen her before. Because believe me, if I had, I’d remember.
Her bright red lips match the crimson dress she wears, her tits spilling out from the deep V-cut.
She’s on the tall side, maybe five-eight, and she’s got those curves men would go to hell just to see bare.
And her hair… My God, I’ve never seen hair so flaming red, as though she’s walked through fire and lived to tell about it.
She throws on a radiating smile as she speaks to two men who appear as though they may blow a load from merely being in her presence.
She places a palm on the shorter man’s arm—about a head shorter than her—and nods, right before she gives them her back and walks off.
As she does, she rolls her eyes, and I just about burst into a laugh.
Her whole demeanor shifts when she thinks no one is looking.
With a tight grimace, she quickly fixes the top of her dress discreetly, pulling it up like she doesn’t want to show much skin.
But that would be kinda hard when that ruby-red material clings to her like a second skin, accentuating every bend on her sinful body.
She turns, giving me more of a side view, while she gives her gown one more gentle tug, and as she turns to face the room, her lips jerk into a forced grin.
Her gaze scatters around the space as though she’s looking for someone, and then it instantly hits mine.
For a few aching seconds, she stares at me intently. My heart races, the noise of the room reducing to a buzz as though she lowered the volume. My mouth lifts at the corner, and instantly, she scowls. But her eyes…they remain gripped to mine.
Who the hell is she, and why do I want to know everything about her?
Those long, fiery strands shimmer in the light as she runs a finger through them, pushing the waves off her cheek. I bet all that hair would be soft in my fist. I bet she’s a screamer too.
My dick throbs at the thought.
Hopefully, she’s part of the auction. In either case, I will find her after I get rid of Carl, and I will get to know her.
I grind my molars, getting myself to focus on the task. Carl is why I’m here. Hopefully that sexy little redhead isn’t going anywhere.
As though sharing my thoughts, she breaks our connection and slowly strides out of the room, and my face instantly falls.
Fuck. If I didn’t have to watch Carl, I could’ve followed her out. What if she leaves and I never see her again?
Why do I even care?
With a flick of my finger, I get the bartender’s attention, order a whiskey neat, and drown in the scorching liquid pooling in my gut, trying to get that woman out of my head. Then I order another.
I need Carl to head up to his hotel room.
That is where I plan to end him. One of the security guys at the event informed me that Carl’s got himself a suite upstairs.
All I have to do is get rid of his bodyguard, who stands not too far from Carl.
Pretty stupid to hire just one man to keep him safe.
But I can’t say Carl is all that smart to begin with, or he’d never have stolen from people like us.
“Hello, everyone,” a gray-haired emcee announces, tapping on the microphone from the stage to my right.
Shifting, I face him as he looks on with a grin, bright lights bathing his face. Laughter and whistles explode.
“You guys are a rowdy crowd,” he chuckles. “Thank you, thank you.”
He waves down a hand, and the noise begins to die until it’s quiet.
“I hope you’re all ready to open up those wallets for a worthy cause.”
The room breaks with a round of claps, and the host grins as he goes on.
“Shortly, we’ll have ten beautiful ladies who were gracious enough to volunteer to be auctioned off as dates to help us raise money for St. Augustus Hospital.”
More cheers echo through the room.
“That’s right.” He nods, fixing his black bowtie with his free hand. “Are you all ready to get the ball rolling?”
The response is filled with excitement while I swallow my whiskey and slam the glass back down on the bar, my eyes scanning the room for my redhead.
But she’s nowhere to be seen.
Fuck. She left. Of course she did. She didn’t even want to be here. Wasn’t that difficult to tell. Was she roped in like I was?
“The first woman up is a board-certified plastic surgeon,” the emcee announces, and I stare as that woman Vivian walks onto the stage. “She graduated first in her class at Harvard Medical School and…”
The rest blurs. I’m not going to be bidding on anyone, so it makes no difference who these women are. I’ll make the Titans real happy with a check for five million before I leave.
Woman after woman climbs up on the stage. Some younger, some older.
I focus on Carl, though, who’s settled at one of the tables in the middle of the room. He hasn’t bid on anyone either, which is good. Wouldn’t want any witnesses when I take him out.
“Are we ready to start the bid on our last contestant?”
Thank fucking God.
Hopefully after this, Carl goes up to his suite.
“Help me welcome Izzy onto the stage!”
People whistle, and I force myself to look at the woman, expecting anyone else.
Anyone but her.
My chest swells.
Same gorgeous fake smile.
Hair as bright as the sun at dusk.
Ruby-red dress clinging to her hips.
Fuck me. I’m in trouble now. So is my wallet.
Because I’m not going home until that redhead is mine.
The ends of her lips curl even deeper for the crowd, like she knows she has them in her pocket. Because she sure as hell owns me in this very moment.
My feet are moving of their own volition, marching closer until I’m taking a seat at the first table, right by the stage, not giving a shit if this chair belongs to someone else. Because right now it belongs to me, like she will by the end of tonight.
Her gaze immediately locks with mine like it did earlier, and I don’t dare look away. I cross my arms over my chest and lean back, welcoming the challenging glint in her turquoise gaze. And the more she stares, the more my heartbeats go haywire.
She’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen in my goddamn life, a sophisticated and refined kind of beauty. She carries confidence in her posture, like it’s a secret strength, and it causes my attraction to her to turn insatiable.
A few men whistle provocatively, and I’m about to rush over there and break their fucking necks.
From over my shoulder, my eyes connect with one of them. The rage must be evident on my features, because the prick instantly shuts up.
Her lips jerk when I look back at her, in what one could only describe as her version of an authentic smile.
I return it, the small crawl of my lips deepening into a smirk. As I do, her face hardens and she looks past me, like I’ve offended her.
“Izzy here is a pianist,” the man continues, and she laughs flirtatiously. “She speaks five languages and, according to her, she can cook better than anyone here.”
Laughter erupts.
“Let’s start the bid at one hundred thousand dollars. Do I hear one hundred?”
“One hundred,” someone calls out.
I violently peer back, finding an older man with an arm across a woman’s shoulder who looks to be his age, both of them grinning.
The numbers keep growing, and in all this time, I stare at her, waiting for my chance to win. I’m gonna have that woman smile at me like she means it if it’s the last thing I do. But I have to get her alone first.
“Three million dollars,” says someone in a thick English accent, and it belongs to only one person.
Carl. Fucking Carl.
My pulse surges.
First he took our money.
Now he wants to take my girl.
Not gonna happen.
Except she’s not your girl.
She can be for one night, though.
I raise a finger in the air. “Five million.”
Her eyes pop wide.
“Eight million,” Carl counters.
I don’t have to look at him to hear the smugness in his voice. He really wants to die tonight.
Izzy’s lips quirk.
“Ten million,” I reply, a fist curling at my side, barely containing my simmering wrath.
Her chest twitches with a quick breath, and her face turns tight. She dares me a look, and I find irritation clouding over her gaze, wondering why it’s there.
She shakes her head, but just barely, and I slant my head curiously. She wants him to win. Now I’m really intrigued about this little redhead.
I’ll let that asshole win if that’s what she wants, but only to find out why.
“Twenty million dollars,” Carl throws out.
I snicker to myself. Probably stole that too.
From the far left, I look at him and nod graciously.
We’ll see each other real soon.
I turn my attention back to her, finding her glistening gaze raking me with deep concentration.
“Congratulations to the gentleman in the back,” the emcee announces.
And she instantly perks up, looking over at Carl and grinning.
Well, Red, seems I’ve lost. But don’t worry, we’ll be getting to know each other real soon.
And then you’ll tell me exactly what you’re up to.