Chapter 2
Two
New York City
Present Day
Nikos suppressed an irritated sigh as Sherry Contessa’s fingers curled around his necktie, her lips brushed the edge of his jaw. Her perfume clung like a promise—heady, expensive, but not quite enough to distract him from the warning itch crawling between his shoulder blades.
“Nikos, you are so good at being bad,” she purred, her breath warm against his skin.
“Hold that thought, my dear,” he murmured smoothly.
He gracefully slid out of the semicircular velvet booth before her sister, Sabrina, returned. He adjusted his cuffs with a flick of his fingers, his expression cooling as he stepped away from the booth and into the electric pulse of the exclusive VIP lounge at The Rocks.
The beat of the music thudded through the floor, steady and primal, designed to intoxicate. Lights stuttered like heat-lightning, dancing over the darkened dance floor below. The bursts highlighted the silhouettes of bodies moving in sync, lost in the rhythm and each other.
Above them, the VIP mezzanine glowed like a golden halo of indulgence—where secrets were whispered over a steady supply of expensive alcohol and decisions that changed fortunes were made between shots of aged whiskey.
The Rocks wasn’t just a nightclub. It was an empire of temptation. And Nikos owned a third of it.
He paused when a shadow detached from the glass-paneled railing. Rhys, the upstairs bouncer, loomed toward him—unusually stiff. Nikos narrowed his eyes.
“Sir,” Rhys said, holding out a folded sheath of paper. “Two men at the velvet rope. They say you gave them VIP passes.”
Nikos took the paper with a frown, his gaze shifting toward the entrance of the mezzanine lounge where the dark curtain parted just enough to reveal two figures waiting. He recognized one man immediately—and winced.
Harvey Delaney.
Of course.
No good deed goes unpunished, he thought grimly. It seemed tonight’s entertainment was about to take a sharp turn sideways.
He pasted on a smile and nodded. “I’ll handle it.”
The bass dropped behind him, sending a wave of cheers through the crowd.
Nikos slipped past clusters of socialites and trust-fund adrenaline addicts, all dressed in a curated mix of haute couture and feigned apathy.
The VIP lounge shimmered like champagne poured over secrets—too expensive to waste, too dangerous to indulge in for long.
“Harvey,” Nikos greeted as he reached the two men.
“Mr. Aeto.” Harvey smiled with a flicker of nerves. “Thanks again for the passes. This is my partner, Jim.”
Nikos shook hands automatically, his eyes already skimming beyond them. “Pleasure. And… your sister?” he asked.
Jim tried—and failed—not to laugh. Harvey looked like he’d bitten into a lemon.
“Uh… I should mention that Kiki’s not my biological sister,” Harvey hedged with a reluctant glance at Jim. “But, she’s like a sister to us, so that doesn’t really matter.”
“And… she’ll be here soon?” Nikos prodded.
“About that,” Harvey muttered.
“Let me guess,” Nikos said, already picturing the Contessa twins walking out in a huff when he turned them away tonight. “She’s waiting for a grand entrance.”
“Well, no… Actually… she’s not coming. You’ll have to go to her. Later—not tonight.”
A quiet alarm flicked on in his mind, and his eyes narrowed with suspicion. “Explain, please.”
Jim stepped in, draping a casual arm around Harvey’s waist. “Kiki’s our neighbor. We adore her. She’s like family. But she doesn’t exactly do crowds. Or strangers. Or… nightclubs. Or, well, people.”
Nikos’s brows lifted. “And yet you set her up on a blind date… with me?”
Harvey stiffened. “We thought it would be helpful to her. Like ripping a band-aid off. The deal’s still the deal. You got the intel you wanted.”
“And you got your passes,” Nikos replied coolly. “Enjoy.”
He turned to go—but Harvey grabbed his arm.
In a blur, two of Nikos’s security detail moved forward from the shadows. Harvey never noticed.
Nikos held up a hand to stop them, his eyes narrowing as he registered the flicker of concern in Harvey’s eyes.
“She’s special,” Harvey said, his voice low and bordering desperate. “Please, just give her a chance.”
“Harvey, maybe you should let me handle this,” Jim interjected in a soothing tone.
He offered Nikos a rueful smile. “Look, Kiki isn’t your typical girl.
She’s smart, funny, blunt, deeply private…
and did I mention blunt? But that might charm a man such as yourself.
She agreed to one date—one—and it took a month of guilt and emotional blackmail to get that promise out of her.
A situation like that will be a novel experience for you, won’t it?
All we ask is that you keep an open mind and take her out—just once. ”
Nikos stared at the couple. “Let me get this straight. You guilted your reclusive neighbor—who apparently loathes social interaction—into a blind date with a man who has been publicly linked to supermodels, actresses, and the occasional pop diva… in the middle of a high-profile nightclub you knew she wouldn’t be caught dead in? ”
Jim shrugged. “We thought it might be good for her.”
“Why me?” Nikos asked, more curious than annoyed now.
“Because everyone else we tried to bribe ran screaming for the hills,” Jim said without blinking. “You were—are… our Hail Mary.”
“You like a challenge, don’t you?” Harvey blustered.
Nikos stared at him in disbelief.
Harvey sighed and excused himself, walking toward the bar as he muttered that he needed a tequila.
Jim stepped closer, slipping a folded piece of paper into Nikos’s hand. “Don’t let her scare you off. One date. That’s all. Just… show her it’s possible for her to get out. She’s a great kid—young woman. Oh, and she only goes out during the daytime—never at night.”
Nikos frowned and unfolded the note.
Kiki Reese.
A phone number was scrawled in quick, jagged strokes beneath it. Feminine, but not neat. Confident. Impatient.
Almost daring someone to call.
He felt a flicker of intrigue stir—then a grin tugged at one corner of his mouth.
Scare him off? He co-owned one of the top global security firms with his brother and best friend. He’d faced down arms dealers, cyber terrorists, and blackmailing aristocrats. Did Harvey and Jim really think a woman named Kiki could scare him?
“I made a promise. One date,” he said with a nod to Jim who gave him a relieved smile before heading to tell Harvey.
He pulled out his phone and stepped to the edge of the mezzanine overlooking the dancefloor below. Lights strobed over glistening bodies. Laughter, sweat, and lust hung in the air like fog.
“Andri,” he said when the call connected.
“Good evening, Mr. Aeto,” came the crisp reply.
“I need you to run a background check. Name’s Kiki Reese. Number incoming.”
“How deep?”
Nikos paused, thinking. “Boyfriends. Dating history. Social media. Anything of interest. Oh, employment history would be nice. If you can find out if she’s scared of anything or has food allergies, that would be a plus.”
Andri chuckled. “Understood.”
He ended the call and stared out at the pulse of the nightclub below.
“Only during daylight hours, huh?” he murmured. “Well, that rules out her being a vampire.”
He was still digesting his conversation with Harvey and Jim when Sabrina Contessa sauntered up behind him, pressing herself against his back like a cat marking its territory.
“Niiikos,” she drawled. “We miss you. Sherry says it’s time to be bad again.”
He slid the scrap of paper into his pocket and turned toward her with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.
“Oh, sweetheart,” he said. “I’m just getting started.”
The building smelled like rain-soaked carpet and a multiplicity of dinners from succulent to fast food.
Faint traces of old varnish, peeling wallpaper, grime, and discarded candy wrappers—probably from apartment 3D—clung to the stairwell.
Kiki Reese took the next step one at a time, puffing out a frustrated huff when her canvas messenger bag thumped against her hip and the plastic bag of groceries cut into her wrist. A bruised avocado was threatening to make a break for it.
“Of course I had to buy the gallon-size of milk instead of the smaller one,” she muttered under her breath, her apartment keys clinking in her grip. Her stomach let out a low, pitiful growl in agreement. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll feed you in a minute.”
The ancient brass numbers on the third-floor landing winked at her.
One more floor. She trudged upward, her hoodie damp from the afternoon drizzle and her arms aching in protest. The stairs creaked like old bones beneath her feet, and somewhere above, the familiar buzz of the overhead hall light filtered down, casting shadows.
The building was an old, end-of-the-century brownstone converted into apartments.
It was made of brick and stone, with thin hallways and doors that swelled in summer.
Her fourth-floor walk-up apartment was nestled beneath the sloped roof of the building like a secret, shadowed refuge.
Rent was cheap—for New York. Heat was spotty. But it was hers. Quiet. Safe. Hidden.
That’s why her stomach dropped the moment she stepped onto the landing and saw the man leaning casually against the wall near her door, staring down at his phone.
Tall. Dark suit. Clean lines. Expensive. Confident.
And a complete stranger.
Every nerve in her body went taut.
She tucked her chin and didn’t stop. She didn’t ask who he was—she really didn’t care. Pursing her lips, she was proud of the fact that she didn’t flinch either.
Focus. Walk on by. Move to the stairs like you own the place.
She held her breath as she walked past her door, past him. Her gaze slid away when he glanced up, moving like water over marble. She adjusted her grip on her keys, slipping one between her fingers like a makeshift blade, the angled tip protruding between her knuckles.