Chapter 5
Lorenzo
H aving cameras installed in Piper’s apartment paid off when I heard her talking with Lena on the phone. The two of them were making plans to go to Velvet & Rye tonight, a Georgetown cocktail bar.
While she got ready, I had my assistant make a reservation for myself, and make sure the staff knew to seat the two women close enough that I would be able to overhear their conversations.
That was two hours ago, and I’ve beaten them here. I’m already seated in my booth, facing the door so I can see when they arrive. I barely have time to take the first sip of my whiskey before they enter.
My phone vibrates again, either with an incoming text or email. But I ignore it, determined to not let work get in the way of my growing obsession.
Piper walks with a grace so lethal it rearranges a man’s entire worldview. One look, and everything else fades. As I lock eyes with a guy who’s here with his girlfriend, or date, I bare my teeth, quietly telling him to look the fuck away. He does.
Light gray satin clings to my toy’s chest—tight enough to showcase the curve of her tits, loose enough to make you want to tear it off just to see what’s underneath. Thin straps slide over her shoulders, one already slipping slightly lower than the other. If I were closer, I’d fix it with my teeth.
Her black pants sit high on her hips, cinched at the waist, soft fabric hugging every inch of her thighs. Legs for fucking days, ending in thin black heels with gold at the ankle. They’re the kind of shoes that make me fantasize about bending her over a table while wearing nothing but high heels.
She doesn’t dress to be seen, and yet she eclipses every woman in the room without even trying. Every man in this place should be on his knees. Not because she’s flashy—but because she’s fucking devastating to look at.
Lena’s chattering animatedly as they’re following the waiter to their seat, weaving through the crowd. “Can we order right away?” Lena asks, stopping the waiter from retreating once they’re seated.
“Of course,” he agrees.
Piper purses her lips. “Come on, Lee. I don’t even know what I want yet.”
Lena beams at her, leaning toward the waiter with flirtation laced into every careless tilt of her head. “Two Cosmopolitans, please and thank you.” She shoots him a wink, making him stumble as he walks away.
I’m not going to deny that Lena’s attractive in an objective way. But she doesn’t hold a candle to my toy. Piper’s all grace, sexy curves, and untouchable allure. A woman like her doesn’t need to beg for attention. She already has it. And she doesn’t even know it.
The drinks arrive a few minutes later, glowing pink in their wide-rimmed glasses. Lena lifts hers immediately, clinking it gently against Piper’s.
“To us,” she says, too brightly.
Piper doesn’t smile. She picks up her glass like it’s heavier than it should be, fingers wrapped tight around the stem. I slowly sip my whiskey, never looking away from her.
Another vibration from my pocket. Persistently annoying—relentless, unwelcome. I don’t care who it is. They can wait.
Lena notices the tension oozing off her friend. “Okay,” she says, voice lowering just a bit. “Tell me.”
“There’s nothing to tell,” Piper murmurs. She takes a cautious sip and winces.
“Bullshit,” Lena says cheerfully. “You’ve got that twitchy look, like your brain’s trying to crawl out through your eye sockets.”
I nearly smile.
Piper leans back, one hand brushing down her arm, nervous energy bleeding into every movement. “The interview with Lauren Chase was a disaster.”
“I gathered that. But how bad are we talking?”
“Bad,” Piper sighs. “She called Mrs. Ellis to complain about me. Who even does that?”
Lena freezes mid-sip. “Wait… what?”
I let the whiskey sit untouched, the fury too loud to taste anything but her humiliation as I listen intently while my toy explains how the interview went down, and what was said to her advisor.
The idea of anyone making her feel small sends something ugly crawling beneath my skin. I sabotaged her, yes—but I never asked Lauren to call anyone, that was her own initiative. One I’m not appreciating at all. Clenching my own glass tighter, I feel the heat of her humiliation like it’s mine.
“… basically, she said that I was difficult,” Piper finishes. The words fall from her lips like something she’s repeating rather than believin g, but I hear the hitch in her voice. The flicker of something cracked.
“She said all that to your advisor?” Lena asks, her tone sharp like she’s angry on Piper’s behalf.
More buzzing from my phone.
My toy nods. “Yeah. Luckily, Mrs. Ellis said she believed me. But still…”
“She’s a fucking psycho,” Lena declares heatedly. “No one even likes Lauren Chase. She only got her position because her dad donates buildings.”
“She made me feel…” Piper pauses. Breathes. “…stupid.”
No, my little toy. You’re not stupid. You just don’t know you’re being nudged toward your rightful place on the board. I take another sip of whiskey, slower this time, letting the burn crawl down my throat.
A few minutes pass in silence while the second round of drinks is ordered and prepared. Piper finishes her first one slower than Lena, but it’s gone before the new ones hit the table. Her fingers tap restlessly on the glass stem until she catches herself and stops.
“I just… I worked so hard to get here,” she finally says, staring at the soft pink drink in front of her like it might hold an answer. “It’s not supposed to fall apart like this.”
It’s not falling apart. It’s being redesigned.
“Maybe she’s threatened by you,” Lena suggests, taking a sip of the fresh drink.
Piper huffs a laugh. “By what? My rapidly shrinking career options?”
“I’m serious.” Lena’s voice sharpens. “You’re smart. You’re well-spoken. And you don’t suck up to women like her. That’s threatening.”
There’s a beat of silence.
“I keep thinking maybe it’s me,” she whispers, her voice barely audible over the hum of conversation and low music.
“Maybe I just don’t belong in this world.
” She wipes under her eye before anything falls.
Just a flick of her thumb—so fast, so casual, anyone else would miss it. But I don’t. I see the crack.
My jaw flexes as I lift my glass, letting the whiskey coat my tongue before I swallow. The flavor doesn’t register. All I can taste is the bitterness in her tone. The fact that she’s sitting there, thinking she’s not enough for a world I’m actively reshaping to fit her into.
She’s cut out for all of it. She just hasn’t been handed the right tools yet.
“Hey!” Lena snaps. “None of that, Pipes. Lauren Chase is a stuck up cunt who doesn’t deserve your tears. You got more talent than she does in her pinky.”
“Right,” Piper croaks.
“I mean it,” Lena continues, relentless in her defense of her best friend. “How about we just have some fun? Let loose for once and forget about stuck up bitches.”
Piper giggles softly. “Forget about who?”
“Exactly,” Lena cackles.
When my phone makes itself known yet again, I’m just about to pull it out and tell whomever is blowing it up to fuck off. Before I fish it out of my pocket, movement catches my attention from the periphery.
Two men approach, drinks in hand with confidence that wasn’t earned.
I’ve seen their kind a thousand times. They carry themselves like they’ve inherited charm instead of building it.
One of them holds a full pitcher of Cosmopolitan.
The other has the nerve to wear a smirk before even opening his mouth.
They’re approaching too casually, angling toward the booth like it’s already theirs. “Hey sweethearts,” the taller guy drawls. “How about some company?”
His friend chuckles and rolls his eyes. “What my friend here meant to say is hi, he’s Daniel and I’m Chris.”
Lena’s head lifts, always quick to notice attention. Her smile is automatic. “Is that for us?” she giggles, nodding her head toward the pitcher.
Chris grins back at her. “Definitely.”
“In that case,” Lena says, her tone syrupy. “Welcome friends.”
“What the hell, Lee?” Piper hisses, her gaze flicking from her friend to the men.
The guys don’t waste a second. The taller of the two, Daniel, slides in beside my toy. He’s casual in a way that grates under my skin. As he makes himself comfortable, his arm brushes hers. She stiffens, chin dipping slightly as if she’s reminding herself to stay composed.
“And what’s your name?” he asks.
“Umm—” Before Piper gets a chance to decide if she’s going to answer or not, he continues.
“I’m Daniel. And you’re Piper, right? I think we have a class together.” He delivers what I’m sure is a line smoothly.
My whiskey is still half-full, amber and glinting like it might boil from proximity to the fury pressing into my ribcage as Daniel moves impossibly closer, sending my blood roaring in my ears to hear it.
All I see is the arm he throws around her shoulders as he leans in and murmurs something near her ear. Piper gives a small, tight smile. A sound that could pass as a laugh slips out, but it doesn’t touch her eyes.
It’s a performance, one she’s practiced far too often in a world that doesn’t make space for discomfort. The man doesn’t even notice. He just reaches for the pitcher and refills her glass like she’s his to serve.
I should thank him since he’s already drawn the bullseye across his own chest. That makes it easier when I decide how to remove him. He’s sitting too close, touching her, and breathing the same air.
When my phone buzzes in my suit jacket yet again, I scowl as I finally give in, and pull it out.
Maria: I’m sorry to disturb you, Lorenzo. But I’ve been monitoring Senator Jacobs as you asked, and there’s a situation at The Ritz-Carlton, Tysons Corner. He’s there with several interns right now and it’s bad.
Of course he’s holed up at the Ritz with its gilt walls and too-soft pillows. The kind of place that makes monsters feel clean again.
Cy: Why the fuck aren’t you answering Maria?