Chapter 4
4
T he tension of waiting for Friday is getting to me. Luke is gone more often than he’s home again today, and I think there’s another trip on the horizon. Not that it’s my business anymore. Wolf has been remarkably silent since I masturbated on the phone with him. I should be grateful for the small reprieve, but I can’t help feeling like this absence is the calm before a storm. I still haven’t decided whether I’m going to answer his summons or not, and I have just over twenty-four hours left.
Either way, I’m pathetically grateful for the distraction of Michelle inviting me out.
I keep a wary eye on my phone as I get ready. It should be a relief not to hear from Wolf today—maybe he’s gone off to terrorize some other mafia princess—but I find myself checking my cell more than is wise. And every time there’s nothing from him, my stomach dips a little.
My phone buzzes, and I get another of those awful dips when I realize it’s Michelle video calling. I give myself a shake and paste a smile on my face. “Hey, girl.”
“I forbid you from cancelling.”
That surprises a laugh out of me. “Who says I’m thinking about cancelling?”
“Call it my best friend superpower.” She looks amazing, as always, her hair pulled back in a wet look that gives fuck-me-in-the-shower vibes. “Check out this dress.” She turns the camera to face a full-length mirror, and I actually gasp. The dress is stunning, a slick bodycon masterpiece that hugs her generous curves and looks almost transparent. She moves, and I realize the translucence a trick of the light and fabric. Clever.
“There’s no way your dad is letting you out of the house in that.”
“I’m an adult and can make my own clothing decisions.” She sounds startlingly like her mother when she says it. Michelle flips the camera back around and glares into it. “My superpower was right. You’re not even ready.”
“I just need to put on my dress.” I spent entirely too much time on my makeup and hair, fighting my straight tresses into some semblance of waves and pairing subtle smokey eyes with crimson lips.
She frowns like she doesn’t believe me. “What dress are you wearing?”
“I don’t know now. You’re going to show me up,” I say teasingly.
“Yeah, yeah, I show everyone up.” She closes her eyes, and I get the distinct impression that she’s going through my closet by memory. Michelle has inherited her mother’s fashion sense, but not the desire to create clothing for other people. “The sheath dress. The black one. Don’t wear anything under it but your best lingerie. We’re getting you fucked tonight, my friend.”
The dress she’s talking about actually is sheer. The cut is loose and high along my throat, but it barely hits the tops of my thighs, and while it hangs dramatically wide, it’s meant to be worn with a shift underneath. “Bold statement.”
“On all counts.” She grins, completely unrepentant. “Also, Zayne is coming out. I couldn’t convince Guinevere to join us, and Cassim never returns my calls, so he didn’t get an invite. Jo is busy doing... something... with Kiley and Sunara. Probably playing checkers with how boring those three are. Talia said maybe.”
“Talia always says maybe and then doesn’t come.” The heirs and spares of Carver City all attended a private school on neutral territory in our formative years. I think the goal was to create a bond between us so that the peace would last past our parents’ generation. It worked with me and Michelle—and Zayne, though he’s a spare. The rest? We’re friendly enough when it’s required, but I wouldn’t call us friends.
“Hope springs eternal. I called you a car. It will be there in ten, so you better be ready. Love you, see you soon.” She hangs up before I can curse her out for being bossy.
I grab the dress she recommended, though. And while I throw on my best black lace panties, I bypass the bra entirely. Instead I take a minute to use some makeup to make my nipples appear like hearts. Michelle wants to get me fucked tonight? I’m going to make sure it happens.
What happens if Wolf kills them?
I shove the thought aside. I can’t even prove he killed Rafe, for all that he acted like he’s responsible. He might have been bluffing.
The reasoning feels flimsy, but I don’t let that stop me from yanking on sky-high heels and hurrying down to the sidewalk to meet the car Michelle called. As it pulls from the curb, my phone dings with a text.
Wolf
Going somewhere?
I glare at my phone. So he was watching me today. He just decided that I didn’t deserve attention. Well, fuck that. If he won’t give me attention, then someone else will. I snap a picture of myself, ensuring he can clearly see my heart-shaped nipples. I send him the photo.
I’m going to get fucked.
Wolf
Baby, you try my patience. Friday is tomorrow.
I grin even as my heart beats faster.
I already told you I’m not showing up.
Wolf
Liar.
You’re just my stalker. You don’t get to tell me what to do.
Wolf
Wrong on both counts.
Do you like my dress, BABY?
Wolf
Flashing your tits at anyone who looks. You’re about to make me have to blind the whole damn club.
I snort.
Wolf
Don’t try to call my bluff tonight, Ruby. You won’t like what happens.
I stare at my phone. This is the first time he’s called me by my actual name. The warning is a big flashing neon sign. It makes me wet.
I don’t know what the fuck is wrong with me. At this point, I’ve made my peace with it. I’ve spent my whole life unaware of how deep my well of recklessness truly goes—at least until recently. Now I’m in a speeding car with no brakes. Crashing is the only way to stop.
You could ask for help.
“I’m not ready for it to be over,” I whisper. I send a quick reply.
I guess we’ll see, won’t we?
I drop my phone into my purse without waiting for a response. He left me hanging all day. It’s only polite to return the favor. I decide to ignore the small voice pointing out that I’m treating my stalker like there’s something between us. There’s not. Or at least nothing I want to explore. He’s bringing out something toxic and dangerous in me, and if I had any sense, I’d cut him out of my life the way I’d cut rot out of an apple.
It’s a quick drive to the Tower, a club that brings in an interesting mix of college students, businesspeople lingering after happy hour, and a scattering of people in the life. I don’t know that we consciously picked a club in Jasmine’s territory as the place to congregate, but this choice ensures there’s no friction with the various territory leaders. My parents never feel perfectly comfortable when I end up in Ursa’s part of town. They haven’t forgotten the threat she represented in the time after my grandfather died.
The club itself is exactly as it used to be when I’d come here all the time, first with a fake ID that Zayne sourced and then legally at twenty-one: bumping music, a packed dance floor, and a VIP section that circles the top and is filled with private booths that allow us to people watch like modern-day royals looking at our subjects.
Michelle appears in front of me, looking even better in person than she did in the video. She pulls me into a tight hug. “You really came.”
“I said I was going to.”
“Yeah, but this is twice in a week. How many times have you cancelled in the last year?”
Shame heats me as I realize she’s right. I’ve been going through the motions in more ways than one. I give her a bright smile. “All that changes now. I’m here. Let’s do it like we did in the old days.” Not that I ever allowed myself to go as hard as she did. But maybe that changes now. I’m single, stalker or no.
“That’s my girl.” She hooks her arm through mine. “Zayne already claimed our customary booth. Drinks are on the way.”
I lift my brows. “Then what are you doing down here?”
“Just getting a closer look at the options.” She grins. “But it’s early yet. We have time to do our picking later.”
Michelle practically drags me to the dramatic staircase leading up to the VIP section. Our booth is right in the center, though there’s more than enough privacy to encourage getting up to illicit deeds. Zayne lounges in the middle of it, arms outstretched across its curved back.
He smirks when he sees me, the pretty bastard. “Look who the ball and chain let out.”
“No more ball, no more chain.” Michelle releases me to drop down on one side of him, and I sink onto the other side.
He looks at me with interest. Zayne is built just like his father, athletic, with medium-brown skin and thick dark hair, and he’s got his mother’s beauty. He’s downright pretty . Tonight he’s wearing a black suit with faint dark-purple pinstripes that elevate the look.
“It’s recent,” I say into the silence that stretches. “I’m still getting used to it, and he hasn’t moved out yet. That’s why I haven’t told you.”
Also the fact that we don’t talk as much as we used to. We haven’t since Luke and I started dating. Initially it was out of respect for my new boyfriend, because Zayne and I fucked a very long time ago before deciding we were better as friends. He flirts outrageously with anyone who comes into his sphere, regardless of their relationship status. Then the space was just... easier.
Which is kind of shitty, now that I think of it.
I clear my throat. “How have you been?”
He shrugs. “Same old, same old. Got a promotion to COO, which irritates Cassim to no end, but I’ve put in the work. He’s CFO now, but he’ll take CEO when Mother retires... If she retires.”
“She’ll retire.” Michelle leans against his side and props her head on his shoulder. “Just like eventually my old man will get tired of all the bullshit and step down. Cassim might think he wants that, but it just means more work for him.”
“Sometimes I think he gains sustenance from work.”
“And Sunara?” All the heirs and spares are clustered in age except for Cassim, who’s the oldest. But Zayne, Michelle, the twins, and I are the same age. Kiley, Sunara, and Michelle’s sibling, Jo, are the youngest. Only by two years, but I can’t help seeing them as the babies.
He shrugs. “Same old, same old. Her nose is always stuck in a book and she avoids every party our parents host.” His dark eyes sharpen with interest. “That’s a cool ring. Where did you get it?”
I have to fight the urge to shove my hand behind me. There’s a dozen reasons I’ve kept the ring on, each flimsier than the next. The truth is that I could suffer through some scratches and remove it. I just... haven’t. “Just something new. It was a gift.”
He narrows his eyes, no doubt to ask who gifted it to me, but the waitress walks up, her tray full of drinks. Instantly the threat of an inquisition is gone, and Zayne is all charm, his focus entirely on the waitress. “Thank you, beautiful. You knew just the thing I needed.”
The waitress is beautiful, with warm dark-brown skin, gloriously full lips, and breasts that press against the low cut of her top. She’s also incredibly familiar. She’s worked here a long time, and she was definitely a regular in the VIP bar when I used to come around more often. Her name is... Natasha! That’s it.
It strikes me all over again that I can flirt with—can seduce—anyone I want. I’m allowed to. I’m single.
What about Wolf?
I ignore the voice, just like I’ve been ignoring it all day. It’s time to have some fun.