2. Amara
Amara
The next day, I stand in the foyer, watching Mom direct the staff with her mountain of Louis Vuitton luggage. Eight suitcases for a weekend trip. Really?
“Darling.” She pulls me into a perfumed embrace. “Have the absolute best time while we’re gone.” Her lips brush my ear. “Do what you need to do. I’ll call you later.”
A groan escapes me before I can stop it.
The driver appears at the door, and Dom wraps his arms around me. I inhale. His cologne, spicy and masculine, makes me feel dizzy. But it’s the involuntary shiver that skitters down my spine as his hard body presses against mine that makes me nervous.
“Be careful, piccola.” His voice drops lower. “Mateo isn’t a nice man.”
He steps back.
I swallow hard and nod.
I’m caught between two impossible choices.
Mateo could be the only person to help me with SweetJustice. He has the connections, the power, and the man is purely psychotic. Yet, running away still feels safer than getting involved with someone like him.
“See you Monday, Amara. Have a lovely weekend.” Mom’s in the car and the door closes before I have the time to reply to her.
The moment their car disappears out of the driveway and the gates click shut, I sprint to Dom’s office.
My hands shake as I yank open drawer after drawer, rifling through papers, folders, everything I can find.
Nothing.
I scan the walls, looking for any sign of a safe behind the expensive artwork. Check behind each frame–nothing there either.
The bookcase yields no secret compartments, and no hidden switches. Just leather-bound volumes collecting dust.
Frustrated, I sink into Dom’s chair.
What am I even looking for?
What could SweetJustice want?
Bank records? Business deals?
I drum my fingers on Dom’s desk, my mind racing.
What information could be worth risking my life over?
I failed my deadline.
I spent hours searching Dom’s office and found nothing. Nothing that would warrant him being arrested. So all I can do now is hope that Mateo likes me enough to date me…and then get him to kill my blackmailer.
A giggle ripples from my throat.
I don’t want the person killed, not really, but I do want Mateo to get every bit of evidence he has against me. The trouble with that is Mateo will then have something to hold against me.
I groan.
It’ll still be easier to run away.
I wish when I started my time on the Pampered Princess website that I had saved every penny I earned. But no, I thought the money would keep rolling in. I suppose it would if I accepted the dates I’ve been offered.
I blow out a deep breath as I drag the halter-neck black mini dress up my thighs, then fasten the straps that run from either side of my neck to the top of my ass. There is hardly much to the outfit. It’s low cut at the front and apart from the two straps down my back, my back is bare.
It must be enough to get Con’s attention.
I glance at my watch. It’s time for Caleb and Poppy to arrive.
After a quick coat of nude lipstick, I push my feet into the crisscrossed high-heeled sandals and sit at my dressing table. I pull out my diary, and write:
How do I stop myself from wanting him when he is forbidden?
How do I let him go when I want him so badly?
Maybe Con likes to share…
A horn beeps just as my cell dings.
SweetJustice: You failed.
After reading the message, I consider replying that I need more time. Instead, I ignore it, lock my diary, and push it underneath my mattress.
I check myself in the mirror one last time before I slip my phone into my purse and leave my room.
I slide into Caleb’s Range Rover, my dress riding up my thighs. His eyes meet mine in the rearview mirror; they linger a moment too long before shifting to the road.
“This is going to be epic!” Poppy is virtually bouncing in the front seat, her sequined dress twinkling as it catches the streetlights. “Everyone’s going to be there.”
I force a smile, trying not to stare at the way Caleb’s forearms flex as he grips the steering wheel.
The muscle in his jaw tightens when I cross my legs. The sound of my skin squeaks against the leather seats.
“You both look beautiful tonight.” Caleb is British. He came to Australia twenty years ago after he met Poppy’s mom in a bar in London.
Twenty years and his smooth English accent still wraps around his words, making my stomach flip.
“Thanks, Dad.” Poppy grins, fiddling with the radio until pop music fills the silence.
There is something so sexy about him. He looks so different from everyone I know. And I want to reach forward, run my fingers through his light brown hair, mess up its perfect style.
I want him to look into my eyes as I trace the edge of his black-rimmed glasses where they rest on his strong nose.
And then I want to kiss him.
But I can’t.
Not again.
He’s Poppy’s father.
He’s Dom’s best friend.
He’s everything I shouldn’t want.
But I do.
My phone dings again. I lock eyes with Caleb in the rearview mirror, then open my phone and read the message.
SweetJustice: You never sent me what I asked for. And as I own your future, I advise you to get digging.
I sigh.
Only Mateo can help me. If I can persuade him tonight, maybe he’ll be interested in me enough to protect me from SweetJustice.
The car stops outside the Conti grounds—inside is a mansion fit for a king and it’s all set behind black wrought-iron gates.
As the gates open, Caleb drives until he stops the car outside of the main double doors.
The party is already going strong, with music pounding through the walls and bass vibrating under my feet.
Caleb exits too, coming around to the trunk where my overnight bag sits.
“I’ll come back at midnight, or call me if you want to leave earlier,” he says, his fingers brushing mine as I pass him. The touch sends electricity shooting up my arm. “Any time. I mean it.”
Our eyes lock. Something dark and hungry flashes across his face before he blinks it away.
“Thanks dad,” Poppy sings. She is so excited, she is practically already dancing.
“Thanks, Professor Miles.” My voice comes out breathier than intended.
Does he feel this too? This crackling tension between us? Or am I imagining it because I want him so badly?
“How many times, Amara, outside of the university, it’s Caleb.”
“Thanks Caleb.” I turn away before I do something stupid like kiss him in front of his daughter.
“Come on,” Poppy grabs my hand and pulls me toward the house where party goers stand outside, some smoking, some making out, but everyone is having a good time laughing and drinking.
I pull the hem of my dress over my thighs from where it has risen to my ass.
“Hi Amara,” Lola, a girl from my social studies class, calls out.
I smile and give her a wave and continue into the house.
When inside, I pick up a sparkling wine piccolo bottle, not bothering with a glass. This is not the kind of party where one needs to be gracious and sip. Not that I’m going to get drunk tonight. I need to keep my wits about me if my aim is to get my plan to work.
I glance at myself in the floor-to-ceiling hallway mirror. The black strappy backed dress and matching high heels should do the trick. My hair is normally flowing down my back in brown waves, but tonight I tied it into a high ponytail to take advantage of the low cut of the dress.
I need every trick I can think of; luckily my mother knows everyone in the book. And one of them is men can be easily influenced to do anything you want with gentle, but feminine persuasion.
My makeup is muted, light lips but lashes of mascara. Another thing my mother taught me, use what you have. And my eyes are my best feature.
All the Bailey girls have the biggest and brightest blue eyes. Though my eyes are the largest and the palest of blue. Milly’s are like sparkling sapphires and Lia’s are the bluest you will ever see, like the azure ocean on a perfect day.
As Poppy pulls me from room to room, I scan everywhere, trying to find him. Him being my future boyfriend, Mateo Conti, sometimes known as Con.
I have to look confident tonight. He needs to know I want him. That the two of us together will be a good match.
My mother thinks Con is the perfect man...for me.
It’s only because Con will hold a lot of power when he is older.
He is the second son of Antonio Conti, one of the five powerful heads of The Syndicate.
But I’m a Bailey girl, and I don’t have the birthright of such a pairing.
And honestly, if it wasn’t for the predicament I’m in, I wouldn’t step within breathing distance of the man.
But self-preservation is very real. And if self-preservation means seducing Con, making him want me, letting him take my virginity, then so be it.
Everything else will fall into place.
He will protect me.
His family will protect me.
I just have to get past all the girls he has hanging on his every word.
I’ve never seen him with a girlfriend but the rumor is, he has had plenty, but with his family being who they are, he is very secretive.
“I’m going to grab a drink and talk to Ariella and her brother Hastings,” Poppy says.
“You go. I’ll see you in a minute.” I know Poppy likes Hastings, so I’ll give her some time while I search for the man who held this party.
I’ve searched the family room, looked at everyone sitting down, everyone outside, in the kitchen and now I’m searching around the pool, but I haven’t seen him or his buddies.
Mateo hangs around with other syndicate leaders’ sons, mainly Lorenzo Bianchi and Gino Gallo. Though he never spends time with my stepbrother Xander.
“Where the hell is he?” I hiss to myself, taking another drink of the sparkling white wine in the tiny bottle in my hand as I stride back into the house and make my way up the staircase, taking each step with care. Not only because of the heels, but my dress rides up high with each step I take.
At the top of the stairs, there are enough doors to think I am in a hotel–not a home.
And although I see this type of living all the time now, especially since my mother married Dominic De Luca, I’m still not used to it.
I don’t come from money. My father is normal.
He still works for Brisbane Council as a planner.
Money is a new thing for me. And why I do what I do? I know once my mom and Dominic divorce, it will end as quickly as it began.
These people are different. The same people who used to look down their noses at me. Not now.
I open three doors, all to empty rooms before I push on the door to the fourth and find Sammy from my Art class bouncing on a guy’s dick.
“Sorry.” I grimace, gripping the handle before I close the door with a silent click.
I sip more of my Dutch courage; my previous fearless strides have turned into tentative steps.
I sigh as I push on more doors without success. Before this moment I doubted myself as the girlfriend of Con, but now I’m prepared to do whatever it takes to get him to like me. It is the only way I see I can get out of the peril I am in.
I reach another door, and I am getting to the point he doesn’t want to be found.
But when I push on the next door, I freeze as my eyes focus on the dark eyes staring back at me.
His trousers are around his knees and he is panting like he is getting off on me, watching.
I swallow hard, as the fingers of one hand twist in thick, dark blond hair.
The person on the bed tries to turn, but Mateo takes his hand and slaps across their cheek.
There are two gasps in the room, one from the person giving him head, the other from me.
I step back against the door, closing myself in the room with them.
Mateo holds the base of his cock, removing it from the mouth, giving me a show for a moment as he slides his hand up and down his massive pierced cock.
“Do you want to join us?” he asks before he slides the cock back into the willing mouth.
“No, thank you.”
“Then fuck off,” he hisses as the person sucking his cock splutters, trying to turn around and see me.
Mateo holds his head with both hands and looks at me as he fucks his face.
I smile. “Don’t worry, I am fucking off. I’ll leave you two lovebirds to fuck each other. See you later Enzo.”
Enzo pulls away from Mateo’s cock and twists to me. “Fuck, Amara. Stop.”
I hold my hand up. “I have enough secrets of my own, Enzo. I am not planning on remembering or sharing yours. I’ll let you get back to enjoying yourself.”
I turn on my heel and grab the handle, pulling open the door and stepping into the hallway. But I don’t get one foot onto the plush carpeted floor before I’m yanked back into the room by my supposedly sexy ponytail.
“Ow.” I fling my arms in the air trying to reach out for the hand, but my feet lose their grip on the floor and I’m dragged backward until my legs smash against the wooden frame of the bed and my ass lands on the mattress.
I cry out as he yanks my head back, his fist curling around my hair. His face is in mine and his free hand squeezes my neck, pinning me against the bed.
“Calm down Con,” Enzo says.
“No. She needs to be taught a lesson. We don’t allow women to run their mouths.” His mouth turns up in a sneer. “Though yours would look so pretty with my cock rammed down your throat.”
I swallow, feeling the ripple in my neck as it presses against his tight grip.
“Let her go, Con,” Enzo says. My wide eyes flicker to Enzo, begging him to help me.
Con stares at me, but I don’t look away. I can’t. I have to stand my ground until he comes to his senses.
“Let her go,” Enzo repeats. “She’s a de Luca now. Her stepfather will kill you.”
Con squeezes. My eyes widen as he lowers his mouth to my ear and whispers, “Tell anybody about us and you are dead, because I don’t give a fuck whose neck I cut.”
“You’re a psycho,” I hiss.
“So you do have brains.” He lowers until his nose almost touches mine. There is darkness behind the stare he gives. I’m not scared of Con, though. I deal with the devil daily and Con is still learning.
But I don’t mind this demon hovering over me. At least Con is obvious and now I know his secret. “Of course. My stepfather knows I’m here tonight. So squeeze harder, put me out of my misery and start a war.”
His hand squeezes a little harder, but I show nothing as I stare into his dark eyes.
Waiting.
Hoping.
I thought Con was going to be my future, but maybe him taking my future is easier.
He lowers his mouth to my ear and whispers, “Who’s the psycho?”
I smile, just as his hand releases my throat and Enzo drags Con off me, and shouts, “Get out of here!”