CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
BLOSSOM
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The ride was painfully quiet. The only sounds inside the SUV were the hum of the engine and the occasional crunch of tires rolling over loose gravel whenever the driver drifted too close to the shoulder.
I folded my arms across my chest and stared out the passenger-side window, trying to memorize our route and taking note of landmarks. If I ended up needing to escape later, I’d need some idea of where I was.
As the driver merged onto the highway, something bumped my side. I looked to my left and noticed a black box resting on the seat next to me. A thick red ribbon had been wrapped neatly around it. I frowned.
"What's in the box?" I asked the driver.
"It's a gift for you from Mr. Cattaneo," the driver answered without taking his eyes off the road.
A gift? For me? My gaze narrowed on the box. I leaned closer to it, listening for any ticking sounds. I didn’t hear any.
"What’s in it?" I asked, still eyeing it suspiciously.
"It's your attire for tonight."
My attire?
"But I'm already dressed."
"Mr. Cattaneo would like you to change clothes before meeting him."
This motherfucker!
"And if I refuse?"
The driver finally looked at me through the rearview mirror.
"I don't recommend that, Ms. Brooks."
If I kept biting my tongue, I was going to bite the motherfucker off. I looked back down at the box and reached for it.
"Mr. Cattaneo said not to open the gift until you reach the beach house."
My hand stopped inches above the ribbon. Beach house? Under normal circumstances, I would've loved to go to Rome's beach house. Not tonight. Not when I knew his intentions weren’t romantic or spicy.
Oh, no. Was he planning to put me in cement boots and dump me into the Gulf? Mafia families didn't really do stuff like that... right? That was only in the movies. I hoped. Pulling my hand back into my lap, I turned my attention to the window again.
Every few seconds, I mentally noted another street sign. Another intersection. Another business. Another gas station. Anything that might help me find my way back if I needed to. The longer we drove, the fewer buildings and landmarks I saw.
My frown deepened. Where the hell were we going? I glanced at the back of the driver’s head, wondering if I should just choke him out, escape, and then prepare my team to go up against the Cattaneos.
The thought lasted all of three seconds before my mom's face flashed through my mind. Then Kelly's. If I escaped now, Rome wouldn't stop with me. He'd go after the people I loved. I had to at least try to resolve this diplomatically.
Not because I trusted Rome. Not because I feared the Cattaneos. But because I wanted to do whatever I could to keep everyone safe. So, for now, I could only go with the flow. Sighing, I rested my head against the seat cushion.
Outside, the city slowly disappeared behind us. The streetlights vanished. Then the neighboring houses. Soon, the only illumination came from the moon hanging low over the Gulf and the narrow beams of the SUV's headlights carving through the darkness.
I perked up when the driver turned off the main road and onto a dirt road leading to an area I’d never ventured into before. The dirt road carried us further and further away from the main road.
I didn’t like that shit at all. Eventually, the SUV pulled onto a long driveway lined with towering trees. Their branches stretched overhead, swallowing us in darkness as we continued down the winding drive.
I looked over my shoulder. It would be about a mile-long run to get from the beach house back to the main road. I wondered how fast Rome could run. The trees finally opened up, revealing the beach house in the distance.
Under different circumstances, I would've thought it was beautiful. It was the perfect little romantic getaway right on the beach. Unfortunately, I was forced to be here, which made this more like a thriller than a romance.
Off to my right, I noticed a parking garage. He didn't pull into it. Instead, he parked in front of it and switched off the engine. A moment later, he climbed out of the SUV and walked around the vehicle. My door opened. The driver stood there, holding it for me.
"I'll escort you inside to get changed, Ms. Brooks. Please grab your gift."
I looked down at the box. I didn't want to grab it. But what choice did I have? Stepping out of the SUV, I tucked the box against my side and followed him toward the house. He unlocked the back door and held it open for me.
The beach house was dimly lit, with only a few lamps casting soft pools of light throughout the space. Without saying a word, he led me down a hallway before stopping in front of a closed bedroom door. He opened it.
"This is where we part ways, Ms. Brooks."
I stepped inside. The first thing I did was flip on the light. It illuminated the space, and I gasped. How adorable! The room was decorated in pink and rose gold, and I absolutely loved it. I smiled until a thought occurred to me.
Whose room was this?
“Who does this room belong to?” I asked the driver.
“You must ask Mr. Cattaneo that. After you're dressed, please join Mr. Cattaneo in his office," the driver instructed from the doorway.
"It's straight down this hall. The last door on the left.
He says you have ten minutes to get dressed.
If you're not in his office in ten minutes...
" The man cleared his throat, leaving the rest of the sentence unfinished.
Message received.
Gritting my teeth, I closed the bedroom door without responding. I carried the box over to the bed and set it down, along with my purse. My fingers worked the ribbon loose before I lifted the lid.
Inside was a black dress. I carefully lifted it from the box. It was simple but elegant. The material was soft. I held it against myself before checking the tag. It was my size. It would be a little snug in the butt and breast area since there wasn't much stretch to it.
But it should fit. I laid the dress across the bed and slowly looked around the room. I didn't see any cameras. That didn't mean there weren't any. Looking back into the box, I realized there was something else inside.
A pair of black thongs. I picked them up with two fingers and stared at them. Seriously, Rome? I looked back toward the dress. Halter top. Which meant I wouldn’t be wearing the sports bra I currently had on.
I closed my eyes and slowly inhaled through my nose. I could do this. I would not get frustrated and tear all this shit up. I would hold it together and see where he was going with this. I would remain patient and keep my smart remarks to myself.
Opening my eyes, I picked up the dress and panties before heading into the bathroom. Leaving my jewelry on, I stripped out of my clothes. I stuffed my socks into my boots and slid them into the corner.
After folding my jeans, shirt, panties, and sports bra, I placed them neatly on the long bathroom counter. Naked, I looked at myself in the mirror. I needed to do something else with my hair. These pigtails just weren’t doing it for me.
I quickly undid my braids, pulling the tracker hairpins free as I worked. Once I had it unbraided, I slipped the hairpins into the pockets of my folded jeans. Fluffing my curls with my fingers, I shaped them into a cute little afro.
Much better.
After washing my hands, I stepped into the panties. It felt like I wasn’t wearing anything at all. I looked at myself in the mirror. These damn things were see-through. Thankfully, I kept my kitty shaved because... damn.
I turned around to look at myself from the back. All of my brown cheeks were out. I needed to lotion up before I did anything else. I raced into the bedroom and pulled a small bottle of hand lotion from my purse.
Returning to the bathroom, I lotioned up before washing and drying my hands, then pulling the dress over my head. I smoothed the material down over my hips and thighs, allowing it to drop to my ankles.
There was a long split up the leg that I hadn’t noticed at first. Finally, I looked up at my reflection. The first thing I noticed was that the dress was just as sheer as the panties.
"What the hell?"
Turning sideways, I looked over my shoulder. The back dipped low. Very low. Almost to my ass. And because the material was sheer, you could see my ass.
"Fuck you, Rome."
It wasn't like Rome had never seen me naked before. Even so, this was a bit much for an official first meeting. But at least my ass looked good in my dress. My time on the treadmill had me looking right.
I faced forward again and took in my overall look. It wasn’t bad. The only thing missing was my nipple ring. And I hadn’t put one on in a few days. I took a deep breath. It was time to face the man I’d been dreading seeing.
I left the bathroom, then the bedroom, and stepped into the hall, barefoot. He could’ve at least gifted me a pair of heels. I moved slowly down the hallway, heading to his office. I smoothed my hands down the front of my dress, nervous as hell. When I reached his office door, I knocked three times.
“Come in, Juliet,” a deep voice called out, sending a shiver down my spine.
Closing my eyes, I mentally prepared myself as best I could for what awaited me on the other side of the door. Opening my eyes, I gripped the knob and turned, entering his office.
Moonlight spilled through the uncovered windows, stretching long silver shadows across the office floor. Outside, I could see the moon’s reflection shimmering over the gulf. It was a beautiful sight. No wonder he had the blinds pulled up.
I stepped inside and gently closed the door behind me. The room was dark, lit only by the moon and the glow of his laptop screen. Rome sat behind his desk with his chair turned away from me.
He was facing the wall with his back to me. He didn't acknowledge me. He didn't even move. I stood there for several seconds, wondering if he was intentionally making me wait. When it became obvious he wasn't going to say anything, I padded across the soft carpet until I stood in front of his desk.
I clasped my hands together in front of me, resisting the urge to speak first. I didn't know what to say to him anymore. Sorry wouldn’t cover it, and pretending nothing had happened wasn't an option. The silence stretched between us, becoming uncomfortable. Finally, Rome spoke.
"Come around the desk," he demanded.
I obeyed, eager to see where he was going with this. I walked around the large mahogany desk until I stood near the window, the moonlight washing over me as I faced the side of his chair.
For a long moment, he remained staring at the wall. Then, slowly, he swiveled around to face me. Gone was the suit jacket he'd worn earlier. He still had on his black slacks and black button-down shirt, though the first few buttons had been undone.
One hand rested on the arm of his chair while the other held a glass of whiskey. His eyes lifted to mine. Then they slowly traveled over me, starting with my hair. His gaze moved over my face, down to the thin straps of the dress.
They continued to my waist, stalling when they dipped lower to my kitty. He didn't say a word while looking at me. But he didn’t have to. He couldn’t hide what he was feeling from me.
It was there in his eyes and in the tent of his pants. Unable to stop myself, I wondered what he saw when he looked at me. Did he still see the woman he'd laughed with while watching anime? The woman he'd flirted with until sunrise?
The woman he’d jacked off to as we moaned each other’s names? Or did he only see the person he believed had betrayed him? An enemy he hated yet was attracted to? Finally, his gaze returned to mine. And gone were the flames of desire in his eyes.
"Kneel."
The command echoed through the room, shocking the hell out of me.
I cocked my head to the side. "Excuse me?"
"You heard me."
"Romeo..." I started.
"Don't," he snapped.
The single word was laced with so much pain that it made my heart ache.
His jaw tightened, and his eyes closed briefly before he drew in a slow breath, visibly forcing himself to calm down.
He opened his eyes. And there was that hatred I’d feared seeing in his gaze.
It hurt me to my core, bringing tears to my eyes.
"Don't call me that," he said, voice raspy, even colder than before. "Kneel."
"I'm not kneeling," I told him, blinking back tears, refusing to cry in front of him.
“You think you have a choice in what you do here?” he asked.
“I...”
Before I could say what I’d wanted to say, he reached for his laptop and turned it around so the screen faced me. My stomach dropped, my sassy remark dying on my lips. The screen was divided into several camera feeds.
And I recognized the location of each feed. One was of Kelly's house. Another was Tracy's house. Then there was Dayana's house and Ivy's place. My gaze darted from one screen to the next, and I found myself wishing I’d brought my gun.
"Why did you bring me here?" I asked, tearing my eyes away from the laptop.
"Kneel," he repeated.
"Rome..."
He pressed a button on the laptop.
"Camera four," he said. "What's going on at your location?"
A man's voice came through the speakers.
"Nothing much. My target just entered her home with another woman. I think they're on a date."
My heart lurched. Camera four? That was Dayana's house.
"Should I move in and make the kill?" the man asked.
"Should he move in?" Rome asked me, his expression and tone void of emotion.
The room suddenly felt too small. Too hot. I couldn’t breathe. I looked back at the screen. Dayana had no idea someone was outside her house. She was inside, enjoying her night with her new love interest.
And outside, death was looming. He had to have hacked her also, because her cams would’ve picked up on someone being close to her property. All of their cams would have. My gaze moved from one house to the next. Tracy, Kelly, and Dayana had no idea they were in danger.
"Kneel, Juliet." His voice remained calm. Controlled. "I won't ask again. If you don’t kneel, the next words I utter will be for car four to move in for the kill."
My throat tightened. Every instinct I had screamed at me not to give him what he wanted. But my pride wasn't worth risking Dayana's life. Keeping my eyes on his, I lowered myself to the floor until I was kneeling in front of Rome Cattaneo.