Chapter 5
Chapter Five
Sienna
Eighteen-years-old
Don’t throw up.
Turns out there is still plenty of time for me to overthink what I’m about to do.
Stale air tinged with cigar smoke permeates the basement of the hotel—a basement I didn’t even know existed—as I wait to be auctioned off to the highest bidder.
Why did I think this was a good idea again?
“Gentlemen, tonight I have a special treat,” Jade announces over the microphone as panic bubbles in my chest. “Let’s give a warm welcome to our newest hostess, Cherry.”
Oh shit, that’s me.
Forcing one foot in front of the other, I move from behind the curtain and walk to my mark discreetly sectioned with a small piece of tape. The stage lights are blinding, making it nearly impossible to see the faces in the crowd.
“Eighteen years old, Ms. Cherry is looking for someone to show her the ropes—”
“I’ve got some rope,” a man calls, and laughter fills the room.
“But do you have the cash?” Jade counters. “Because our little cherry here is a virgin.”
Blood pounds between my ears as the room falls silent. I keep my head held high, a demure smile on my face despite the overwhelming urge to run. Or puke.
Or puke, then run.
“Two hours with the beautiful Cherry is up for grabs. Let’s start the bidding at five thousand.”
“Five thousand.” I’m unable to see the bidder.
“I have a bid of five thousand, do I hear six?”
Silence.
“Five, do I have six thousand?”
Nothing.
“Five thousand for two hours of pleasure and exploration with the virginal Cherry.”
Crickets.
“Five thousand, going once. Going twice. Sold, to Mr. Calvani.”
Embarrassment colors my cheeks as I hurry off stage. Jade joins me, and I grab her arm and whisper, “I don’t get it. Why wasn’t there more interest?”
“Because Fabien Calvani bid on you, and no one is dumb enough to bid against him,” she whispers back.
“Why?”
“He’s the boss’s son.”
“Mr. D’Amico’s son?” I ask, confused.
She looks over her shoulder before whispering, “No, sweetie. The boss. The Calvani family runs this city. Mr. D’Amico answers to them.”
Jade realizes I’m still not getting it, because she sighs. “Oh, for fuck’s sake. You gonna make me spell it out?”
“Yes!” I whisper-hiss.
The mob, she mouths.
Fabien
Twenty-one-years-old
“Calm down, cugino,” Nic warns quietly, eyeing the gun that’s now in my hand.
I holster it, my body vibrating with rage as I storm across the room. Had my cousin not told me about something big going down tonight at the hotel, I wouldn’t have been here, and some other asshole would be going home with Sienna.
“Fabien, baby. Long time no see.” Chantelle grabs my arm. “You look tense. How about a private hour? We both know a virgin can’t fuck you the way you like it.”
I made the mistake of fucking Chantelle one time, and it was one time too many.
Shrugging out of her hold, I continue my march to Michele’s table. Slapping both hands down, I lean in. “I thought I made myself clear: She was off limits.”
“I didn’t recruit her.” Michele takes a puff of his cigar, blowing a smoke ring in my direction. “She sought out Jade and asked for the job. Who am I to turn down easy money from a whore?”
“Watch your fucking mouth. One call is all it takes,” I warn him through my teeth.
“Would Vito answer?” Michele challenges. “Funny how no one’s seen the boss in weeks. You wouldn’t be hiding something, would you?”
“Too bold, Michele.” I rise, adjusting my cuffs to give my hands something to do, other than kill him.
“Hope the pussy’s worth it, because you just cost me big money tonight,” he bitches.
“You finally have an excuse for your dwindling kickups.” I smirk. “If you’ll excuse me.”
Striding across the room and backstage, my heart’s pounding against my ribcage, because I don’t see Sienna.
The jazz band begins its set, but not before I hear a high-pitched scream.
Sprinting to the ladies’ room, I fling the door open to find Sienna being held by two girls.
Her dress has been cut up, and she’s pantiless.
Chantelle shoves a glass bottle behind her back. “Fabien. We were just joking around with the new—”
Grabbing my gun, I aim and fire, blowing the bitch’s head off.
The other two women scatter like cockroaches, but there’s nowhere to hide. Two rounds take them both out.
Sienna looks like a deer caught in the headlights. “Come here, Sienna,” I say gently, holstering my gun.
She doesn’t move, glancing down at her cherry dress, now tattered and covered in crimson. Over to the blood spattered on the wall, and down to the glass bottle that was dangerously close to being shoved inside her vagina.
Trying to remain calm for her sake, I choke down my anger with a loud swallow. “Do you need a doctor?” Shrugging out of my suit jacket, I cross the room in large strides and drape it over her bare shoulders and readjust what’s left of her tattered dress.
“Yes.” Sienna’s voice is nothing but a whisper as she eyes the bodies. “To revive these bitches so I can kill them myself.”
I howl with laughter as I scoop her into my arms. “Quella è la mia ragazza.”
“Put me down; I can walk,” she protests as I carry her out the back entrance and to my waiting car. Shuffling her in my arms, I get the passenger door open and her situated before I hustle around to the driver’s seat.
Sienna’s hypnotic eyes pierce into mine as I lean across the console to buckle her up. They’re a lovely color of hazel, but it’s the unusual-shaped pupils that are so stunning, like an upside-down tear. “You’re Fabien Calvani.”
“The one and only.” I wink at her.
“You bid on me.”
“Better fucking believe I did,” I assure her.
“You owe me eighteen grand,” she informs me.
I cock an eyebrow. “How do you figure?”
With crossed arms, Sienna stares me down. “You think I’m only worth five grand?”
My head shakes vehemently. “I would’ve paid whatever it took.”
“How noble,” she says dryly. “You still owe me eighteen grand, because by you bidding on me, everyone else was afraid to. Thus, you under-inflated my earnings.”
I chuckle. “Alright, piccola volpe, I owe you eighteen grand.”
“What does piccola volpe mean?” It’s cute, her trying to pronounce the Italian words.
“Little fox. I’ve decided that’s your nickname.” I flash a grin.
“We don’t have nicknames,” she corrects me.
“Sure we do. Amore. Bello. Il Mio Re. I’ll let you pick mine,” I tease her.
With narrowed eyes, she grabs her phone from her purse and sets a timer. “Your two hours begin now.”
One hundred and twenty minutes to win over my girl.
Something tells me I’ll need every one of them, down to the second.