Page 4 of Vicious Impulses (The Capo and Ballerina)
His top lip curls. “Of course. I have always been a big supporter of the arts.”
I look over to find Ignazio gone. He’s already wandered off to introduce another dancer to one of our fans—there’s a whole sea of wealthy men in various expensive suits waiting.
The next hour becomes torture. Mr. Andressi pulls out my chair at our table and then proceeds to talk about only himself in excruciating detail. That’s when he’s not making a snide remark that I’ve eaten too much for his liking.
A sigh leaves me as I remain polite and agreeable, though my teeth clench. The remaining food I push around my plate with my fork, watching the clock with wishes for the night to be over.
“Excuse me,” I say, scooting back my chair. “I need to use the ladies’ room.”
Mr. Andressi opens his mouth as if to protest. I’m scurrying off before he can.
I’m quick and nimble by nature, which comes in handy during situations like these. As the crowded dining room mingles, I’m able to slip in and out unnoticed. My ankle and the heels I’m wearing slow me down, but I’m still fast enough to escape the dining room without anyone stopping me.
For half a second, I consider making a break for it. I could probably make it off the entire property unseen.
…but then what? What happens when Ignazio finds out?
Another shudder vibrates through me. I do as I said I would—I head for the women’s restroom.
Within a few footsteps, I realize I’m not alone after all. I cross the sparkling atrium with the distinct feeling eyes are on me. An unsettling presence looms close by. Slowing down as I glance around, it suddenly feels like I’m being hunted.
Even with the distant sounds of conversation in the dining room, I feel like I’ve been left alone to be preyed upon. By what, bywho, I have no clue.
It’s not until I’m footsteps away from the door to the women’s restroom that a cold hand snatches me by the wrist. I’m jerked sideways, reeled into the arms of a man with silver hair and a wicked glint in his eyes.
“Mr. Andressi,” I choke out. “Please let me go.”
“I understand what you’re doing. I have heard all about you and how you play hard to get,” he grates out in a tone that’s like sandpaper to the ears. “You pretend to be so innocent, yet I’ve caught on to your games.”
I shake my head, my expression wide-eyed and horrified. “What? That’s not what I’m—”
“You’re so beautiful. So…untouched. Unlike most of the others. What will it take for me to have you?”
“Nothing! Get away from me!”
A panicked cry wavers out of me as he shoves me back and easily restrains my arms on either side. I’ve been flattened into the wall to the point I can’t move. The corners of his mouth tip wider, showing off teeth stained yellow from time, and that make my stomach churn.
“I’ll have you now,” he mumbles, bowing his head. His lips crawl over the length of my throat. “No one else has to know.”
He’s kissing his way up toward my jaw and mouth when the assault stops. He’s wrenched off me and thrown to the ground. I’m unable to move from the sheer shock at what’s happening in front of me.
Another man has appeared. One much larger, bulging with muscles under an all-black suit. Yet he moves with the speed of someone a third his size. He snatches Mr. Andressi up off the ground by the collar of his dinner jacket and smashes a huge fist into his face.
It’s one of many to come.
I shrink against the wall as the mysterious mountain-sized man beats Mr. Andressi to a pulp. He pounds his fists and cracks his elbow. He slams his head through the wall a few feet away from me. Streaks of blood mar the once pristine atrium by the time he’s through.
Mr. Andressi drops to the floor unconscious. Almost lifeless.
Horror has paralyzed me from head to toe and made it impossible to do anything but gape at the aftermath.
The man rounds on me, heaving ragged breaths, with his fists bloodiedandtattooed.
Suddenly, I’m feeling as if Mr. Andressi’s weren’t the only set of eyes I felt on me. This man has been watching me too.
A man I’ve never seen in my life. A man that’s the stuff of nightmares… and dark fantasies.
Deep-set eyes that are wolfish and predatory in nature and hair that’s been shaved into a buzzcut fade. Skin that’s been naturally tanned from hours in the sun, and tattoos that come up to his neck and cover what little of his large hands I can see. He’s the kind of man you take notice of the instant he walks into a room: tall, striking, and with a muscled body even his suit can’t hide.