~She couldn't let go of the case; now he can't let go of her~
Hadassah Moor is a young black investigator, dedicated to taking down corrupt businessmen and exposing nefarious enterprises. But the star aims too high when she goes after Orian Moon, th...
"You sound..." he trails off thoughtfully, his eyes sparkling like black waters at night. "Jealous."
Outrage shreds my insides. "Jealous?" Nearly breathless from anger. "I don't have Stockholm syndrome. I don't make it a point to fall for my captor! I don't care who you screw. You can just bring them to come wear that thot shit. Cause I ain't wearing it."
In a heartbeat, he flashes before me, pulling me to him.
"What are you doing?"
Bound by iron, he expertly undoes the laces of the dress from behind, never breaking eye contact.
Panicked, I pound on his chest desperately. "Okay. Okay. I'll wear it."
He relinquishes his hold. I leap back, grabbing onto the dress to keep it from falling.
"I'll be outside."
Once he leaves. I release a breath I didn't even realise I was holding in. After a short while, I change into a black bodycon dress—a tied halter neck, backless with a generous cut-out that ends just beneath my ass. Skin tight dress exposing every curve with a cut-out that leaves no room for the imagination. Paired with red bottom, toothpick thin heels.
I leave the master suite. Orian's right next to the door, leaning against the wall coolly. His head rolls to the side and his eyes inflate as quickly as they deflate.
He meets my eye. "Fuck that, go change."
"What?"
"I only want to be the one who sees you in that."
He bursts through the doors. I follow him reluctantly.
He walks inside briskly, disappearing into the wardrobe. Shortly, he comes back out with a new black dress. He chucks it on the bed and points to it.
"Put it on."
Smiling teasingly, I run my hands over my body. Slowly. "I don't know... I kinda like it."
He takes in a deep breath, suddenly breathing hard. His jaw taut. "Sakura," he says warningly, uttered like a low growl.
"Better enjoy the view. Because I'm not wearing anything like this again, especially not for you."
He takes one threatening step toward me. I retreat.
"I don't have time to play."
"Yes, sir."
His eyes lit with fervour, consumed by tempered temptation. He gives me one last, long, lingering look before he leaves again. I change into a black, knot back, drawstring bodycon dress that goes over my knees. The unholy saint.
Outside the suite, he nods with approval and lifts a quick finger like he forgot something. He reaches into his pocket and draws out my silver crucifix, dangling it in front of me. My hand instantly goes to my naked neck.
"When did you—"
"When you were showering."
Creep.
He motions for me to turn around. Grudgingly, I do it. He places it gently around my throat, locking the clasp. With that, we leave. This is my first time in Japan, so my eyes are feasting on everything, even though we're still in the harbour. Outside, a line of black Audis await. One of the guards open the backseat door of the car in the middle.
Torin watches us with an excited smile. "Look at us matching, sembri una famiglia."
Torin sports a black polo-neck, long-sleeved with white and black, grid print tapered pants that end just above his ankles. With black embroidery shoes.
"You speak Italian?"
He looks at me as if it was an insult. "I'm half Italian." He eyes me down curiously. "You understand it?"
"Barely, Calum learnt it and made it his only personality trait for a long time. Picked up a few words like...family."
Torin opens his mouth to speak, but Orian's scoff interrupts him. He looks at his brother with a humoured smile, his gaze drifting back to me. A glimmer of interest over his mischievous grin.
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By the time we make in the heart of the city, it's covered by the shroud of night. Watching what I can from the tinted window, most of the sight-seeing obscured by darkness. In due course, the car slows to a cruise, pulling up at the front entrance of a nightclub. The line looking like it wraps around the exotic building twice.
We all pour out the car. Torin goes first. Orian gives out his hand like a demand. I brush past him, only for him to grab my wrist, swivelling me round and draping his arm around my shoulder, interlocking our fingers. And, of course, we go straight through the front entrance. Never mind the people that look like they were queued up since the morning. The bouncers step aside like the king has just arrived.
"Come here often?"
He glances down at me. "I own it."
Immediately buzzed by the music vibrating through me. The dancefloor awash with flailing bodies emanating heat, the beat pulsing from bottom until top. Lights flash, flicker and glow. Multicoloured beams shooting out from the rotary lights on the ceiling on high. The Innovative interior spirals upwards, appealing like vortex of glass and a kaleidoscope of lights
The three of us ascend to the third level to a VIP lounge with an exclusive gallery. Guarded by two beefy bouncers, one of them unclips the velvet red rope. We pass through. I seat myself on the plush regal couch, crossing my legs, overlooking the intoxicated crowd. I look at the table that's ready with gold ice buckets of Cognac Grande champagne.
"So we're here to party?"
"I wish," Torin says with a disappointed groan.
On cue, a man emerges on top of the staircase, sauntering to us, tailed by three hulkish bodyguards. The man is covered in tattoos. Only wearing a black blazer with nothing underneath, showcasing his tattoos like it's an art exhibition. My eyes dart to the steel briefcase that one of his men is carrying.
"Orian." Rugged accent. Heard it before. Perhaps Albanian.
Orian nods tersely in response.
He looks at me with an expression of conflicted interest. "That's new. We do business with our bitches now?"
Orian blasts to his feet. Coming nose-to-nose with him, a fraught stare down ensuing. He concedes and the man cautiously lifts his hands up apologetically.
"What I meant was I don't like audience...."
I get up, glancing at Torin. "Well, I need a drink, anyway. Maybe ten."
"I could use twelve." Torin rises and trades private looks with his brother. "We'll be back."
