"After you," Blake offers as his arm extends.
I stand in awe of the long and shiny limousine in front of me. The open door reveals leather seats and blue LED lights covering the interior.
I pick up the long train of my dress and try as best as I can to enter the car gracefully. I pick a seat towards the back of the limo, and Blake promptly follows.
Once I sit down, his eyes interlock with mine, and it sends my stomach into a whirl. God, he looks so handsome.
His full black suit is the epitome of Mafia boss sexiness, and with every move he makes, I catch myself admiring him even more.
"You look beautiful, Brynne." He states while keeping eye contact. I shrug as my face heats from his compliment.
"I mean it," His thumb brushes the bottom of my chin. I lift my face to stare into his crystal blue eyes. If only I could live in the moment forever, then maybe life wouldn't be so cruel.
"You don't look too bad yourself," I smile.
He throws his back into the leather seat with a playful smile crawling upon his face. Blake closes his eyes and bites the inside of his left cheek.
"You okay?" I raise my eyebrows and press my lips.
"Yeah, it's just really hard not to kiss you right now." His eyes trace the lining where the dress meets my breasts.
"And what's preventing you from doing just that?" I question seductively.
His teeth break through in a mischievous smile, and I anticipate his next words.
"The problem is," He says as he leans in, "If I kissed you, I don't think I'd be able to stop."
I try to keep my composure as he slowly slides his hand onto my thigh, but he doesn't know that my heart is beating at a hundred miles a minute.
I take a deep breath and shut my eyes.
"Stop," I smile in pleasure.
His hand stays in the same place it's been for the last minute.
The car begins to move, and this only seems to lure us further into the temptations of our desires. I scoot closer to Blake as his arm finds its way around my shoulders.
I can feel myself growing tired but quickly snap out of it. My mind is fighting against my own will, and it frustrates me.
Come on, Brynne, try and stay awake for tonight.
My eyes travel to the blackened windows as I try to decipher our location. I don't recognize this part of town because the houses are ginormous, and the landscaping is beautiful. Almost every property looks to be its little castle.
"Wow," I whispered under my breath.
Blake shifts in his seat, and I am unsure of his reaction. His eyes stay on me while I continue to look out the window. A couple of times, I catch his hand brushing against the small of my back, where the dress swoops down. His finger feels smooth as it rubs my bare skin.
"We're almost there," He coos, his warm breath caressing my earlobe.
My stomach turns into knots as we turn into a gated part of this large community.
Out of anxiousness, my leg begins to bounce up and down. But it is promptly stopped by Blake's hand over my leg.
"It's okay; just relax. You'll be with me the whole time, and I won't let anything happen to you."
I nod while continuing to look out the window.
This long paved driveway seems to go on forever as we ride against the smooth concrete. The limousine driver stops slowly, and I try to move my head for a peek at the venue.
After a couple of minutes of supposedly waiting in the valet line, the door of our limousine opens to a red carpet. I slowly exit the car, allowing Blake to follow once the train of my dress falls behind me.
My eyes immediately widen as I look up.
The red carpet leads to the grandest entrance I have ever seen.
A Victorian mansion upheld by millions of stone bricks faces me in all its glory. Its tan color is darkened by the moonlight, reflecting grays and blacks onto the concrete below. With every movement that my eyes make, something new is discovered.
I notice a fifty-foot stained glass window in the east quadrant of the mansion and multiple regal columns in the west. Lifting my head, I realize how tall this building is.
It propels itself into the air with crosses and spikes of all sorts.
Safe to say that whoever owns this house is filthy rich.
"You ready?" Blake asks as his hand wraps around my waist. His breath rolls down my skin and into my body like a raindrop on a leaf.
"This place is insane," I whisper, careful not to let any other people arriving hear me. The women are dressed in elegant gowns, and the men are in full suits and ties.
I'm glad I decided to wear this dress because if I had worn something different, we would have been the laughingstock of this high-end party.
"Don't be nervous," He insists.
Easy for him to say; he's probably been to a million of these in his lifetime.
Blake urges me towards the long staircase leading to the entrance. I try my best to walk in a straight line with my heels, but it proves to be difficult when I can't see my feet over the long dress. Luckily, Blake holds me steady as we walk up the stairs.
The red carpet finally ends at two large double doors held open by two large security guards. As soon as we enter, we are met by a large marble staircase with gold railing and rich brown carpeting everywhere.
The low chatter and clinking of glassware are minuscule but come to a complete halt when Blake and I walk into the foyer. All eyes turn to him and me, making me gulp. A weird sensation takes over my body, and my nerves become fragile.
I'm going to throw up, I think to myself.
Blake straightens his back and leads me around the grand entrance.
It seems like he's been here before.
People nod his way, and some even bow at his presence. But, his eyes rarely deviate from his purpose. He shifts us through hallways and long corridors.
Large crystal chandeliers hang with open balconies on the other side of the walkway. The ceilings seem miles away, and the place is dimly lit with burning candles.
"These guys are going to stare you down," Blake's voice startles me, "But don't let them see that they've got through to you. That's when they gain power over you."
My pointer finger begins to pick at the side of my thumb.
I'm scared shitless, and I don't know how to stop.
Using my hands, I smooth out any wrinkles or imperfections in my dress. Fixing my hair and puckering my lips is the only thing I can do to make sure that I look somewhat presentable.
"Hey," Blake cups my face with his hands as tenderly as I ever thought to be humanly possible, "I'm right here."
He pulls my head in for a short forehead kiss.
"If you want to leave at any time, just tap my leg, and I'll get you out of there."
I nod and kiss him on the cheek.
"Okay, I'm ready."
He smiles and brushes back a piece of hair that I missed.
"Follow me," He whispers.
I walk beside him as he ascends a small staircase on the side of this beautifully carved stone wall. Tapestries hang from the opposite side, portraying all sorts of castles and royalty.
Once we reach the top, there are a couple of hallways to choose from. Blake seems to be contemplating the right way to take but eventually chooses the hallway to the right.
"This is it," He whispers as we approach a dark oak door. Its hinges look to be something from the Victorian era, and the handle is some sort of mechanism that I can't decipher.
Blake reaches for the handle and pulls, revealing a large parlor room. A dozen men seated on various chairs and sofas look our way with the slightest bit of curiosity showing through their dark eyes.
Blake's hand falls onto my back, showing me into the room. I keep my head held high as he leads me to a small red velvet sofa in the middle of the sitting area.
On the way, he shakes hands with a couple of older men who greet him with firm grips and strong stares.
A seemingly elderly man stands from his leather recliner after putting out his cigarette in a small ashtray. His height and build are enough to scare me to death, but that's not what catches my attention.
A large scar running from his right eye, down his face, and into the collar of his shirt is what portrays him as a scary man.
Whoever gave him that scar wanted it to show.
He grumbles as he sits closer to our couch, and I feel it in my chest. Blake slightly moves his leg next to mine, and I scoot a little closer to him.
"You two need a drink," The man's voice has a heavy Russian accent; and sounds like a rough motor engine. He moves two fingers toward the bartender on the back wall, and the young man quickly gets to work mixing alcohol.
My stomach grumbles at the thought of having to down something distasteful like vodka.
"Wright, you look... different." His hand motions up and down Blake's body.
"It's been three years, Vladimir," Blake's voice sounds as though he has aged ten years. The way that he speaks is withheld and careful, "A lot can happen in three years."
Vladimir nods and looks at the man beside him with raised eyebrows.
"I guess so. How funny that you were spotted at the Spanish base the same day 500 of their agents were killed." His thick accent makes it hard for me to understand, but I get the point he is trying to get across.
Blake's breath hitches for only a millisecond before he answers.
"I didn't know you had spies in that area."
"I have spies everywhere," The old man chuckles, his belly moving up and down with the movement.
"Now Blake, you see us Russians have nothing against the Italians. We've always been neutral, so to speak," He waves to the bartender to serve us our drinks.
"But a massacre of the Spanish is a declaration of war. Do you know what you have gotten yourself into?"
Blake grunts and settles into the couch while wrapping his arm around my shoulder.
"Yes, the only question is, are you willing to be on my side, or do you want to watch from the sidelines as I take down the Spanish." Blake's authoritative voice startles me.
Vladimir nods slowly, and the bartender hands me a crystal glass with something brown in it. I take one sip of the drink and try to hide my disgust as I let it sit on my lap.
"We are willing, but who would be handling affairs? That is now that your father has returned." His lips press together in an attempt to hide a smile.
Blake shows no falter.
"Him, of course. I will be taking a much-needed break from all of this."
All the men in the room seem to back off after Blake says this because they continue their side conversations and gambling.
Vladimir sits back in his chair and asks the waiter to mix him some sort of Russian drink that I don't want to know what tastes like.
Blake taps my leg a couple of times before standing up.
"I'll hold you to that deal, Vlad," He clears his throat.
"Just don't double-cross me. Wouldn't want to lose that precious jewel by your side." He looks me up and down while the other men look my way.
Blake sends him a dirty look.
"The same goes for you."
"Nice to see you, gentlemen," Blake says as he ushers me towards the door, eager to leave this dangerous room.
Some men shake his hand once more, and a sweet short guy takes my wrist for a simple kiss. Blake looks as though he may have his head, but I think the gesture is genuine.
We reach the door, and Blake quickly unlocks it, revealing the dimly lit hallway we came through.
Once we exit, we silently walk down the narrow staircase and make our way to one of the main foyers.
Finally, when no one is around, Blake allows himself to stop.
"Is everything okay?" I question concernedly.
He looks at me with such sweet and tender eyes that I may burst this very second.
"Yes, everything is perfect."
He hugs me tight and spins me around while I laugh. Not just any superficial giggle. I let out a burst of genuine laughter that I haven't heard myself emit in a long time.
"Put me down!!" I squeal as he spins.
He gently lowers me and smashes his lips against mine with a passion that is only in the movies. I moan as he slips his tongue into my mouth ever so seductively.
"You were amazing," I smile after breaking away from our minute-long kiss. He smirks while looking me up and down.
The hallway remains empty with only the moonlight shining through the opened balcony.
"Let's make the most of the night. What do you say?" He whispers into my ear.
"And how would you suggest we do that?" I giggle.
"Brynne Foster,"
Blake gets down on one knee,
"Will you dance with me?"