Page 10 of The Queen's Game (Ruthless Games 1)

THE HOURS SCREECHEDby between Monday and Thursday, nine-thirty p.m. when I left my townhouse.

“I don’t like this,” Vale said, sitting on the long bench of my Town Car.

“You’ve protected other bosses, you know they can’t hide,” Gil said to Vale, taking up most of the back seat with me and now I knew why my father ordered me the executive series car. To make sure both of my guards could follow me everywhere.

This part of our life I didn’t want. Now I had no choice. Francesca Bianco, Giancarlo’s mother, came closer to being the queen of this city than any other woman. She had been as front and center as anyone got, flaunting around town as her father’s princess with the entire royal guard always on her six.

“Who owns the building?” I asked Gil.

“Some conglomerate. Alicia rents it.”

“Her last name, Gil?”

“Smith,” he answered, shaking his head.

Fake name, obviously.

Despite West Houston Street in Lower Manhattan looking massively run down, the building my driver pulled up to was pristine. Oddly so. It stood out. Or maybe that’s what Alicia wanted.

Vale peered up and down the block. “Nothing looks out of the ordinary.”

My guards were trained to notice suspicious cars, people trying to look homeless, so poorly dressed that they stood out. And there was no reason this would be a hit. Why take me out? Unless, as I suspected, it tied back to Sunrise. An enterprise I’d been unpeeling little by little. And becoming sicker and sicker at what I was finding.

Please, please let this be Sebastien.He’d help me. Unless Bastien the Bastard morphed into someone I really didn’t know anymore.

It makes sense for us to be together. You and me.Anthony’s words at the fundraiser last weekend rolled through me again. I doubted I could convince him that a date rape drug should be shut down.

Just as I thought anyone who Kato beat up or killed deserved it, Anthony Sr. at least would surely think any woman naïve enough to accept a drink or take a drug hit from a stranger also deserved to be taken advantage of. Too many men still thought like that.

Damn, more women needed to be in power.

Vale had gotten out while I’d slipped inside my head. Then knocked on the window. When the driver lowered it on my signal, he said, “Looks okay. I’m going in with her, G.”

“Have at it,” Gil said, swiping an iPad. “I’m checking for suspicious cell signals bouncing off the closest tower. Burner phones.”

Taking Vale’s hand to help me out of the Town Car, I glanced up and down the block at all the shabby clothes and unwashed bodies. Most didn’t look like they could afford a cup of coffee, let alone a burner phone.

Vale tried to keep my hand clutched in his, but I pulled away. I was my own woman now. A guard symbolized I had protection. My strong demeanor and powerful attitude had to prove I wouldn’t be fucked with. Or intimidated.

The entrance to the building included four cement steps to a sublevel behind a plate-glass window. Vale opened the door for me after looking inside. Beyond the door, a classic lacquered mahogany bar stretched out. Well-dressed, hot-as-fuck couples sat on high-back velvet stools. The smell of expensive perfume, beautifully arranged top-shelf liquor bottles lined up behind the bar, and the hum of soft jazz from a speaker made my heart sing in my chest. This place screamed Sebastien.

Ice-blonde hair glowed as Alicia strutted past all the couples, glancing and nodding at her clients. Private bars and clubs were all the rage for men in my world.

“Right on time,” Alicia said, smiling. “I assume now you’re comfortable enough for me to bring you to my client’s private suite.”

“No,” I answered before Vale said a word. “He meets me here.” I pointed to two occupied seats in the center of the bar. “And my guard stays until I see who this is. And if it’s someone I don’t know, he stays the whole time.”

Alicia fluttered her eyes. “Wait right here.”

“Miss Domenico doesn’t wait,” Vale snarled.

“Then follow me to the seating area beyond the bar. It’s in the open. Please understand these seats are for paying clients. Of which you’re not, Miss Domenico.”

I appreciated someone who was direct and not afraid of me.

“Fine.” I reached behind me and flashed my twisted-finger signal to Vale that I was okay. “But my guard still comes with me.”

“Those were the agreed-upon terms.” Alicia swung around and like a model gliding down a runway, she sashayed past all the barstools. She brought me to a sunken lounge drenched with amber light from golden sconces sweeping across leather sofas. Tucked into pockets of the back wall, incense bottles filled the room with smoky musk.

“This is acceptable.” I kept telling myself as soon as Sebastien showed his face, I’d be safe. He’d never let anything happen to me. Right?

Alicia pointed to an empty seating section with a black leather sofa facing two white velvet wing-back chairs. At the end of the room, a silver elevator door with a narrow window lit up a wedge of light on the gold and burgundy printed carpet. Something told me whoever invited me here would come down that elevator. Did I want to see him step out, or did I want to keep the surprise and suspense going?

My legs decided before I could consider it further as I lowered into the velvet wing-back chair which faced the other way. Vale stood to my left glaring at the elevator.

Despite the buzz of voices and the clinking and clattering of glasses, my senses had sharpened enough to hear the elevator. I kept my eyes glued to Vale, who snuck his hand in his jacket, ready for anything. It was his face that shocked me.

He mouthed what the fuck, but dropped his hands from his jacket.

Not Sebastien, I assumed immediately. Vale would have certainly given me an assuring smirk.

Who then?

I gasped, Nate! Oh, dear God, this had spoiled rockstar written all over it.

I jumped up to hug my big brother, but quickly wobbled backward.

Not Nate.

My nails dug into the chair, gripping the humpback. Then they tightened as my pulse quickened.

Not Sebastien, either.

My heart pounded, taking in those eyes and my pussy clenched, soaked in his stare.

Oh my God...

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