CHAPTER 4
VINCENT
She pulls the tie out of her hair and her hair falls in waves, draping around her small shoulders. I’m immediately assaulted by a sweet coconut scent blended with something uniquely Eve.
“Your hair…it got even longer. I love it like this.” Even though I know that Tom and Claire aren’t listening to us, I’ll use their existence as an excuse to get closer. I watch her take a sharp breath as I bring my hand to her hair, gently pushing it aside to see her beautiful neck.
She stares out the window, the softness of her profile melting my insides. Her nose is small and slightly turned up, lips full, hair dark and natural…everything about her, on a physical level, works for me. I know I don’t deserve it, but if she’s willing to say yes, I’m not going to turn it away just because I had to bring up some hard shit to get her to agree. I’ll explain everything to her later, but before I do, I need to remind her how good we are together.
I’m waiting for her to look back at me, but she doesn’t. I’m not a patient man, and I have zero tolerance for being ignored.
“Eve.” My voice comes out harshly, but it works. She finally moves her head, and everything is written clearly on her face; I have no choice but to pause. Does she know how obvious her love is? How pure? It takes my goddamn breath away and makes me curse who I am and where I come from. How can I see a woman like this, after all she’s been through, and bring her back into my world of violence? Would she ever accept my life?
I always loved women. Being with Daniela had zero bearing on my extracurricular activities. I live in New York City, not some small town in Nebraska; there’s no shortage of pussy here. But Eve was never the kind of girl who would just be a regular fuck. I knew it the moment I first laid eyes on her. I had only just met her and immediately brought her to one of my restaurants. I think there was a part of me that was always looking for her. And the moment our eyes met, everything clicked in place.
The vehicle stops and the driver jumps out, opening our door. We all exit the car and immediately walk to the front of the long line, my huge hand holding her tiny one as we step forward. She squeezes my palm nervously and I look down at her. “I’ve got you.” She looks at me and slightly nods, seemingly reassured. She believes she’s safe with me. Again, I ask myself, what the fuck am I doing?
“Vincent, what up man?”
I fist bump the enormous bouncer who I’d guess weighs over two-fifty. He moves to the side as he opens the red-velvet rope. I turn to Eve as we step into the club, noticing the wide-eyed look on her face as if she’s never seen something so beautiful. Just like its name, the entire bar is gold. The walls are lined with golden skulls and even the drapes are gold. Giant crystal chandeliers hang from the ceiling, giving the place a warm glow.
We’re ushered to a private table in the back with a perfect view of the dance floor. Eve and I sit together on one side, Claire and Tom on the other. Eve is watching raptly as half-naked bodies gyrate to the music in front of us; I take her hand, rubbing my thumb across her knuckles.
The table server saunters over to us in a tiny bikini top and shorts, her tits and ass pouring out of both. She bends down seductively, placing a large golden bucket on our table filled with bottles of vodka and glass jugs of cranberry and orange juice. She pauses before walking away, her eyes flaring with interest. Once upon a time, I’d take this woman up on her offer. We both know that with a nod, I could get this woman on her knees in the club’s back room. The entire thing—like almost everything in life—is a transaction. She wants my dick, and I feel horny. One plus one equals two. Crazy how over the last twelve months, just the idea of a woman other than the beauty next to me is enough to turn my stomach.
“Can I get you something?” She slowly scrapes a long fingernail against the back of my neck. I grab her wrist, probably harder than necessary, turning my head so I’m staring at her hard.
“Don’t touch me.” Her eyes widen in fear. Finally, when I’m good and ready, I let her go. She scurries away.
I turn to Eve then, but her eyes are still trained on the dance floor. I’m glad she didn’t catch that exchange with the waitress; most of these women are disrespectful as fuck. They don’t deserve to breathe the same air as my girl. Dropping a hand on her leg and gently caressing her thigh, she turns to me, biting her lip, as if she’s conflicted. She probably doesn’t want to enjoy herself, but the music is amazing and the crowd is hot.
Still, this girl, she fills me up inside exactly how I need. Yeah, she’s seen some bad shit. But somehow, she’s maintained this… innocence. She may be better than a man like me deserves, but now that I’ve got her, there’s no way I’m letting her go again. I want to do right by her, but I’m not a fuckin’ saint.
She inches closer to me. “So, DMX, huh?” Her face is so expectant I have to hold myself back from not throwing my arms around her and mauling her right here at the table. I shift my body, adjusting my dick in my jeans. She has no idea how special she is. Other girls would be sitting on my lap, trying to do whatever they could to keep my interest. They’d be asking me what they could do for me. They’d beg to meet DMX. But Eve isn’t other girls.
Instead of saying all of these things, I reply with one word: “Yes.”
“Vincent...” she takes a deep breath, looking as if she’s ready to go off on a rant. I stop her with a hand on her thigh.
“Shut that brain of yours off tonight. A promise is a promise, Eve.” I move to the edge of the couch and pour three shot glasses of vodka. I hand one glass to her and pick the other two up for myself.
“Are you asking me not to think, Vincent? Because any time a man asks a woman not to think—”
“I’m not asking you. I’m telling you.” I can’t take my eyes off her. I go ahead and throw back one drink, waiting patiently for her to take hers. “I dare you, Eve,” I say with a joking smile, trying to bring the moment down a notch. It isn’t easy for me to be playful, but I want to be.
She purses her lips, doing her best not to laugh. “Listen. If I take this drink, it’s not because you’re daring me.” She raises an eyebrow.
“No?” She wants to play? I’ll play.
“No.” Her lips slightly pucker at the end of the word, and I can’t help but stare at them. “It’s because I’m in college now, and I can drink if I want to. Understand?” Her attitude and this newfound strength only turns me on more.
“By all means, college girl. Be free to experiment.” I pause. “But only with me, when I can make sure you’re safe.”
“I can take care of myself, Vincent. I’ve been through a lot, in case you’ve forgotten.”
“I haven’t forgotten anything. Not even a minor detail.” I pause, looking her up and down until her face heats. “But getting drunk in a place where someone can easily spike your drink? That’s not experimenting. That’s just stupid.”
She clears her throat. “So, right now, you’re giving me this drink because?” She cocks that gorgeous head of hers to the side, waiting for my response.
“Because I want you to relax and let go a bit. Have some of that college fun you deserve. Safely.”
She lifts the glass to her pouty lips, swallowing the drink. Her face scrunches from the burn and I hand her a lemon. She takes a bite and breathes a sigh of relief.
“L-listen, Vincent.” Her earlier bravado turns to hesitation. “I know you took care of some stuff for me in the past. But I’m not that girl anymore, okay? I’m not looking for someone to run my life. And I sure as hell am not trying to get wrapped up in your… family business. I spent close to nineteen years running away from that shit, and I’m not getting brought back into it—”
“—And I’m not looking to drag you into something you don’t want. I helped you out, as a friend. You don’t owe me anything, understand? I brought it up in the car because I wanted you to come out with me tonight. I felt like seeing you. Not because I wanted compensation.”
She nods, letting out a relieved exhale. A better man may feel guilty for lying, but not me. Killing Carlos was never for the sake of friendship. Every punch and kick—until he was writhing in his own blood on the floor—every ounce of heat I gave that fucker with my fists, was payback. He thought he could torment my woman, nearly rape her, and get away with it? I made him pay like the dirty snake he was. I’m still the son of Antonio Borignone. And no one fucks with me and mine.
She lifts her face. “Can we have some fun now?”
Tom drops next to me, growling in my ear. “This bitch has you by the fucking balls, Borignone. Stop this shit!” He’s seething.
I want to grab his throat, tell him if he ever speaks to me like that again, I’ll put a bullet in his head. But Eve is next to me looking so happy, and there’s no way I’d jeopardize that. I swallow down my anger, focusing on her instead.
Standing, I bring her with me to the center of the dance floor. She’s got great rhythm, so obviously comfortable in her own skin when she’s dancing. It’s at odds with her regular shyness. I can tell she’s holding back for now, and I can’t wait until she lets go.
I maintain a slight distance, which is difficult for me; I always take what I want. But with Eve, I’ve always held back. The arrogant prick inside me knows that with her, everything needs to be different. I’ve gotta shut up and wait.
Song after song comes and goes, and we don’t stop moving. It’s Eminem. We’re still not close enough, but I can see her body relaxing. We’re in our own orbit; I’m going to keep us here for as long as I can.
The song changes again and then again. It’s “In Da Club” by 50 Cent. His gravel voice blares from the speakers and the entire dance floor cheers. We’re sweating, and her cheeks are flushing pink. My eyes rove around her small and curvy body. She’s wearing a simple cotton tank top with a white lacy bra underneath, but holy shit if it’s not sexier than all of these girls who are walking around half nude. Her hair is down and free, the way I love it.
She finally takes a step closer, letting me know I don’t have to keep a distance. I bring my arms around her and we immediately fall into step. How is it possible I can connect with someone in this way? My arms move to her small waist and she turns her body so her back is against my front. She’s sweating, and it makes her scent more acute. My dick hardens. Eve may have been a book nerd for her entire life, but it’s obvious she was made to dance. I stay with her, keeping control of our movements but at the same time giving her room to do her own thing.
She turns. “Vincent, I want another drink,” she yells happily over the music.
I pull her back through the crowd to get to the table, immediately pouring three more shots. I hand her another drink, taking the other two for myself.
She’s about to grab it from my hands when I pull it back. “You don’t have to finish this, okay? Just a sip.”
Smirking at me in defiance, she lifts it up and swallows the whole thing down. I shake my head as I give her a slice of lemon, watching her teeth sink into the bitterness. She lifts her shoulders, daring me to stop her. I can only laugh as I quickly shoot down my own drinks. I’ve been drinking alcohol for so many years now, it would take another five to get me drunk.
We’re back on the dance floor when she starts giggling, leaning on me. She may think she doesn’t need anyone, but why fight through life alone when you can have back up?
DMX gives the crowd his signature growl, and the entire room instantly starts screaming with excitement. I feel someone push against me. I open my eyes to look around, noticing the dance floor is completely full. I wrap my arms around Eve’s shoulders protectively, making sure she’s safe and comfortable. Somehow, we’ve landed ourselves in a mosh pit.
She’s jumping up and down in excitement. I chuckle at her exuberance. Some guys bump into us and I turn my head quickly, glaring. They move to the side, but within a few minutes, the crowd grows aggressive. Eve won’t feel comfortable in this.
She starts to lose her footing as people continue to push forward, trying to get closer to the stage. She looks at me with an anxiety-filled face and I immediately walk us off the packed floor.
The moment we get to the table, she starts in a rush. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t. It was too much—”
I push an errant hair from her face and she quiets. “Don’t ever apologize.” I turn to Tom while Eve hangs on my side. He’s staring at us, an angry look on his face. “Yo, Tom. We’re out.” He stands up to shake my hand goodbye; I squeeze his as hard as I can, letting him know without words that he and I have shit to discuss later. I know he’s only thinking of the best for me, but if he ever disrespects my girl again, I’ll make him pay.
Eve and I walk out of the club. The cool air feels good. I’m about to take out my phone to call the driver when Eve, seemingly out of the blue, says, “I’m lost.” She lifts her hand to her lips, surprised that she said that out loud.
I turn to her. “No, baby. I found you, remember?” She stares up at me, all purity and trust. I need to get us out of here.
I pull out my phone from my jacket pocket and type to the driver to come get us. Her eyes are trained on my face; she’s studying me. Never in my life have I given a fuck about my looks. I know women like what they see, but my face was never something I had to work for and therefore, it’s not something I’m particularly proud of. But the way Eve is looking at me now—memorizing every feature of my face—makes me want to give God a high five.
“Your mom was Native American, right? You look it.” She blushes. She’s drunk, staring at me with wide eyes like I created the damn universe in four days. I do my best to resist the urge to lift her into my arms.
I put my phone away and pull my jacket off, draping it around her tiny shoulders. It hangs on her, falling to the middle of her calves.
“Tell me you have a coat.” I pull the sides of my jacket around her so that the wind won’t get through. It’s not too cold, but she definitely isn’t dressed warmly enough for a fall New York City night.
“Yeah, I do. I just bought a new coat from Barneys yesterday at the bargain price of five hundred dollars,” she deadpans.
I chuckle. “Five hundred? Is that it?” She pulls my jacket closer to her body, smelling the collar and tightly shutting her eyes.
The black Escalade pulls up. As the driver moves to get out of the car, I shake my head, letting him know to stay put. Eve is mine tonight, and I want to be the one to hold the door for her. I open it and she climbs inside first. Taking a look at her perfect heart-shaped ass, I groan at all the things I wish I could do. I follow in behind her and shut the door as I sit inside. Without another word, the car heads downtown.
“Are we going to your SoHo apartment?” She clasps her hands together nervously. The last time I brought her to my place downtown, she opened up to me about Carlos. Hopefully tonight, I’ll be able to have another honest conversation with her.
Moving my hands around her waist, I pull her to sit on my lap. She leans her head in the crook of my neck and shoulder as if it were the most natural thing in the world. When her eyes shut, I feel relief like I’ve never known. How can she fit so well in my arms? I ask myself for the hundredth time, what the fuck am I doing? Normally, I’m calculated. I don’t do shit without thinking it all through. Consequences. Positive outcomes. Potential disasters. I’m a numbers and logic man. And this? This is something I never do: emotion.
We get to my building. The doorman holds the door and I strut through, Eve following right behind me. I still haven’t said a word to her since we got into the car. Standing together in the elevator, she barely reaches the center of my chest. She’s biting her lip, and fuck if I don’t want to throw her against the wall right now.
We step off and walk to my door, where I type my security codes. Before pushing the door open, I pause to take a look at Eve and wonder if I’m not about to make an enormous mistake. She stares at me with absolute trust, and I know that I can’t stop myself. I want this woman.