Gino is playing poker with Damian on the first floor of Club Seven. I’m keeping a closer eye than I’d like to admit on the entrance of the club, which isn’t easy when the place is packed full of people. It’s already an hour past ten, and with how concerned Ana seemed about keeping a reasonable sleep schedule, I’d expected her to show up by now.

I could’ve told her I’d pick her up. I already had one of my guys find her and then tail her, so I have her address and even her class schedule down. If she wanted to give me shit for that later, then more power to her, as long as she fucking shows up.

Damian sits on the barstool beside me, giving me a knowing look. He has dirty blond hair and a short beard, with hard blue eyes and tattoos covering his arms. He’s a billionaire, and easily the wealthiest Dom who attends my club. I hardly ever see him with a submissive, though. He mostly just prowls around, brooding and glaring at everyone. He’s one of the few people I keep company with who has nothing to do with the family. I met him through the club, and he knows who I am and what I do. He lets it stay that simple, and I like him for that.

“Girl trouble,” he says. It’s not a question, just a statement. A statement with the weight of experience, as if we’re outside and he’s saying something as obvious as blue sky.

“Submissive who doesn’t realize she’s a submissive yet, more like.”

He nods his understanding. “Been there.”

“And?” I ask.

Damian purses his lips. “Decided it wasn’t worth it. I’ll know when I find the right one. Until then, everything else is just a distraction. If it can’t hold my interest, then it’s gone.”

“That’s why you’re always by yourself.”

“Waiting is only hard if you don’t know what you’re waiting for,” he says.

I give him a skeptical look. “You read that on a fortune cookie?”

“I think it was a TV ad for depression meds,” he says, looking thoughtful.

I grin. “That’s a real source of fucking wisdom right there. Thanks, Damian.”

He claps a hand on my back. “If she’s keeping you waiting, then fuck her. Move on to the next one.”

“Oh, I’m going to fuck her.”

“That’s not—” Damian shakes his head. “Nevermind. Listen, I need to get back to the cards before your brother starts cheating any more than he already is.”

“That’s a good idea.”

Damian heads back to the table, leaving me alone at the bar again, or as alone as I can be in a club full of people who all watch me like some sort of caged beast. Everyone here knows my reputation. They know about what happened between me and the Torrettis once Enzo passed the family business on to me. They know about the fucking bloodbath.

My fingers tighten into a fist, nails digging into my palms painfully. I force myself to calm. I can dwell on my mistakes another day. Tonight, I’m only interested in Ana. If midnight rolls around and she still hasn’t shown, then fuck dignity, I’m going to show up at her place. One way or another, she’s mine tonight, because if I can’t slake my thirst for her, I’ll end up doing something stupid about the growing problem with the Torrettis. More likely than not, someone will end up dead, and God knows I’ve had enough of that for a lifetime.

Once I’ve drained my drink and rolled around the dregs at the bottom of my glass for half an hour, she arrives.

I catch just a glimpse of her at the front entrance. Dark red hair. Darker eyebrows, and that look she wears on her face… to most, she probably just looks bored, or angry, but I’ve already stripped away that mask she wears and seen what’s beneath. She’s rebellious at heart, like a wild horse who has been leashed to the wrong master her whole life. She craves the discipline and order of submission deep down, but she probably doesn’t even know it.

It’s no matter. She’ll learn quickly enough, once I have her to myself.

I lose her in the crowd when I get up to find her. I push my way through the dance floor, not caring about the annoyed sounds of people who probably would shit themselves if they had a second to realize who they were grumbling at cursing at. I come out on the other side of the dancers and see her moving hesitantly around the edge of the room.

I can see all of her now. The black dress that comes down to her mid thighs. The black, lace choker she wears that’s out of style but somehow shockingly sexy on her. It draws my eyes to her neck, which has never been something I’ve given much attention to before on women, but hers is exquisite—sleek, long, and delicate. Anticipation fills me at the thought of how soft it will feel beneath my lips, at how I’ll be able to feel her heart racing just above that black choker.

She’s scanning the room with her hands clasped in front of her, bottom lip pulled into her mouth as she chews at it nervously. Those big eyes of hers are darting all around—even up, but she keeps looking right past me.

She only spots me when I’m practically on top of her. Her eyes widen and her breath catches.

“I came,” she says with a quick, anxious laugh, as if she doesn’t even believe it still.

“And it won’t be the last time tonight,” I say.

She frowns in momentary confusion before the most beautiful shade of red fills her cheeks. “S-so this is yours?” she asks, choosing to ignore my crude joke.

So civilized. I’ll enjoy fixing that.

I grin. She wants to dance around why she’s really here, does she? That’s fine with me. We can play it her way, and it’ll only be that much sweeter when she’s forced to admit where this is headed. “It is,” I say.

“Wow. I can’t believe I’ve never heard of this place.” She’s practically yelling, even though the music isn’t quite loud enough to need to speak so loud. Nervous. It’s written all over her features and body language, in the way she keeps awkwardly bobbing her head to some beat—definitely not the beat of the music.

“It’s a private club,” I say.

“Oh. Right. I guess you told them to let me in? But they didn’t even ask for my name.”

“I described you,” I say.

Her face lights up with interest. “You must have given a pretty good description for them to recognize me out of all these people.”

“I told them to look for a girl with dark red hair, a perfect body, and blue eyes that could get them into serious trouble. I also showed them your picture,” I add with a slight smile.

She grins. “I don’t think you get points for the description anymore. Wait. Where did you get a picture of me?”

“Didn’t you wonder how I knew where to find you at class? Which college you went to? What time you’d be there?”

She looks down. She hadn’t even thought of it. She’s so innocent it hurts.

“Stalker,” she teases.

“When I want something, I’ll use any tool at my disposal.”

She shifts a little uncomfortably, cheeks flushed red. “I don’t think my eyes ever got anyone into trouble before,” she says, clearly wanting to change the subject.

“They would if anyone tried to touch you.”

She gives me a confused look.

“You asked me to pretend to be your boyfriend, didn’t you?”

She shakes her head, like she’s embarrassed for not knowing what I meant sooner. “Oh, yeah. Of course.”

“The problem is, I’m not a very good actor. So if you want me to play the part, you’re going to have to let me convince myself it’s real.” It’s a lie, of course. I’m probably the best fucking actor I know, because I walk around every day and pretend I’m not twisted and black on the inside, like I don’t see the blank eyes of the men I’ve killed when I try to sleep.

“Okay,” she says.

I smirk. “That sounded a whole hell of a lot like permission.”

She grins back at me. “You could call it that.”

I take her by the small of her back, pulling her in close so her body presses to mine. I’d already forgotten how incredible she feels in my arms. So small. So fragile. Just like the last time I felt her hands against my chest, I’m overcome by a need to protect her, even if there’s no clear signs of danger. All I know is I could never let anything happen to her. Never.

I kiss her then. I hadn’t planned to. Not yet, at least, but I want every fucking person in this club to know she’s mine. Off limits.

She’s stiff against me at first, lips soft and warm but immobile. I splay my fingers across her back, letting the bottom of my hand drift down from her back to the top of her ass, confirming that she did obey my command after all. No panties.

My cock stirs as she wakes up to the kiss, softening all over, letting her tongue flick against mine and her sweet lips set to work. I pull away before she’s able to have as much as she wants. I want her hungry.

I nearly chuckle at the look on her face—something between desire and outrage.

“Hmm,” I say. “I think that will help me pretend to be your boyfriend, at least for a little while. I’ll let you know when I need another reminder.”

For a moment, I think she’s about to slap me, but she decides to blow out a frustrated breath through her nose instead.

She lets me lead her past the bar to where Gino and Damian still play cards. Gino’s stack of money has gotten smaller since I last looked, but he has a smug look on his face that tells me he’s still planning something.

“This the girl you wouldn’t shut up about?” asks Gino.

Damian covers his mouth to Gino’s side. I doubt Damian has any real reason to fear me, but he’s decent enough to at least not rub his amusement in my face.

“I told you I was meeting someone tonight and to leave me the fuck alone. You call that not shutting up about her?”

Gino shrugs. “For you? Yes. Last time you had a girl, I didn’t find out till a few months later when you broke up with her.”

Because she was nothing to me. The thought comes automatically, heartlessly. I feel a pang of guilt at the thought, but it’s true. I’ve tried dating. I’ve tried casual sex. None of it has ever given me anything but a momentary distraction. One time, maybe two times with a woman and then it’s not enough anymore. Like building up tolerance to a drug, I need more than they can give. Somewhere along the way, I stopped trying.

Until I saw Ana.

“This is my brother,” I say to her. “Unfortunately.”

Gino opens his mouth to introduce himself, but I cut him off.

“He’s an asshole, and he cheats at card games.”

Damian nods knowingly, but Gino just throws his hands up, proclaiming his innocence.

“Check his sleeves,” I suggest before leading Ana away from them and toward the elevator.

When we’re alone in the elevator, Ana flashes me a nervous smile. With the music dulled by the walls, it feels like our first real moment alone. I nearly take her then, but I know my past. I know this is likely to be nothing but a one-off, just another in the long list. So I’m not going to spoil it by rushing things. She’ll get what she came for tonight, but she’s not going to get it until she’s so wet and hungry for it that it aches in her core, until she’s ready to get on her knees and beg me so desperately that her voice gives out.

It’s going to be a long night for her, and it’s only just begun.