I can’t take all the details in at once, but his apartment is modern art deco, framed by an incredible amount of windows that look out from such a high view that it’s like we’re surrounded by stars. Everything is perfectly in place, clean, and expensive looking. He steps out of the car and opens my door, giving me an exaggerated gesture to exit. I’m too shocked to say anything barely even noticing as he blatantly looks up my skirt as I get out.
“How do you afford all of this?”
He doesn’t answer, but puts his strong hand on the small of my back possessively, leading me through the glass door of the elevator where his car still sits on a circular slab of concrete that begins slowly rotating once we step off.
“Have a drink,” he says, motioning for me to sit on his couch. It’s a smooth white material that looks like leather but feels like silk. I sink into it, feeling immediately tired, like I could fall asleep in its comfort. He slips his jacket off, stretching his blood-stained shirt against the strong muscles of his chest before moving into the kitchen. I hear glasses rattle and liquid pouring, but all I want to do now is close my eyes and decompress. He emerges a few minutes later, holding a martini glass for me that looks like it came from a professional bar—deep red frosted liquid with a cherry and a black straw. The edge of the glass is crusted with thick salt. He has a glass of a liquid the same amber color as a pill bottle.
Vince sits beside me, close enough that his thigh touches mine, and even that small contact sends a rush through me. I sip the drink and raise my eyebrows. It’s fruity, sweet, and has just the right amount of kick behind it. “This is good,” I say.
He tilts his head down in thanks, looking admiringly at me.
“Stop it,” I say, blushing and looking away.
“For a girl who works in front of a camera, you’re unusually shy.”
I take another sip, already feeling myself relax, at least as much as it’s possible to relax after everything I’ve seen. Then I remember Aria. I feel like shit for not asking sooner, but everything happened so fast that it had slipped my mind until now. “Vince. Did you hurt Ronnie White?”
“I don’t talk business with women.”
I bristle at his tone, but put my indignation aside for Aria’s sake. “My friend was seeing him. It’s important to me.”
He looks at me for a long moment and then shakes his head. “It’s bad practice to talk business with women. It puts you at risk.”
“And I’m not already at risk? Three men just tried to…” I’m surprised when a hot tear slips down my cheek without warning. Vince sets his drink down and puts his arms around me before I have time to react. It feels good. I hold my drink to my chest, feeling so overwhelmed.
His voice is soft. “I hurt him, but he’ll live. We dropped him off at his place just before I came to the stadium.”
“Can I text her and let her know?”
He pauses. “As long as I can read the text first.”
His lack of trust stings a little, but right now I just want to make sure I can put Aria’s mind at ease, even if it’s just a little bit.
Talked to him. Ronnie is hurt, but okay. Ronnie should be back at his place now. Sorry for everything.
Vince eyes the text and then nods, tapping send. I set the phone back in my clutch and take another sip of my drink. He sips his as well, eyeing me over the rim. Then he sets his drink on the arm of the chair and stands. “Make yourself comfortable. I’m going to get out of these clothes. I’ll grab something for you, too.”
I wait on the couch, drinking more of the drink than I planned to and feeling a pleasant buzz by the time I’ve finished. I have time to admire the apartment more. I spend a while watching the sparkling lights of traffic below, crawling through the city. I look at the sleek marble floors and the plush rugs beneath his furniture. It feels so clean and sexy. His BMW still rotates slowly in the elevator, catching light and bending it in a thousand ways, giving the whole apartment an almost over-the-top luxurious feel. It seems like I’ve been swept from my normal life and landed somewhere between a dream and a nightmare, like he’s an angel with a black dagger hidden behind his back.
When he returns, he’s naked except for a black towel. “I got more blood on me than I realized. I’m going to hop in the shower. You should, too.”
I raise my eyebrow. “Just because you kidnapped me, it doesn’t mean I’m going to become your sex slave.” The words come out of my mouth more flirtatiously than I intend, and he smirks at me.
“I meant you could shower after me, but you’re welcome to join me if that was what you were thinking.”