You Will Be Mine(47)

She waved her hand. “Ah, that was nothing. Just a bit of sex to help pass the time. He was good, though.” Placing her hand on my arm, she gave it a little squeeze. “I must get going. Can’t keep Mr. Broadmore waiting.” She winked and marched off.

“So, you and the Italian wannabe gangster have really been hitting it off.” Rachael didn’t sound too enthralled by the idea.

“Oh, shut up, Rachael,” Belinda said. “You’re just jealous no one’s giving you orgasms like that.”

“I’m sure I can find someone who will.” Rachael huffed and went on her way.

“What’s with moody-guts?” She seemed off to me, and I wanted to know why.

“I think she thought maybe you two were just having a bit of fun. It seems more serious than that now, and I don’t think she likes it.”

“But I never—”

“Don’t worry about her,” Samantha protested. “She’s just sore that she’s not the one giving you an orgasm like that. She knows you would never let her, but it’s obvious it hasn’t really sunk in until now. I think she’s been so used to having you all to herself.” She smiled suddenly. “I, on the other hand, think it’s great. It’s about time you found someone—even if your relationship does sound a little unconventional. I’m happy if you’re happy. Are you happy?”

I had to think about that for a moment. It was something I had always thought I was until now. I think I had just been stuck in a rut for far too long and had just come to accept that this was my way of life. It was strange that it took this handsome, dark stranger coming into my life and turning my world upside-down for me to see that rut for what it was.

Samantha saw me hesitate slightly. “I’ll put it another way, then. How does he make you feel?”

Without meaning to, I smiled. I didn’t know where it even came from; it just surfaced like a submarine once gravity has relinquished its hold.

“I think that answers your question, Samantha.” Belinda nudged Samantha in the arm, and they both chuckled.

“Okay, you guys. You’ve had your fun. Time to start mingling. There are a few faces I don’t recognise, and I’m eager to find out who they are.”

Belinda looked around with me. “Yes, it would seem Luca has brought in some new clientele. The rooms are filling up by the minute. Tonight will certainly make up for the days of lost profit.” Belinda smiled, and I smiled back, hoping she was right.



As the evening wore on, Luca was never far away from me, and neither did he let me out of his sight. Each time a man tried to talk to me, Luca was there—offering a possessive hand on my back and a “don’t you dare fucking go near her” look. After a while, my eyes had rolled so many times that it was actually starting to hurt, and the exhaustion of the whole evening was taking its toll.

Some of my girls had paired off and disappeared into their respective rooms while others were still enjoying the ambience. I had come to believe that some were here not just for the sex, but for the masquerade itself. I had to hand it to Luca; he had done well here.

It was later—while in the relative quiet of the toilet—that the excitement of what was coming later really began to brew. I had butterflies in my stomach at the prospect, and it was a feeling that was completing overwhelming me. He was an egotistical, domineering … alpha bull of a man. But, for some reason, my heart fluttered and my knees went weak whenever he was around. He was steadily shattering my defences one by one—and he knew it. He also knew I knew it. I just couldn’t have him command me like he so desperately desired. He wanted me begging and submissive beneath him. I just wasn’t prepared to do that. Not for him—not for anyone.

I was headed back to the bar when I bumped into a man I recognised from earlier in the evening. He was one of the ones who had been staring at me in the crowd—and he hadn’t stopped staring. He looked like he was in his late thirties, and he had jet-black hair and dark brown eyes. He was tall, slim, and had an air of arrogance about him. “Clara Murphy, isn’t it?”

I could hear the slight twang of an Italian accent. He must be either one of Luca’s cronies or a new client. If he belonged to the latter group, he obviously hadn’t received the memo about me. Especially since he was leering at my breasts.

“Yes, and you are?”

“My apologies.” He smiled and took my hand. “Antonio Cavelli.” He kissed my hand before giving it a seductive stroke. “I am a very close business friend of Luca’s, and I can see that he has snapped up the most beautiful woman here.”