✰ ✰

"𝐒𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐎𝐧𝐞"

"Reservation?"

I roll my eyes at the receptionist, who was inefficiently examining Roman. I clear my throat and tap my nails against the counter.

"Yes, it'll be under Agnello or Malik," I explain, and her gaze flits to mine before flying to her computer screen, where she begins to type the names in.

"Oh yes, two Brooklyn Suites under Malik,"

"Mhm," I murmur, a tight smile on my face.

She reached into a drawer and pulled out two key cards and handed them to me.

"Everything is in place and ready. Both rooms are on the 30th floor, and we hope you enjoy your stay at The Hilton."

"Thank you," I say with a smile as I loop my arm through Roman's and lead us out of the lobby and to the elevators.

Roman's sharp gaze was fixed on me but ignored it knowing he was inwardly chuckling at my minor outburst.

We enter through the opening metal doors, they close as he presses our floor button. I leant against the wall and glanced at my shoes, my mind buried deep in my thoughts.

The elevator is silent, with calm classical music playing in the background. My gaze is drawn upward towards Roman, who is also leaning against the wall, his head tilted and his eyes closed.

He looked serene, but also incredibly fucking sexy. This man never took a day off from being physically perfect.

With a ring, the elevator doors open, jolting me out of my reverie and permitting me to step away from the wall. Roman follows suit, and we both proceed to the rooms, side by side.

I'm guessing it was because of the size of the rooms that both rooms were at the very end of the corridor.

I hand his key card to him and the bag he was holding for me gets replaced with it. Using my own key card, I press it against the buzzer, which flashes green and unlocks the door with a light buzz.

We both enter our own rooms at the same time, the door behind me shuts, and I sigh and rest against the frame.

I entered the room. It was spacious and modern. Further in, there was a lone king-sized bed with a television mounted on the wall in front of it. A wide balcony and a small sitting room are both located directly in front of the bedroom.

On the single polished desk, a tiny box of chocolates was placed, along with a card from the hotel. I smiled as I took the silver-wrapped chocolate and carefully peeled the foil before popping the tasty treat into my mouth.

My legs dragged me over to the bed, where I dropped the bag. I unzip it and take out my essentials, such as my toothbrush and makeup, and place them in the bathroom, as well as my clothes, which I place on the bed before heading into the bathroom to shower.

✰

In the mirror, I scrutinised my appearance. My look was simple but appealing. A deep green satin dress that fits all of my contours, and the fabric dips just a little at the peak of my breasts, while the length stopping just above mid-thigh.

To go with it, I wore my standard black heels and a basic silver necklace with encrusted silver diamonds around it to highlight my neck. My nose piercing remained in place, and my hair was left in its original soft curls that reached to my forearms.

My makeup was also minimal, consisting of concealer, mascara, and a soft winged liner. My cheekbones were highlighted with a tad of highlighter and my lips were coated in strawberry lip gloss.

I nodded, satisfied, and walked away from my mirror to my bed, taking my purse in my hands. My customary blade was slid underneath my dress in its usual spot, and I also took my personalised gun from the bag and into my purse.

My heels click away as I approach the door, which I open and go out into the corridor, sliding my key card over the buzzer to seal it.

I take a deep breath and stroll over to Roman's room, knocking twice on the door and waiting for him to open it.

I stare down at the carpeted floor, lightly tapping my heels against it, and patiently waited. The door swung open and when I looked up, I was greeted by such a heavenly sight.

Amber eyes pierce my own before I move my gaze away and towards his body.

A matte black button-down, the first three buttons were undone revealing a glimpse of his golden tatted skin beneath it, as well as the silver chain with a silver cross sitting comfortably on his chest. The sleeves of his shirt were rolled up to his elbows, once again revealing the tatted art splattered throughout his skin and only emphasising his bulging biceps that threatened to rip beneath the shirt.

His wrist was adorned with an expensive silver and gold watch, and multiple silver rings on his fingers. I hadn't noticed the two diamond studs on his ears until now, glistening in the dim light from above him.

His raven curls were tousled and perfectly placed on his head. He was dressed in black slacks, glossy black shoes, and a black tux jacket thrown over his shoulder, which he was holding in his hand.

Roman appeared to be a model from the gods themselves. Crafted and made to perfection.

I cleared my throat and stepped to the side to allow him to walk out of the threshold, returning my gaze to his eyes. He appeared to be in a haze as he ran a heavy hand through his hair and closed the door behind him.

"Ready?" I ask, glancing up at him.

He hums in response without looking at me, and I started to walk but was pulled back by an arm encircling my waist. While colliding with a hard rock body, a little squeal escaped my lips as a reaction to the unexpected contact.

When I looked up I locked on his mixed eyes, the green a darker shade, and the brown a chocolate shade. A powerful and dark look was held in them reflectively making me gulp at the intimacy in them.

Two strong hands remained on the dip of my waist, held against his body, and I instinctively placed my hands on his chest.

Licking his scarlet lips while he scrutinised my features causing my body to feel all hot and heavy. He bends down to my ear, his cool breath striking my flesh.

"You look stunning, Arabella,"

Those words alone were enough to make my lower sex flood. His voice had a sensual roughness and a deeper buried undertone to it.

He moved his lips away, sinking them towards my jaw and I felt the plump lips press against my jaw then fade away.

Butterflies, tingles, you name it, all had just swarmed my body mercilessly.

As he moved away and left an arm around my waist, I swallowed hard and tried to balance myself whilst my legs nearly gave out.

We soon made our way to the elevators together. We stood side by side, his arm around my waist, my unstable pulse-pounding heavily while he pushed the button.

Soon after, the doors open and we enter inside; a girl our age or possibly younger was typing quickly on her phone in the corner, having only noticed our presence as the doors closed.

I didn't pay any mind to her and neither did Roman as we made our way towards the lobby.

My eyes widen when I felt Roman's hand on my waist, gently creep towards my lower stomach. His fingers making circular patterns over the silk fabric, my attention shifted to my stomach. I found it difficult to breathe while his hand was so close to the top of my crotch.

Another two people walked through the doors as the elevators reopened, while they conversed. I move my gaze up to Roman, only to find him staring blankly at the buttons in front of us, his lips slightly tipped.

He knew what he was doing.

Finally, we arrived at the bottom, and I rushed out for the exit, desperate for some fresh air after being trapped in that overly sexual tensioned elevator.

I could sense Roman close behind me, right as I head through the lobby and out the doors. The cool air hit my bare skin, and I sighed softly.

I was drawn to the two black SUVs parked on the curbside, where two men in black suits conversed, signifying that they were the drivers. My gaze was drawn to the platinum blonde-haired boy across from them.

Blondie was there in all his glory, smoking a single cigarette and gazing up at the sky. I smiled and called his name. He snapped his head in my direction, and he waved as he started to approach me.

"Hey Arabella," He greets, putting out the finished cigarette with his shoe.

"Hey, blondie," I grin and he frowns looking back up at me.

"Blondie?" He questions amused.

"Mhm, it's a name I came up with, for you,"

He smirks and shook his head lightly with amusement. An arm wrapped itself around my waist again, already knowing who it is by the rings and tattoos littered on his hand I glanced back up at Theo.

"I didn't know you were coming," I mention.

"Gotta help him with the bags," He shrugs and turns his head to the side.

Roman scoffs and looks away from us, signalling the drivers to start the engines with his hand.

"I'll see you soon," Theo says to me, walking away.

Roman now walks me to my separate car and assists me with getting in. Once I was slipped in and had everything with me he leant down and looked me in the eyes.

"Be careful Bellissima, yes?" His accent comes out thick and I bit my lip and nodded.

Translation: Beautiful

"Always," I replied.

I noticed his gaze flickering to my lips and then back to my eyes. He nods once and closes the door. The driver pulls away from the curb and onto the slick roadways.

✰

My gaze wanders around the mansion, which is bathed in light. A dazzling chandelier hangs in the entranceway, and each corridor has little crystal dangling lights from the ceiling.

Men in suits, women in dresses or elegant outfits, all scattered around.

The mansion was enormous, with corridors after corridors, rooms after rooms, all leading to a bleak ending. The dark, polished tiled flooring made my heels click consistently loud. My chin was raised high as I crossed the room. Eyes shifted towards my moving body, which was nothing out of the ordinary for me.

The dark gazes of men, the envious or admiring gazes of women, they were all lured to me. I scan through them all, looking for tonight's target.

With no luck so far, I walk up to the dimly lit bar, curving my legs over the white leather stool and softly smiling at the bartender.

"A glass of champagne, please,"

The man looks at me from top to bottom, a mischievous smirk tugging at his lips, before nodding and grabbing a glass and bottle.

Shifting in my seat, I cast a glance over my shoulder, circling the room until my gaze lands on a table in the far corner.

There's a booth there with cream leather seats and a rectangular stone table. Half-empty whisky and bourbon bottles, as well as ashtrays and thick cigars laid upon the table.

My eyes shift to the individuals seated at the table. Four males, to be precise, all of them young and fit. Two girls, dressed in a bra and miniskirts sat on two of their laps, laughing and sipping white wine.

And then my attention was instantly drawn to the male at the head of the table. Brown dishevelled hair, dark blue eyes, and dark tanned skin, wearing black slacks and a white button-down shirt with three buttons undone at the front.

I moved on to the tattoo on his neck; it was difficult to tell from afar, but it appeared to resemble a skull. He had the same one as the other members, but he seemed a little different, and remembering the information, the leader was meant to have a line through his own, symbolising the leader of the gang.

His blue eyes then connected with mine.

I felt an uneasy feeling crawl across my skin as the dark deceitful eyes pierced into mine.

"Your champagne miss,"

Looking away, I turn towards the bartender who had the glass in his hands. I smiled and took it from him, thanking him before he returned his attention to the individuals who were still awaiting his assistance.

The bittersweet taste of the golden fizz struck my taste buds, giving my skin a faint tingle.

"Ma'am?" A deep voice said from beside me.

A hefty man dressed in a navy blue suit stared at me from my right. I nodded and smiled as I sipped my champagne once more.

"Boss would like to see you,"

Strike one, completed.

I feigned a frown and naively tilted my head as the man beckoned for me to follow him, leaving me to rise from the stool, take my glass, and walk behind the bulky man to the back reserved table.

A man at the table with a brunette on his lap gave a nod to the target before shifting his gaze back to me.

As soon as I arrived at the table, the blue eyes met mine, a malicious smile appeared on his lips, and he stood up and extended his hand to me.

"Wyatt Wright," He says, taking my hand in his, "And you are?" He asks and I softly smile.

"Arabella."