45

MILLIE
As the tempo escalated, I felt a presence closing in behind me. Though I didn’t need to turn around to know who it was, the surrounding atmosphere shifted in subtle deference to this newcomer. The murmurs of respect from the men, the admiring glances from the women-all of it hinted at his identity. Still swaying to the music, my body naturally responded to his unspoken command. Our motions aligned seamlessly, and his firm hands gently landed on my hips, claiming his place in the dance. An initial flicker of worry about the hands vanished as recognition dawned-it was Gio, his grip both commanding and familiar.
A daring move brought our bodies into intimate contact, his presence dominating the space behind me. My lips curved into a playful smile as our bodies moved together, lost in the rhythm, lost in each other. Gio’s breath, warm and electric, grazed my ear, sending a shiver down my spine. His voice, like a low, raspy promise, carried over the music. “Who are you dancing for?”
Our eyes locked, his stormy gray gaze igniting my senses. “You. Only you,” I responded, the words charged with a fervor that matched the intensity of the moment.
Desire and possessiveness warred within Gio’s expression. “What are you doing here?”
“Dancing,” I replied, a note of defiance entering my voice.
A shadow of frustration flickered in his gaze, though it was swiftly replaced by an unyielding determination. “I told Dario ‘no’.”
My spine straightened, and a blaze of independence surged within me. “I’m not your possession, Gio. Don’t treat me like one.”
His fingers tightened on my waist, a possessive assertion of his claim. “You are mine, Millie. I protect what’s mine.”
“I don’t mind being protected, but I do mind being imprisoned.” My body turned within the circle of his arms, capturing a glimpse of Harper engaged in a heated exchange with Sebastian. The scene mirrored my own internal struggle.
“Dance with me!” I shouted over the music, a declaration of rebellion and longing.
And dance with me he did. Gio’s movements betrayed a familiarity with this realm, a testament to his experiences beyond the veneer of his usual life. A man of his stature and muscle shouldn’t have been able to move with such effortless grace, yet his every motion flowed harmoniously. His touch remained possessive, a reminder of his claim on me in this chaotic symphony of bodies.
Gio leaned in, his lips brushing against my earlobe as he murmured, “You look fucking hot, Millie. Every man in the club wants you, and I want to kill them all.”
My response was fierce, unyielding. “I’m only yours.” The truth resonated in those words, not just because of the physical token that marked my commitment.
Desire surged between us, raw and urgent. Gio’s lips crashed onto mine, a collision of passion that ignited a storm of sensations. I opened myself to him, surrendering to his consuming kiss, allowing him to claim me amidst the pulsating rhythms and curious gazes of the world.
“I’m so fucking hard,” Gio growled, his arousal pressing against my abdomen. Reality crept back, the weight of responsibilities and obligations settling in once again. “Fuck. I have a call with one of our distributors in five minutes.”
Assurance and understanding mingled in my response. “It’s okay. Come back when you have time. I’m going to grab a drink.”
His gaze bore into mine, a mixture of longing and regret in his eyes. “Go to the VIP area.”
I shook my head, a determination fueled by a wish to embrace normalcy. “I want to pretend I’m an ordinary girl tonight.”
“Nobody who looks at you will think you’re ordinary.” His gaze traced the lines of my body, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. Stepping away, he conceded reluctantly, “Valerio and Dario will keep an eye on you.”
Just as I was about to nod, a familiar face in the VIP area captured my attention. Alyssa-her presence, though seated on another man’s lap, emitted an undercurrent of unresolved emotions. Gio’s eyes followed mine, a curse slipping from his lips. “She’s not here because of me.”
A mix of accusation and understanding filled my voice. “Yes, she is.”
“I can’t throw her out. She comes here to party often. I haven’t seen her since that night. I usually stay in the back.”
The music, the dance, the emotions-it was all a symphony of contradictions, pulling me in different directions. My heart raced, torn between the intoxicating rhythm of the dance and the complex web of relationships that entangled us all.
I acknowledged with a subtle nod, a mixture of emotions constricting my throat. Gio’s fingers delicately held my chin, urging my gaze to lock onto his penetrating eyes. “Millie, there’s only you,” he asserted, a fleeting glance at his watch prompting his withdrawal. “I must go now, but I’ll return as soon as I can.” With determined strides, he navigated through the parted crowd, trailed by Sebastian. Harper slid to my side, her irritation vocalized. “That jerk.”
“Who?” I inquired absentmindedly, my attention caught by Alyssa’s absence from the VIP section.
“Sebastian. Can you believe he had the audacity to command me not to dance with other men? Like he’s my master or something. Screw him.” A pause. “You doing alright?”
“Yeah,” I murmured, my mind elsewhere. The VIP area had swallowed Alyssa.
“Let’s hit the bar,” Harper suggested. Dario and Valerio trailed behind us, but my edginess spurred me to halt and address them. “Could you observe us from a distance? You’re getting under my skin.” Wordlessly, they dispersed, finding corners to keep watch from. I exhaled deeply and perched on a barstool.
I requested two fresh Gin & Tonics and took a deep, soothing sip, attempting to ease my tension. Harper fidgeted beside me. “You can dance, you know,” I encouraged, yet she shook her head, matching her movements to the music’s rhythm. “In a bit. You look pale.”
“I’m fine,” she asserted, while I scanned the club in search of Alyssa, though she appeared to have vanished into thin air amid the dancing masses.
“I could use a few more minutes to sit,” I admitted.
Harper regarded me with concern but eventually excused herself, Valerio discreetly following her steps.
My head rested in my palm as I inhaled slowly. An unexpected jolt collided with my arm, making me start. I recoiled, met by a man with flowing blond locks, leaning against the counter next to me. He reached past me for a straw, his jacket grazing my chest. An instinctive retreat ensued, my gaze averted, discomfort stirring at the intensity of his gaze.
“What’s your name?” he boomed over the music.
I endeavored to ignore him; something about his demeanor raised my unease. Taking a sip from my drink, I pretended to be engrossed in locating someone. Yet, the man persisted in his lecherous scrutiny, an unsavory smile stretching across his unshaven face. “Waiting for someone?” he persisted.
I averted my gaze, striving to downplay the situation. Panicking might attract Dario’s intervention, and he might already be on his way. My vision blurred, and nausea surged through me. Another sip from my glass failed to alleviate it. Attempting to stand, my legs trembled, dizziness threatening to engulf me. Clinging to the counter, I groped for support. Suddenly, his voice rasped near my ear, his breath stinking of stale cigarettes. “I’ll have my way with your body. I’ll make you scream, bitch.” His grip on my arm was suffocating as he endeavored to drag me away from the bar. I glimpsed Dario, striding toward us, his hand positioned beneath his jacket where his weapons lay. Impatient at our slow pace, my assailant enfolded me as if a caring lover assisting his intoxicated partner. “I’ll ravage you like an animal. I’ll reduce you to screams and tears,” he hissed into my ear. Those same words echoed in my memory, not too distantly.
Forcing a semblance of a smile, I managed, “You’re a dead man.”