Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 57287 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 286(@200wpm)___ 229(@250wpm)___ 191(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 57287 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 286(@200wpm)___ 229(@250wpm)___ 191(@300wpm)
But these security rounds were their own kind of torture. No matter which route I took, I kept finding myself drawn to the security feed from her room. She was there again, like every night— one hand against the glass, eyes fixed on a sky she couldn't see through our flood lights. Her sweater had slipped off her shoulder, hair falling in waves instead of that perfect mask she usually wore like armor.
I should've walked away. Should've gotten my ass back to my office, buried myself in the headache of profit margins and contractor bullshit. Pretty girls with dangerous minds weren't my game—I dealt in simple pleasures at my club, the kind that ended when the sun came up and everyone went home happy.
But I caught myself watching how her fingers moved across the damn glass, tracing patterns in a sky too bright with security lights to show any stars. Hell, it dug up memories I usually kept buried: those nights spent on my father's bar roof, mapping constellations and swearing I'd make something of myself. At least back then, I could actually see the stars.
Before I could talk myself out of it, I was heading to Giuliano's study. Bad idea? Probably. But I'd built my empire on calculated risks and knowing exactly what strings to pull.
"Absolutely not." Giuliano didn't look up from his paperwork.
"Just hear me out," I said, settling on the edge of his desk because I knew it drove him crazy—old habits die hard and all that. "Look, we've got the whole private beach locked down with clear sight lines and multiple vantage points. I'm talking two hours, tops."
"Since when do you volunteer for guard duty?" His eyes were sharp enough to cut glass. "Unless... ah. I see."
"Think about it strategically," I pressed, switching to the voice I used to convince investors to back my first club. "Three weeks she's been here. No escape attempts, no contact with Vittorio. Hell, she's given us more intel on his operation than we've gotten in years."
"And?"
"And she's an asset, you said it yourself. That mind for business, everything she knows about Vittorio's empire? We need to protect that. But if we keep her caged up just like he did..." I leaned forward, dropping my voice. "You want her real cooperation? Then we need to show her we're different. Give her something that bastard never would."
"She's still leverage," Giuliano reminded me, but I caught the slight shift in his tone.
"Exactly. And what's more valuable—a hostage who hates us, or an ally who trusts us?"
"Since when did you become an expert on trust?" He leaned back, studying me like I was one of his security risks. "I've seen how you watch her in meetings. The way you linger after delivering reports. She's not one of your club conquests, Costa."
The accusation stung, probably because he wasn't entirely wrong. I'd built my reputation on reading people, on knowing precisely what they wanted before they did. But Pearl? She was something else entirely.
"You think that's what this is?" I kept my voice steady despite the anger building in my chest. "Christ, Giuliano, have you seen her up there every night? Staring at stars she can barely see through our security lights? We're no better than him if we-"
"Careful." His voice went quiet. Dangerous. "Don't compare us to Vittorio."
"Then why not prove it? Why don't we let her see we're different?" I met his gaze steadily. "Give her small freedoms, keep it controlled, show her she's more than just leverage to us."
The muscle in his jaw ticked, and I waited through the longest damn silence of my life until he finally sighed. "The beach for two hours," he said, his eyes hardening as he looked at me. "And Enzo? Don't forget what's at stake here."
I found myself standing at her door, heart pounding like some nervous kid at his first club. Fucking ridiculous. I'd talked my way into and out of more beds than I could count, charmed every type of woman there was, but here I was getting worked up over knocking on a goddamn door.
When she opened it, every smooth line I'd practiced went right out the window. She looked different here in the quiet—softer somehow, stripped of all that careful control she usually wore like armor, just loose waves falling around her face and some sweater that shouldn't have been sexy but was. But it was those eyes that really got me, the way they studied me like she was trying to figure out if I was a threat or maybe something else entirely.
"Enzo?" The way she said my name shouldn't have affected me like that. "I thought you were at the club."
"Change of plans." I tried for my usual swagger but probably missed by a mile. "Got a proposition for you."
She raised an eyebrow. "Should I be worried?"