My blood was on fire.
“What?” I hissed into my phone, “What did you just fucking say?”
Danial Billow, the fool from the bank that had overseen the building I’d just taken over, went quiet for a moment. “It was authorized from above, Miss Petrenko. There was nothing we could do.”
I choked a chuckle. “How about giving me my fucking money ba—” The deadline was like a slap. I started at the screen for several seconds, just trying to understand.
The deal I’d sealed just days ago had reversed. Even though I had done everything according to plan, it had been done so clean, that it was never supposed to turn on us.
I’d taken over a Sorvino building. Everything was done. Concluded. Finished.
And now this.
My breathing hitched. Everything was too hot, and I saw red everywhere. The fire in my veins made me scream and throw my phone with all my strength, so it went smack on the wall all the way across the room, shattering on impact.
They had something to do with this, no doubt.
I’d boasted about how I could do this to my father. He’d given me the money. He’d given me the order. He’d also thrown me a quizzical look that said perfectly that he didn’t believe me. But I’d held his eye, those cold orbs, and I’d said that I could and would.
I’d given him my word, and now I was left with nothing.
Not even the fucking money he’d given me to seal the deal!
I wanted to punch something. No, that was an understatement. I didn’t just want to punch something. I wanted to scream and beat someone bloody.
Gritting my teeth so hard they could have cracked just to stop myself from aiming my fist at the wall was all I could do. I’d only end up with broken fingers, and nothing would have changed.
At times like this, Paulina was the go-to. Maybe it was because we’d been friends since high school, but she understood me the most. When things like these happened, and I wanted to see everybody go up in flames, she usually knew exactly what I needed.
Tonight, it was the most exclusive lounge in New York.
Samantha drove my hummer, and we all strutted out in our glimmering dresses. Short, tight, black, with heels that could kill a man. My straight blonde hair flowed around me as I led the girls in.
“Miss Petrenko.” The bouncer gave a firm nod as we walked up the steps. There was a long line of people dressed to the teeth, most of them with more than a grand in their pockets to bribe their way to the floor we were heading for.
The bouncer looked away and raised the velvet before his eyes could proceed to roam down my frame. The effort was admirable, he wouldn’t have lived to the end of the week if he’d dared, so I smirked and gave his arm a little caress as I passed.
“Spasibo, moi drug.”
The lowest floor of the building was a club. High-ceilinged, dark, and somehow classy. The Red Place somehow managed to maintain its class despite its clientele.
“Sometimes I think you’re the devil,” Sam confessed as we made our way to the elevator.
We were walking into the foyer, but the thumping of the club’s speakers vibrated everything. I could feel it rattle my ribs. It was down the other way, at the end of a long corridor lined with people flirting, kissing, dry humping.
We were going to the lounge on the top floor, the classiest place to have dinner.
Paulina scoffed. “I heard that one ages ago,” she said, looping her arm with mine. “The devil wearing…what,” she glanced down, “…Versace.”
I laughed.
“No, really, you’d have socked that guy just now if he had looked at you a second longer.”
I’d have done more than that, and if I didn’t go all the way, my father would the moment he caught wind of it.
“You worry too much Samantha,” I said and hit the top floor button. Paulina was staring at her reflection, primping up. Sam noticed her reflection and turned this way and that to check up. I flashed my reflection a smile.
I was the princess of the Petrenko family, and the world was my playground. Throughout the rest of the night, I wouldn’t think about the problem with the bank, but I’d get back to it soon.