“Maybe I should hire you as my bodyguard since you’re clearly so bent on keeping me safe.” He jokes, continuing to trace the lines in my hand with his fingers. I breathe a laugh. When I thought we could survive by the contents in my purse, I didn’t know it meant I’d be using it as a weapon.
The hotel is exactlyas I saw it online— on the shores of sparkling blue waters and cobblestone streets scattered with fiery glass lamp posts. I'm living a dream I’ll never be able to have while asleep. It’s magical. I gaped the entire walk up the steps to the entrance.
While Vince did seem impressed, he was far more entertained by my reaction to it all. “I really need to take you on more business trips.” He’d jested with me as we checked in.
Now we're on our way up to the penthouse that apparently has almost a 360 view of the ocean. This is entirely too exciting for a city girl like me. I’ve never been outside my little bubble. My parents used to tell my brothers and me about the world and how we’d travel as a family one day. Something we never got to do.
I shake my head, physically taking my mind away from any pain that could distract me from the joy of being here. The elevator comes to a stop, and the door opens with a ding.
Security floods out first, searching every inch of the place before we are allowed in it alone. I become aware of my hand still attached to his, our fingers in a tight lace. Couple shit. I clench my teeth. This is some joke he’s playing.
Either I quit, or I talk to him about it. Both options seem equally awkward, but maybe he’s feeling just an ounce of what I am for him and would take pity on me for opening up. It’s worth a shot. I decide that the moment these guards leave, I’ll speak with him.
I try to distract myself, for now, looking out at the floor-to-ceiling windows spanning the entirety of the back wall. To the left is our own personal bar and kitchen, and to the right, a lounge room and stairs leading up to the top part of the loft. It’s an incredibly breathtaking view inside and out.
“Clear,” one of the guards confirms, and they all flood back to the foyer.
“We have extra security for Ms. Lee while you’re away. Petrova will take you to the car, and the rest of our boys will be with you for your meeting.” Though it seemed the guard was giving orders, he paused, waiting for the boss to give the final verdict. My mind is immediately flooded with questions as to why he will need triple the security that Vince normally has. It can’t be because of me.
I furrow my brows and tense my jaw, trying to look as if I don't understand, but I do now. Something is awry in the gang world, and Vince is here to do something about it. There’s no other explanation. He’s a powerful man, but there’s no reality where he would need this much security detail unless he was going somewhere that threatened his life. The thought of that makes me sick to my stomach.
Will he be gone the entire trip?
I knew he would be busy, but I thought we’d have some time alone. How am I supposed to get any intel if I’m locked away in this suite for the length of the trip? I look between them as Vince nods in agreement and follows the men to the elevator without looking back.
The guards who remain are frozen statues of inhuman muscle mass, and I don’t think I’ll be getting much interaction out of them, so I head to the loft around the backside of the penthouse. There’s a door to another bedroom just under the stairs, but I’m sure Vince will want something that’s not open to the rest of the penthouse, so I leave that for him without even looking in it.
Thankfully, there’s a tv upstairs right at the end of a king-sized bed. I run and flop on it like a kid, but I feel completely free, so who cares how embarrassing I am? I find the remote on the bedside table, and I quickly figure out how to use it. Unfortunately, the only English Channel that’s free is a marathon of 90s rom-coms.
I truly detest rom-coms. I know. It’s a sin. Maybe it isn’t so much the movies or the unrealistically good-looking people they try to pass as your every-day-average-Joe’s… I think it’s more the idea that life could be so perfectly, predictably happy.
So, I choose a Latin game show channel, order a room service breakfast of Eggs Benedict, and curl up under the covers with the intention to remain here for the rest of the day.