Instead of arguing with me, Bentley texted me the address to his penthouse and left it up to me to decide whether I wanted to come over or not. I was hesitant. Because being alone with a man I barely knew was a big no-no. But when it came to Bentley, so many things had me conflicted.
I realized I had forgotten my pocket knife when I got to the elevator. By then, the doors had closed me in, and I was already on my way up. I was sure there was a camera somewhere watching me, so I kept my composure and waited for my stop.
The door chimed and slid open, revealing Bentley standing at his personal bar with no shirt. His body was rippled with muscles and so many tattoos that he looked like a completely different person.
“She came.” He glanced at me while pouring himself a drink. “If I had known you were coming, I would’ve put on a shirt.”
My mouth watered at the sight of him. I had no complaints about him being shirtless. I enjoyed the view.
“This is your home,” I said, walking in nonchalantly. "Quite peculiar, I must say. In a normal penthouse, the elevator leads to a living room, maybe a kitchen. Why an office?”
He downed his shot of brown alcohol on his way over to me. His face contorted a bit at the taste, but even that had no affect on how good looking of a man he was.
“It’s where I spend most of my time,” he said. “No point in getting too comfortable if all you do is work.”
He stood in front of me, flaunting his large pecs, solid arms, and rock hard abs. It was hard to look away from such a gorgeous man. But I was sure he didn’t mind at all. The daring look in his eyes said so.
“Come with me. I’ll show you around.”
I followed him from his luxury home office into a large living room, covered in earthy toned decor. The adjacent kitchen was homey and filled with all the latest gadgets. There was a beautiful staircase that led to a luxurious loft style bedroom, illuminated by soft lights and different shades of green plants.
His home was beautiful. There were large paintings on the concrete walls that looked as though they were handpainted by someone famous. I was surprised to learn that he was the artist. Then again, Bentley was a man of many mysteries, and the rugged style of his penthouse complimented it.
“This is a beautiful home,” I said. “Larger than it needs to be for one person, but very beautiful.”
“Yeah,” he chuckled. “Maybe someday, if I get lucky, I’ll have a family to share it with.”
He walked past me with the bottle of alcohol pressed to his lips. He seemed different behind closed doors. Like he was in a state of reflection or wanted something more out of life. I would have never imagined a billionaire to suffer from depression. But the old saying goes: money can’t buy happiness.
“I would have never taken you for an artist,” I said, getting closer to one of the large paintings propped against the wall. “This is really good. What is it?”
After another swig from the bottle, Bentley made his way over to the corner where I stood with the painting. The area was dim and warm and smelled like his cologne. I could tell the last strokes on the painting were fresh because his scent still lingered strong. I silently wished I could bottle up that portion of the air and take it with me.
“It’s my idea of passion.” He pointed out the curvy body of a woman with a man's strong hands caressing her. “You see how his veins bulge as he touches her? That’s the fire inside him that makes him ready to do whatever it takes to save her. When you love someone, your passion for them is fierce and unwavering. As a man, it burns deep and makes you want to explode if that love is ever threatened.”
His explanation was so poetic. The sound of his voice when he told his tale made me believe every word that fell from his lips. It was even easier to believe because he was an artist. I have an insane obsession for men of the arts. Especially if he looked like Bentley.
"Wow, I never met a poetic gangster,” I teased. “I’m really impressed. You could be the next Tupac. Are you sure you’re not really Tupac and just wearing someone else's skin?”
Bentley laughed and laughed at my joke. I had to laugh too because his was infectious. The way his eyes lit up and his cheeks rose to show his fulfillment made me feel accomplished. It was another genuine moment shared between us. One I didn’t expect to walk into, but I’m glad I did.
“Do you want a glass of champagne?” he asked. “I should have asked a long time ago.”
I was hesitant to take a drink that night, but after finding that note, I needed something to take the edge off.
“Sure. I'll have one. As long as you don’t put anything in it.”
“Ahh,” he slowly nodded. “I’ll do you one better.”
He disappeared into the kitchen while I removed my jacket and sat down on the couch. I loved the openness of his living area. It was intimate because of all the paintings, but still spacious enough to make me want to get closer. When he came back from the kitchen, he had an unopened bottle of champagne and a glass in his hand. Then handed it to me.
“I’ll let you do the honors and pour it yourself.”
I couldn’t help but laugh. I didn’t actually expect him to make me open the bottle on my own, but he insisted that I stay safe. After that, he handed me his iPad with his latest security footage to show me that he was home all night. Never left. Not once.
But there was something else.
Rodger’s car was on the footage. There was a dark figure standing beside it, but I couldn’t tell if it was him. Whoever it was just stood there, glaring in the direction of the lobby doors.Why would Rodger be tailing Bentley?My instincts made me think he was secretly trying to steal my story and apply for the anchor position himself. He didn’t even seem interested in Ivy’s case, so it was strange. Then suddenly, an even stranger thought popped into my head. What if Rodger is working for Bentley!?"Did I leave at all?”Bentley’s voice snapped me back to reality. It was silky and smooth, but still deep and strong. By then, the bubbles from the champagne had made their way into my bloodstream and made me feel just as nice.“Not yet,” I tried to hide my smile. “You are so arrogant, you know?”“I’m arrogant?” He laughed like an almighty king, and I was his peasant. “I don’t think I am. Confident, maybe.”I looked over to him, canvassing his art work as if he were looking for any imperfec
Being in Bentley’s presence gave me a feeling I had never felt before. So, I agreed to one last drink if he agreed to tell me what he knew about Ivy. He insisted he didn't know anything about her, but I knew different. I knew that his company had asked to buy her plant shop a week before she was killed. What I didn't know was why he wanted to hide it.“Tell me about this job of yours,” he said as he refilled our glasses. “Are you on the news or documentaries? Or are you just the information mule?”“Eh,” I wavered. “A little of both. My goal is to become an anchor and eventually start hosting my very own true crime special.”“Ahh, so that’s why you’re working on this story.”“Not entirely. Ivy was an old friend of mine, and we look out for our own around here.”My tone was stern. I wanted to make a statement without having to spell it out to him, and he caught my drift. The police in Westlake weren’t always reliable, and he knew why. His family knew why. We all knew why.“Do you really
“Don’t you touch that door.”I removed my seatbelt as the car came to a halt in my driveway. Bentley gave me a stern look that set me on edge again, but then I realized he was on his way to my side of the car.“A lady never opens her own door.”I held onto his hand and eased my way out. Still a little embarrassed for getting too ahead of myself, I took the walk of shame to my front door. Bentley stayed right behind me, making sure I made every step and didn’t trip over so much as a pebble. It was romantic. Thoughtful. Sweet. Until it wasn’t.“What the hell?” I frowned. “I could have sworn I locked this.”I pushed open my half-shut front door and reached for the lamp. Afraid of what I might find, I kept my eyes on Bentley, who looked more concerned than I felt. Because I was still tipsy, I couldn’t remember if I had left my door open in a hurry or if someone had gone in while I was out. When Bentey realized my dilemma, he jumped straight into action.“I take it you didn’t leave this ope
As promised, my car was sitting in my driveway bright and early the next morning. Right where he said it would be. His guard dogs were still there too, camping out not far away.It felt strange to be guarded so closely by two men I had never met. It was because they were so fiercely loyal to Bentley that they stood watch.My chastity belt loosened a notch that morning. Thinking about how powerful of a man he was seemed to be the key. At the order of a finger or a simple command, he was a ruler. A man everyone feared and steered clear of. But not me. The more I saw of him, the more my feelings changed.“Good morning.” He sounded cheery when he called.“Morning.” I blushed so hard my voice drifted away.“Did your car get there in one piece?”“It did. Thank you.”I was so bashful it made me gag. He didn’t have to try hard either. Bentley had a way of making me smile even when I didn’t want to.“What are your plans for the day?” he asked. “I’ll be stuck in a business meeting with some gru
Ivy was with a friend the night she was murdered.The woman who flagged down an officer when the crowd commenced outside of Club Lure. My goal was to find her so that we could retrace their steps that night, but she was like a ghost in Westlake. So much so, I thought she may have vanished because she was afraid she’d be next. Or she left because she was the one who was guilty.The flirtation that went on between Bentley and me made me reconsider a lot of things. I still thought he was involved somehow, or knew who was, but my suspicions started to shift from one person to the next.When I got to work that morning, I skipped my office and went straight to Rodger’s. He was sitting behind his desk with his earphones in per usual. I thought he’d be great company to take on my journey of finding witnesses for the day. I also wanted to figure out why his car was seen on the cameras outside of Bentley’s penthouse.“What’s up, buttercup?” He smiled and removed his earphones the minute I walke
I made a list, and I checked it twice. I was going to find out who was naughty or nice.The footage on the SD card Bentley gave me came in handy. I jotted down the names of people I knew and the people who looked like they might be able to tell me something. Our first stop was a woman named Silvia. From the information I gathered, she was a bottle girl at Club Lure and had served Ivy and her friend a shot or two.I was sure she would say she didn't know anything because all she did was serve drinks, but I was after any information she could lend. The smallest detail or the slightest memory could move mountains when you least expected.The ring camera chimed as Rodger and I approached her front door. He looked anxious when he saw the camera. Tiny beads of sweat sprouted across his forehead, and I zoned in like a microscope.“You okay?” I asked.“Yeah. Yeah. I’m fine.” He shifted his weight from one foot to the next. “I always get anxious when I get ready to ask questions.”“Well, it’s
Past patterns can tell you a lot about someone’s future. At least that’s what I was taught to believe.Bentley challenged that belief of mine. He pushed barriers that I thought were unmovable. He raised emotions in me that I thought were dead. His lure was silent. It was irresistible. Most of all, it was deadly.“Hey Justine, how’s it going?”“It’ll be going well if you can help me out with this case.”I called Detective Mickey Turner after Rodger and I finished our footwork for the day. She was a family friend and a great source of information whenever I needed it. Since she’d had interactions with Bentley and kept a close eye on him, I reached out to her to ask about his statement.“Ivy Smith, huh? I can’t imagine what her parents are going through after all this.”“They’re taking this really hard,” I said. “Which is why I wanna make sure I get every bit of information I can. They deserve to know, and I know there’s something deeper going on here.”I let myself into my home and toss
“I don’t know why I let you drag me out tonight. I hate clubs.”"Oh, stop complaining, Rodger. Once you get a few drinks in your system, you’ll be just fine.”Rodger griped from the time I picked him up until the time we got inside the club. All of that changed when we were greeted by a couple of bottle girls who were already expecting me. At first, they side-eyed Rodger. But everything was cool once I let them know he was with me.When we got to the section Bentley had waiting for me, there was a chilled bottle of champagne in a bucket of ice. A bouquet of flowers, a gift bag, and a note from him. Rodger wasn’t happy to see me being pampered by another man, but he ignored it when one of the girls made eye contact with him.“Ooo, someone’s getting some attention.” I teased.“Yeah. Right,” he blushed. “You’re lucky I like you. I never come to clubs.”I believed him. As nerdy and uptight as Rodger was most days, I couldn't imagine him being in a crowded room full of sweaty people who we
“I don’t know why I let you drag me out tonight. I hate clubs.”"Oh, stop complaining, Rodger. Once you get a few drinks in your system, you’ll be just fine.”Rodger griped from the time I picked him up until the time we got inside the club. All of that changed when we were greeted by a couple of bottle girls who were already expecting me. At first, they side-eyed Rodger. But everything was cool once I let them know he was with me.When we got to the section Bentley had waiting for me, there was a chilled bottle of champagne in a bucket of ice. A bouquet of flowers, a gift bag, and a note from him. Rodger wasn’t happy to see me being pampered by another man, but he ignored it when one of the girls made eye contact with him.“Ooo, someone’s getting some attention.” I teased.“Yeah. Right,” he blushed. “You’re lucky I like you. I never come to clubs.”I believed him. As nerdy and uptight as Rodger was most days, I couldn't imagine him being in a crowded room full of sweaty people who we
Past patterns can tell you a lot about someone’s future. At least that’s what I was taught to believe.Bentley challenged that belief of mine. He pushed barriers that I thought were unmovable. He raised emotions in me that I thought were dead. His lure was silent. It was irresistible. Most of all, it was deadly.“Hey Justine, how’s it going?”“It’ll be going well if you can help me out with this case.”I called Detective Mickey Turner after Rodger and I finished our footwork for the day. She was a family friend and a great source of information whenever I needed it. Since she’d had interactions with Bentley and kept a close eye on him, I reached out to her to ask about his statement.“Ivy Smith, huh? I can’t imagine what her parents are going through after all this.”“They’re taking this really hard,” I said. “Which is why I wanna make sure I get every bit of information I can. They deserve to know, and I know there’s something deeper going on here.”I let myself into my home and toss
I made a list, and I checked it twice. I was going to find out who was naughty or nice.The footage on the SD card Bentley gave me came in handy. I jotted down the names of people I knew and the people who looked like they might be able to tell me something. Our first stop was a woman named Silvia. From the information I gathered, she was a bottle girl at Club Lure and had served Ivy and her friend a shot or two.I was sure she would say she didn't know anything because all she did was serve drinks, but I was after any information she could lend. The smallest detail or the slightest memory could move mountains when you least expected.The ring camera chimed as Rodger and I approached her front door. He looked anxious when he saw the camera. Tiny beads of sweat sprouted across his forehead, and I zoned in like a microscope.“You okay?” I asked.“Yeah. Yeah. I’m fine.” He shifted his weight from one foot to the next. “I always get anxious when I get ready to ask questions.”“Well, it’s
Ivy was with a friend the night she was murdered.The woman who flagged down an officer when the crowd commenced outside of Club Lure. My goal was to find her so that we could retrace their steps that night, but she was like a ghost in Westlake. So much so, I thought she may have vanished because she was afraid she’d be next. Or she left because she was the one who was guilty.The flirtation that went on between Bentley and me made me reconsider a lot of things. I still thought he was involved somehow, or knew who was, but my suspicions started to shift from one person to the next.When I got to work that morning, I skipped my office and went straight to Rodger’s. He was sitting behind his desk with his earphones in per usual. I thought he’d be great company to take on my journey of finding witnesses for the day. I also wanted to figure out why his car was seen on the cameras outside of Bentley’s penthouse.“What’s up, buttercup?” He smiled and removed his earphones the minute I walke
As promised, my car was sitting in my driveway bright and early the next morning. Right where he said it would be. His guard dogs were still there too, camping out not far away.It felt strange to be guarded so closely by two men I had never met. It was because they were so fiercely loyal to Bentley that they stood watch.My chastity belt loosened a notch that morning. Thinking about how powerful of a man he was seemed to be the key. At the order of a finger or a simple command, he was a ruler. A man everyone feared and steered clear of. But not me. The more I saw of him, the more my feelings changed.“Good morning.” He sounded cheery when he called.“Morning.” I blushed so hard my voice drifted away.“Did your car get there in one piece?”“It did. Thank you.”I was so bashful it made me gag. He didn’t have to try hard either. Bentley had a way of making me smile even when I didn’t want to.“What are your plans for the day?” he asked. “I’ll be stuck in a business meeting with some gru
“Don’t you touch that door.”I removed my seatbelt as the car came to a halt in my driveway. Bentley gave me a stern look that set me on edge again, but then I realized he was on his way to my side of the car.“A lady never opens her own door.”I held onto his hand and eased my way out. Still a little embarrassed for getting too ahead of myself, I took the walk of shame to my front door. Bentley stayed right behind me, making sure I made every step and didn’t trip over so much as a pebble. It was romantic. Thoughtful. Sweet. Until it wasn’t.“What the hell?” I frowned. “I could have sworn I locked this.”I pushed open my half-shut front door and reached for the lamp. Afraid of what I might find, I kept my eyes on Bentley, who looked more concerned than I felt. Because I was still tipsy, I couldn’t remember if I had left my door open in a hurry or if someone had gone in while I was out. When Bentey realized my dilemma, he jumped straight into action.“I take it you didn’t leave this ope
Being in Bentley’s presence gave me a feeling I had never felt before. So, I agreed to one last drink if he agreed to tell me what he knew about Ivy. He insisted he didn't know anything about her, but I knew different. I knew that his company had asked to buy her plant shop a week before she was killed. What I didn't know was why he wanted to hide it.“Tell me about this job of yours,” he said as he refilled our glasses. “Are you on the news or documentaries? Or are you just the information mule?”“Eh,” I wavered. “A little of both. My goal is to become an anchor and eventually start hosting my very own true crime special.”“Ahh, so that’s why you’re working on this story.”“Not entirely. Ivy was an old friend of mine, and we look out for our own around here.”My tone was stern. I wanted to make a statement without having to spell it out to him, and he caught my drift. The police in Westlake weren’t always reliable, and he knew why. His family knew why. We all knew why.“Do you really
Rodger’s car was on the footage. There was a dark figure standing beside it, but I couldn’t tell if it was him. Whoever it was just stood there, glaring in the direction of the lobby doors.Why would Rodger be tailing Bentley?My instincts made me think he was secretly trying to steal my story and apply for the anchor position himself. He didn’t even seem interested in Ivy’s case, so it was strange. Then suddenly, an even stranger thought popped into my head. What if Rodger is working for Bentley!?"Did I leave at all?”Bentley’s voice snapped me back to reality. It was silky and smooth, but still deep and strong. By then, the bubbles from the champagne had made their way into my bloodstream and made me feel just as nice.“Not yet,” I tried to hide my smile. “You are so arrogant, you know?”“I’m arrogant?” He laughed like an almighty king, and I was his peasant. “I don’t think I am. Confident, maybe.”I looked over to him, canvassing his art work as if he were looking for any imperfec
Instead of arguing with me, Bentley texted me the address to his penthouse and left it up to me to decide whether I wanted to come over or not. I was hesitant. Because being alone with a man I barely knew was a big no-no. But when it came to Bentley, so many things had me conflicted.I realized I had forgotten my pocket knife when I got to the elevator. By then, the doors had closed me in, and I was already on my way up. I was sure there was a camera somewhere watching me, so I kept my composure and waited for my stop.The door chimed and slid open, revealing Bentley standing at his personal bar with no shirt. His body was rippled with muscles and so many tattoos that he looked like a completely different person.“She came.” He glanced at me while pouring himself a drink. “If I had known you were coming, I would’ve put on a shirt.”My mouth watered at the sight of him. I had no complaints about him being shirtless. I enjoyed the view.“This is your home,” I said, walking in nonchalant