I’m seated on the edge of the bed, wrapped in a silk robe—an expensive one, no doubt. I can tell from the way it feels against my skin, not that it matters when I’m trembling like a leaf. Beneath the robe is the red two-piece lingerie he insisted I wear. The thing is, this whole set—it’s sexy. It should make me feel sexy, but not in this situation. Instead, I feel cold. The fabric clings to my skin in a way that’s both flattering and revealing, but I can’t bring myself to appreciate any of that. My heart is pounding so violently that it drowns out any rational thought.
I keep asking myself why I’m here, why I didn’t just say no when he commanded me to come. I know he called Luca again and gave him specific instructions to bring me here. And knowing Luca, he wouldn’t have let me walk away, but still, I could’ve said no the first time he made that absurd request on the call. I could’ve thought of something&
"What?” I ask, completely thrown off. “But you…”“The offer expired a long time ago,” he cuts me off, his tone flat.I’m confused. This is what he wanted. He even threatened me and got really pissed just because I said no. Everything that has happened between us was because he so desperately wanted me to be his mistress. And sure, he did promise to leave me alone after his former mistress, Mia, returned, but we all know that didn’t last long. I mean, he did demand I come here and dress up in this stupid lingerie for him, only for him to turn around and tell me the offer expired? What the hell?I feel a bit embarrassed, if I’m being honest, and genuinely pissed. I quickly reach for the robe on the floor and pull it on, tying it tightly around my waist.“Then why did you have me come here and wear this if you didn’t even want me?” I ask, trying to hide the edge in my voice.&ldq
"Are you okay?” he asks. I nod, only to realize he can't see me over the phone.“Yes, did you get back safe?”“Yes.”I’m on the phone with Raul while walking out of the hotel for my meeting. The art curator I’m meeting was a connection from the masquerade ball exhibitioner, and if this deal goes through, it could be a huge step toward getting more exposure for my work. But Raul’s voice pulls me out of my thoughts as I wait for my Uber.“Have you thought about what we discussed?” he asks, his tone clipped, as if he’s running out of patience.I sigh, knowing exactly what he’s referring to. I did think about it. I even went ahead and tried it, but it turned out to be a huge disappointment.“Alessandro changed his mind,” I say, hearing Raul mutter something under his breath, like he can’t believe it.“What do you mean he changed his mind?&rdquo
The meeting went well, and I have to say, with everything that’s been going on in my life—how it feels like I’ve been stuck in most of the things I’ve been trying to achieve—this small win is something I definitely needed. She saw my work and said she loved it. She even suggested I display a few pieces at the museum and promised to get me invites to every art and photography show she hears of. I was over the moon when she told me that.Bella and I are headed out to check the apartment she was excited about. Meanwhile, I’m still thinking about how I turned down Maria’s request. I told her a lie—I said my camera equipment had a technical issue and that I’d need to wait a while for repairs. The thing is, if she had called me a week ago, or even a couple of days ago, I might have considered it because, let’s be honest, I do need the money. But after what happened between Alessandro and me last night, there’s no way
I walk to the restaurant entrance, and I have to admit, it is fancy, alright. The moment an attendant at the door offers to take my coat and gives me a ticket for it, I know without a doubt that this place is upscale. Definitely a good sign that I might not hate this date. When I asked Michael for an idea of what kind of date it would be so I would know what to wear, he said I should dress fancy, and honestly, it feels good to dress up every once in a while for something like this. I’m dressed in a black bandage dress that accentuates my curves perfectly, paired with golden strappy heels that match my purse and jewelry. Bella helped with my makeup because she’s pretty good at it. I didn’t want to go all out and give an impression I don’t intend to give.“I’m here for a reservation made by Mr. Cisse,” I tell the attendant, who nods and gestures for me to follow a woman dressed in a black skirt suit. The inside of the restaurant is even more impressive than it looked from the outside. W
"Renee!” Michael’s voice booms through the kitchen, snapping me back to reality. I jump and start taking slow, steady steps backward.I look at him, trying to hide the shock on my face. He lets out a humorless chuckle, shaking his head.“What did you do?” I ask, my throat dry and my voice barely above a whisper.“Can you believe these racist assholes?”“What?” I ask, confused by his words.“They intentionally delayed your meal because—get this—you’re a different shade from them, and they don’t serve people who look like you. Racist bastards.”The words hang in the air, and a chill runs down my spine. For a moment, I can’t even process how I feel. Racist? I hadn’t even considered that, but now the tension in the kitchen feels even more suffocating.Being treated differently because of the color of my skin wasn’t something I experienced much growing up. In fact, people often thought I was prettier or placed me on a pedestal because of it. When I moved here, the experience was different,
He has his trademark toothpick perched between his lips, and for the life of me, I don’t know why anyone would think walking around with a toothpick in their mouth is cool or even gangster. It’s just weird. His demeanor is calm, but the slight crease on his forehead is a clear indication of how dangerous he can be. I hate to admit it, but the sight of Mateo being here brings a wave of relief. As much as I despise the situation, I’d choose someone like Mateo over a stranger who pretended to be a good guy by taking me on a date. I don’t know Mateo well, but the fact that he works for Alessandro makes him the closest thing I have to protection right now.Michael’s grip on my wrist loosens as he turns, his eyes narrowing at Mateo.“Mind your own business,” he snaps, trying to sound confident, but the slight waver in his voice betrays his unease.Mateo smirks, casually flipping the toothpick between his fingers.&ldquo
I’m sitting on the floor of our new apartment, sorting through clothes and sipping wine. Bella is sprawled out on the bed, her legs hanging off the side as she types furiously on her phone. The apartment is mostly bare, apart from two beds in each of our rooms and a few things Bella brought from home. We moved in a couple of days ago, and even though the movers did most of the heavy lifting, I hated how they arranged my clothes. So here I am, trying to fix it while Bella keeps me company. We decided to move into the apartment despite Dell's role in helping us get it. We love it and didn’t want to start searching for a new one.“Okay, I know the restaurant staff being racist was a bit of a stretch,” I start, folding another shirt, “but Michael’s reaction was completely uncalled for. And now that I know he knew my father? I just don’t get it. Is that why he approached me in the first place? Because he knew who I was?” The events o
I watch as the rain comes down in sheets, battering against the windows, blurring the world beyond. Had this been a different scene, I would say it was beautiful, but that's far from the case. Inside the villa, everything is chaos. The room is a mess—furniture overturned, glass scattered across the floor, and something red that shouldn’t be there, is spread across the marble like a warning. I step over it, barely feeling the cold seep into my shoes.My hands are shaking and I can’t breathe. I can’t think. I’m frozen, trapped in this moment that feels like it’s dragging on forever. I can hear his breathing, heavy and sharp. He is standing in the center of the room, a shadow of the man I thought I knew. His eyes are wild, watching my hand that's gripping a gun I never thought I would hold, and I’m shaking—terrified of what’s happening, terrified of what I’ve done.“Renée,” he says, his voice breaking through the silence like a razor. I can’t tell if it’s anger or desperation. Maybe both
I’m sitting on the floor of our new apartment, sorting through clothes and sipping wine. Bella is sprawled out on the bed, her legs hanging off the side as she types furiously on her phone. The apartment is mostly bare, apart from two beds in each of our rooms and a few things Bella brought from home. We moved in a couple of days ago, and even though the movers did most of the heavy lifting, I hated how they arranged my clothes. So here I am, trying to fix it while Bella keeps me company. We decided to move into the apartment despite Dell's role in helping us get it. We love it and didn’t want to start searching for a new one.“Okay, I know the restaurant staff being racist was a bit of a stretch,” I start, folding another shirt, “but Michael’s reaction was completely uncalled for. And now that I know he knew my father? I just don’t get it. Is that why he approached me in the first place? Because he knew who I was?” The events o
He has his trademark toothpick perched between his lips, and for the life of me, I don’t know why anyone would think walking around with a toothpick in their mouth is cool or even gangster. It’s just weird. His demeanor is calm, but the slight crease on his forehead is a clear indication of how dangerous he can be. I hate to admit it, but the sight of Mateo being here brings a wave of relief. As much as I despise the situation, I’d choose someone like Mateo over a stranger who pretended to be a good guy by taking me on a date. I don’t know Mateo well, but the fact that he works for Alessandro makes him the closest thing I have to protection right now.Michael’s grip on my wrist loosens as he turns, his eyes narrowing at Mateo.“Mind your own business,” he snaps, trying to sound confident, but the slight waver in his voice betrays his unease.Mateo smirks, casually flipping the toothpick between his fingers.&ldquo
"Renee!” Michael’s voice booms through the kitchen, snapping me back to reality. I jump and start taking slow, steady steps backward.I look at him, trying to hide the shock on my face. He lets out a humorless chuckle, shaking his head.“What did you do?” I ask, my throat dry and my voice barely above a whisper.“Can you believe these racist assholes?”“What?” I ask, confused by his words.“They intentionally delayed your meal because—get this—you’re a different shade from them, and they don’t serve people who look like you. Racist bastards.”The words hang in the air, and a chill runs down my spine. For a moment, I can’t even process how I feel. Racist? I hadn’t even considered that, but now the tension in the kitchen feels even more suffocating.Being treated differently because of the color of my skin wasn’t something I experienced much growing up. In fact, people often thought I was prettier or placed me on a pedestal because of it. When I moved here, the experience was different,
I walk to the restaurant entrance, and I have to admit, it is fancy, alright. The moment an attendant at the door offers to take my coat and gives me a ticket for it, I know without a doubt that this place is upscale. Definitely a good sign that I might not hate this date. When I asked Michael for an idea of what kind of date it would be so I would know what to wear, he said I should dress fancy, and honestly, it feels good to dress up every once in a while for something like this. I’m dressed in a black bandage dress that accentuates my curves perfectly, paired with golden strappy heels that match my purse and jewelry. Bella helped with my makeup because she’s pretty good at it. I didn’t want to go all out and give an impression I don’t intend to give.“I’m here for a reservation made by Mr. Cisse,” I tell the attendant, who nods and gestures for me to follow a woman dressed in a black skirt suit. The inside of the restaurant is even more impressive than it looked from the outside. W
The meeting went well, and I have to say, with everything that’s been going on in my life—how it feels like I’ve been stuck in most of the things I’ve been trying to achieve—this small win is something I definitely needed. She saw my work and said she loved it. She even suggested I display a few pieces at the museum and promised to get me invites to every art and photography show she hears of. I was over the moon when she told me that.Bella and I are headed out to check the apartment she was excited about. Meanwhile, I’m still thinking about how I turned down Maria’s request. I told her a lie—I said my camera equipment had a technical issue and that I’d need to wait a while for repairs. The thing is, if she had called me a week ago, or even a couple of days ago, I might have considered it because, let’s be honest, I do need the money. But after what happened between Alessandro and me last night, there’s no way
"Are you okay?” he asks. I nod, only to realize he can't see me over the phone.“Yes, did you get back safe?”“Yes.”I’m on the phone with Raul while walking out of the hotel for my meeting. The art curator I’m meeting was a connection from the masquerade ball exhibitioner, and if this deal goes through, it could be a huge step toward getting more exposure for my work. But Raul’s voice pulls me out of my thoughts as I wait for my Uber.“Have you thought about what we discussed?” he asks, his tone clipped, as if he’s running out of patience.I sigh, knowing exactly what he’s referring to. I did think about it. I even went ahead and tried it, but it turned out to be a huge disappointment.“Alessandro changed his mind,” I say, hearing Raul mutter something under his breath, like he can’t believe it.“What do you mean he changed his mind?&rdquo
"What?” I ask, completely thrown off. “But you…”“The offer expired a long time ago,” he cuts me off, his tone flat.I’m confused. This is what he wanted. He even threatened me and got really pissed just because I said no. Everything that has happened between us was because he so desperately wanted me to be his mistress. And sure, he did promise to leave me alone after his former mistress, Mia, returned, but we all know that didn’t last long. I mean, he did demand I come here and dress up in this stupid lingerie for him, only for him to turn around and tell me the offer expired? What the hell?I feel a bit embarrassed, if I’m being honest, and genuinely pissed. I quickly reach for the robe on the floor and pull it on, tying it tightly around my waist.“Then why did you have me come here and wear this if you didn’t even want me?” I ask, trying to hide the edge in my voice.&ldq
I’m seated on the edge of the bed, wrapped in a silk robe—an expensive one, no doubt. I can tell from the way it feels against my skin, not that it matters when I’m trembling like a leaf. Beneath the robe is the red two-piece lingerie he insisted I wear. The thing is, this whole set—it’s sexy. It should make me feel sexy, but not in this situation. Instead, I feel cold. The fabric clings to my skin in a way that’s both flattering and revealing, but I can’t bring myself to appreciate any of that. My heart is pounding so violently that it drowns out any rational thought.I keep asking myself why I’m here, why I didn’t just say no when he commanded me to come. I know he called Luca again and gave him specific instructions to bring me here. And knowing Luca, he wouldn’t have let me walk away, but still, I could’ve said no the first time he made that absurd request on the call. I could’ve thought of something&
I check the notification on my phone and sigh in relief. Eleonora has just sent my payment in full. I don’t even think she looked at all the photos before sending it. I spent all day working on them and made sure to send them for her approval. I slip the phone into the back pocket of my pants and take a deep breath before walking into the club. The Velvet Room is a fancy place that reeks of money and secrets.After what felt like hours of bargaining with myself, I finally made a decision—one I’m probably going to regret, but what the hell? I’m trying to convince myself that this is the right thing to do, or at least the only option I have left. Raul left earlier in the evening. He said that since he had basically been kidnapped, he hadn’t informed his fiancée that he was out of town, so he needed to go back and check in on her, plus he had to report back to work tomorrow. He told me that whatever decision I made, he would support me and ke