Opus Dei

Three

I stare at him trying to blink away the image in front of me. What is this man doing here, saying things like that to me? Is he even here or is the alcohol in my system projecting images of things that were in my mind? His presence consumes my whole being making it hard to properly inhale and exhale, it's like his eyes have the ability to erase everything around me besides him, like it's all black except for himself.

"You were much more communicative on our first encounter, what is wrong with you, love? Cat got your tongue?" With each word he says he makes one step closer to me and by the time the word "tongue" rolls out of his mouth I feel his breath in my ear, having the same effect on me as it did before.

I tell myself it is the alcohol making me this lightheaded and I raise my head so that our eyes meet, before speaking as sharp as he did seconds ago, "I just don't understand what are you doing here, much less why you arm is wrapped around my waist. For a serious business man like you I find this highly inappropriate."

I step back slightly which causes his hand to slide down, landing on my hip. I erupt in goose bumps.

"Come with me." I know it's a challenge as soon as his eyes darken and he raises one eyebrow expectantly.

"Why would I leave with you? I don't even know you." I want to leave with him so badly, I want to go straight to hell and sin with him every day for the rest of my life. But as good as he makes me feel even with just looking at me, as handsome as he is, he is also some weird mob serial killer money laundering bastard, so I must stay away. I might like a little adrenaline, and all my life I've craved for a love so dangerous and so powerful that it inspires the whole world but this... this is too much.

" I-I...I don't even know you, you can't command me around. Plus, I came here with Kendall and Hailey, I'm not just going to leave them here because you decided to stalk me here and tell me what to do. I think it's you who should leave, by yourself, and not come back around me ever again." I say again, after I've gathered some of my composure.

"Miss, here's the thing. You've accused me of something highly dangerous and it has been in my mind ever since. I am going to show you something, not murder you, at least not tonight. Come with me." He takes a few steps back, extending his hand out for me to take it.

How did we go from love to miss, again? Murder me? I should scream, or at least slap him or even get scared but somehow I am not afraid of him, not in the way I should be anyway.  I must say I am really curious to see how in the world he could prove me that he's not laundering money. But why bother to prove me anything? I saw the way people step back and bend their heads down when he walks by. Why would a man like that want to prove anything to little old me? He doesn't care about what people think and he is dirty, that I am sure of.

In an adrenaline rush I put my hand in his. He intertwines our fingers and the goose bumps appear again, but this time I ignore them — choosing to let my inner 007 see what's up with this piece of danger.

We exit through the back of the club and into a small alley where two Aventadors are parked, a black one and a white one.

"How did you know how to get here? The... the back exit I mean, you've been here before?"  And why are there two cars here? Are you here with someone? I want to say but decide against it.

"I own the place." He shrugs gazing at me briefly before opening the passenger door for me. "The other Lambo belongs to a friend of mine." What the hell?! Is he a mind reader now?

I decide to ignore this new piece of information and get into the car. There's no point in describing the interior of a Lamborghini Aventador but what is more enchanting than that is the smell. This car smells like mint, leather, and his perfume and suddenly I find myself hoping this ride will take longer.