Adriana's POV
I'm buzzed. That's a lie. I'm drunk.
I finished the last drink Carmelo ordered for me and he completely cut me off afterwards, ordering me a bottle of water, demanding that I drink nearly half of it before I can put it down.
He's so damn bossy and demanding. Yet like an idiot I'm listening to everything he's saying.
A few more people have made it up to the private club that we were in, it's not as dead as when we first came up. We've been up here for a little over half an hour, and every single person that has made it up here is looking just as important as everyone else in the room.
A couple men in fancy suits walk in our direction to talk to Carmelo and every single time someone approaches us his hand is instantly gripping my thigh beside him. He gives every single man one word answers, short, dry, responses and is taking off about a second later, looking in my direction before they're walking off.
"So who are you really, Mr. Matteo?" I asked, crossing my legs, removing his touch away from me.
He quickly looks behind him. He's sitting more forward on the edge of the seat as I sit back, my arms folded in front of me now.
"Carmelo" He smiles.
"The guard called you, Mr. Matteo. Those men," I point over to the one standing by the bar. "Called you Matteo. I'm just following party rules."
He snorts softly, shaking his head.
"So who is Mr. Matteo? What does he do that he has almost every man in here looking in his direction."
Carmelo shrugs his shoulders, reaching for his drink in front of him. He brings it up to his lips, a wide smile on his face. "Maybe they're not coming over here for me. Maybe they want what they can't have, what's mine," his eyes look back at me as he takes a drink.
"What's yours?" I scoff. "What exactly is yours?"
He tilts his drink in my direction, the widest smirk on his face.
"I am not yours," I chortle.
He smiles back, shrugging his shoulders, "not yet at least," he takes another sip of his drink. "But I'll have you eventually, Adriana. One way or another."
My stomach immediately begins to churn. Should I be scared? Creeped out? Turned on? Because I think I'm actually all of the above. It also could be the alcohol in my system right now, I honestly can't remember the last time I drank. If I remember correctly it was with my ex that's for sure.
Carmelo sits back in the lounge chair beside me, looking in my direction. "How long have you been living here?"
I inhale a deep breath trying to find my voice, "almost four months."
He nods quietly. "Why the move?"
"My family wanted a change of scenery," I lied. "What made it so obvious?"
He arches an eyebrow.
"That I'm not from around here."
"You're too beautiful to be from these shitty parks."
"Carmelo," I groan, mentally rolling my eyes. "I'm serious."
He smiles, licking his lips, "it was just a hunch."
"Like the same hunch I have about you not being honest about who you are?"
"I haven't told you who I am," his smile falls back into a smirk.
