Angel's Mafia (gxg) ✓

VIII | A Casual Encounter

I FREEZE.

Violetta turns around in an instant, her hand at her waist―going for a gun, I realize. But the moment she sees the man, she relaxes.

"Dominic," she breathes, melting into him in a warm embrace.

He seems to understand that if Violetta trusts me, I'm not a threat. He holsters his gun and wraps his arms around her. For a moment, I'm caught in a tangle of something like―

No, it doesn't matter to me that Violetta has a boyfriend, or a partner, or anything. I don't care. She's a stranger, someone I made a deal with. All I have to do is help her, and she'll pay me.

Then why do I feel so sick?

A hot match of fire is alight in my stomach as Violetta turns back to me. I wrangle a smile onto my face. Nothing to look at here. Nothing is wrong.

"Can we go now?" I can't stop the impatience from seeping into my voice. I don't want to be here, and the frantic pulse of my heartbeat is dragging me into a state of panic. We can't get caught. Not now. Not here.

I didn't see before, but Dante has brought a cart with him, something that looks like it's meant to carry luggage. Or stolen artwork. Laying on top of it, there are three orange vests.

Three neon orange vests. Worker clothes.

"What . . . are those for?" I ask. I have a feeling I'm not going to like it.

Dominic's eyes burn into my face, a withering stare. "To eat."

Violetta grins. "Shut up, Dominic. Without her, we wouldn't have known what to steal." To me, she says, "This is how we get out. Nobody wants to confront someone who works here."

"But look at us. We're wearing dresses. We look like we're guests."

Dominic's smile is more of a sneer. "Don't you think I know that?" And he pulls out two more black uniforms, similar to what he's wearing.

"Are you telling me we have to change?" I can hear the note of panic in my voice. "Here? Now?"

Violetta gives me a warm grin. I feel the twist in my pulse, the wrench in my stomach. I manage a smile back, but I can't help the jealousy that sears, a living, breathing beast.

"Fine," I say, unwilling to give Dominic any more ammunition. "Just turn around."

Violetta gives me a wicked look. "Both of us?"

I snatch the black jumpsuit and orange vest from Dominic, and pull off my dress right then. My body isn't something I'm ashamed of, and if they want to watch―by all means, they can.

I pull off the straps of the shimmering silver dress, sad to see it go. The air is cool against my skin as I tug it off, pulling it down from my legs. Cold in the frigid air of this empty exhibit, I step into the jumpsuit.

But I can't help but notice Violetta's eyes. Looking almost . . . hungry, devouring my skin, my bare legs, the taut firmness of my stomach. I notice her eyes drift higher, to the sheer bra I wear, and it feels almost like a touch, that gaze. Holding my breasts with those phantom fingers, rubbing the soft skin.

I pull the sleeves of the jumpsuit on before she can see the peak of my nipples.

Dominic is completely uncaring as he rummages through the bag to see which painting we picked. I feel almost relieved. Whatever Violetta saw just now, the heat in her stare, it was reserved for me alone.