Raw Bloody Power

Chapter 10

10

I’M NOT A MAN WHO BEGS

Rio

The last thing I want to do tonight is traipse around some masquerade charity gala like I give a fuck about their cause, but it’s been two days since the meeting at Mad Bean, and Ivory has left me no choice.

This is part of what they do; Ivory and her mom have always handled all of the fundraising events for a number of charities while her father slips indecent amounts of money to elected city officials and law enforcement in return for their silence and cooperation.

Smart, really.

The “we care about community” front makes them appear as members of high society with the purest of intentions, which in turn helps sway the mayor, the DA, and everyone else in charge of keeping the streets safe from pushing back against their darker pursuits.

My father has tried to cut a similar deal many a times, offering the added protection of the Guerra army, but he’s been refused at every turn. Doesn’t come as much of a shock, frankly. My family tends to lean on the more violent end of the spectrum, whereas the Bellucis prefer a more silent but deadly approach.

Again, smart .

I’m not one to sing their praises, but I am man enough to give credit where it’s due. Perhaps if my dad paid more attention to the smaller details, he’d see their strategy has its advantages. I’ll never tell him that; I respect and admire him too much. Last thing I need is the man stroking out because I admitted his long-time adversary has some sensible business tactics.

“Name,” the attendant stationed outside of the Four Seasons asks, clipboard and pen ready for action.

“You won’t find me on there,” I state matter-of-factly, straightening out my mask.

“Then I’ll have to ask you to leave. This is a private event, sir.”

Reaching into my pocket, I fish out a wad of cash, about two grand or so, and extend it between two fingers. “I think not. Take this as a token of my appreciation for turning the other cheek and allowing me in.”

But Mr. Goody-Two-Shoes shakes his balding head, pushing the folded bills away. “I’m sorry, sir. Unless you have an invitation or your name is on the list, I cannot allow you to go inside.” He holds my stare; his full of resolution while mine undoubtedly glimmers with determination.

If he thinks I’m simply going to spin on my heel and give up that easily, he’s sorely mistaken .

“Look, I know you’re under strict orders not to let the public in, but I need to speak with the organizer immediately.” I gently shove the rejected cash into his chest and lean in closer, fully immersed in my facade. “We’ve been seeing each other for several months now and had a misunderstanding the other night. I’ve called her more times than I care to admit, but she refuses to answer. I just need to see her and somehow make this right. She needs to know I love her before she makes a grave mistake.”

Anddd boom , it works like a charm. The gentleman’s expression softens in an instant—like every sappy prick who believes in the notion of love—and quickly re-examines the proffered money before taking it with a swift hand and tipping his head toward the doors. “Make it quick, and if she asks how you got inside, leave me out of it.”

“You got it, big man.” I grin, clapping his shoulder with a firm hand.

The opulent lobby is abuzz with attendees making their way into the ballroom. They’re in a line of sorts, but I bypass it, weaving in and out of all the bodies en route to the doors. Upon breaching the threshold, I note most of these people to be donors. I suppose a contribution from my family wouldn’t be welcome, though it would make for a rather humorous listing for her records. Just imagining the look on her face when she realized as much has me tamping down a bout of laughter.

Racking up good deeds, however, isn’t why I’m here.

Gaze scanning the lavishly decorated space of silvers and golds, I find the woman I came to see across the room, directing a few servers carrying trays of appetizers and champagne flutes. Mask in place or not, I know it’s her. I could pick her out of any room—any time, any place, anywhere. Taking her by surprise might not fare well for me, but then again, the arranged meeting earlier this week didn’t, either. I’ve got a few superficial burns on my face to prove it. I’m depending on that third time being the charm thing because as badly as I don’t want her help, the fact of the matter is, I need it .

Ivory’s still caught up in hostess mode when I close in on her, so much that she doesn’t notice my presence until I tap her shoulder. Through the bejeweled-rimmed cut outs in her gold mask, that tawny stare drags up my form and settles on my face, a curt smile tugging at her lips. “Can I help you, sir?”

Yes, yes you can, Petal.

I don’t bother with a verbal response, lifting my mask up enough to expose the entirety of my face. Her eyes bulge from their sockets, glossy lips parting in shock. Obviously, she wasn’t expecting to see my handsome mug here tonight…

“What the hell are you doing here?” she questions gruffly. “How did you even get in?”

The asshole inside relishes her frustration, but I keep an even expression and refrain from flashing her a chuffed grin. “We need to talk.”

One of her famous eye rolls appears, a heavy sigh in tow as she clenches a fistful of my tuxedo jacket and drags me through one of the ballroom’s many doors. We end up in what appears to be some random storage closet, my back hitting the only uncluttered wall .

Yeah, no.

Before she can so much as lay another finger on me, I flip the script and whirl her around, pressing her into the space I just occupied. “Gotta be faster than that, Princess,” I warn, sealing a firm hand around her throat as I part her legs with my own and settle between them in an effort to keep my balls safe. “You ready to listen now?”

“I thought I was pretty clear the other day, but if you’re hoping to hear I magically changed my mind about whoring myself out for your cause, you’re going to be thoroughly disappointed,” she chokes out, prompting me to loosen my grip.

“Why the fuck are you so extra? I didn’t ask you to do that. You assumed, and I went along with it since you were too far down Petty Betty Lane to hear me out. I don’t need you to spread your legs and grant him an all-access pass to your pussy.” My hips roll into said heated space of their own volition, drawing the softest gasp out of her. “I just need you to distract him. Flirt with him, let him buy you drinks, keep him occupied for an hour—that’s it. You’ll be in and out, and when it’s all said and done, I’ll hand deliver your dad’s shit back to the port.”

Ivory removes her mask with a puffed breath, giving me a full view of the agitated expression now settled over her face. “I don’t buy it.”

“Which part?”

“All of it.” She tries wiggling free, but I’ve got her pinned.

“I can assure you I’m damn serious, Ivory. I need your help.” I slip off my mask, too, allowing her to see the sincerity scripted on mine.

Those golden orbs bore into me, bouncing back and forth between my browns uncertainly. I can’t even blame her. There’s not a singular reason for her to trust me, to grant me assistance in any capacity after all I’ve done.

“Don’t you have like a million hoes who could help you instead?” she tosses out after a beat, shoving me hard enough to scoot me back several steps out of her breathing space.

“None of them could handle it. They don’t have the experience you do.” I don’t realize what a poor choice of words that was until they’ve already spilled free and I’m met with red-hot rage.

Rushing me like a bull out of the pen, she shoves me with impressive force yet again and rams a manicured finger into my chest, one, two, three times. “That answer isn’t helping your case, Guerra. I’m not a fucking slut!”

“Are you hard of hearing?” My hand seals around her wrist, twisting her arm out of the way. “I already said I don’t need you to fuck him. I need you to distract him.”

“So why can’t one of your floozies do it then?”

“Because they don’t know the ins and outs of a family business like ours and all it entails. They don’t know what’s at stake.” I back her into the wall for the second time, bringing my lips a hairsbreadth from her ear. “Please.”

The way she scoffs ignites the fire in my blood, but I remain steady, wordless, unmoving, hoping temperance will sway her, and we can get this thing moving. Koshka isn’t going to have his stash sitting around for much longer. He’s got several crates ready for delivery.

Time is of the essence here.

“You must be desperate if you’re resorting to being polite,” she mutters, earning her a hum of concession as the tip of my nose grazes her neck of its own will, following the decadent, heady notes of her scent all the way to her collarbone. Coffee, vanilla, and something else I can’t quite make out.

I made it without incident the night in my office, but it’s impossible to ignore in this moment, my eyes falling shut in a daze.

“I’ll call a truce and beg if I have to, Belluci,” I whisper, inhaling another deep breath. “And you know I’m not a man who ever entertains such things.”

“Let’s hear it then.” Her voice comes equally as soft, breathy almost. “Beg me. Grovel. Get on your knees and?—”

Before I can think it through, I’m dropping to my haunches. Not quite my knees, but it’ll have to do. Dragging my gaze up from her heel-clad feet, I keep on past the deep slit of her dress and how it exposes a thick sun-kissed leg, the tips of my fingers skirting upwards along her calves. “Please, Ivory.” Our stares intertwine; hers from above, mine below. “Help me, and I’ll return what’s rightfully yours. You have my word.”

Get up, you stupid son of a bitch. Get up and get it together! We bow to no one, especially a Belluci!

My subconscious is right, but I’m not the only one who’s thrown off by this little interaction, noting the brisk rise and fall of her chest as I pull myself up and put some much needed space between us.

“Fine.” She swallows after a beat, watching me intently from the corner of her eye. “If I genuinely have your word—my help for my dad’s shipment—then fine.”

“I swear it,” I vow.

“When and where?”

“Tomorrow, eight p.m. Meet me in Central Park, the Obelisk. We’ll ride together from there.”

“Ride together where?”

“To his stomping grounds. Jersey.” I wink, and with that, I slip out the door before she can change her mind, all the while trying to convince myself that the slight throbbing of my cock has everything to do with taking my hit at Koshka—and nothing to do with the fact I was just in a closet with my ex.

At a charity gala.

In dangerously close proximity.

Her scent dazing my rationale.

Her body dropping me to my knees.

And for the first time in a long time…revenge was the last thing on my mind when I looked at her.