Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 65987 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 330(@200wpm)___ 264(@250wpm)___ 220(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 65987 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 330(@200wpm)___ 264(@250wpm)___ 220(@300wpm)
The message was clear. No one would interfere with Valentina Reeves when she was on the warpath. Whatever power Dario wielded at The Gray, Valentina clearly commanded her own brand of fear and respect. Which proved her point. Dario always came back to her. Likely the reason she wielded power here.
My fingers trembled against the tray. For the first time since starting at The Gray, I felt truly out of my depth. This wasn't just a luxurious club where I served drinks and collected generous tips. There were currents moving beneath the surface that I couldn't see or understand, connections that extended far beyond these walls.
"You think you know him because he showed you a moment of kindness," Valentina continued, reading the doubt on my face with frightening accuracy. "You know nothing about Dario Luca. Nothing about who he really is, what he's capable of, or what he requires from the people in his life." Her voice dropped lower, became almost intimate. "You think those little cookies you baked could possibly satisfy a man like him? Dario devours people whole, Belle. He consumes them and moves on, leaving nothing but scraps behind."
I swallowed hard, trying to push down the knot of fear in my throat. How did she know about my baking? Had she been watching me that closely? The thought made me feel exposed, vulnerable in ways I hadn't anticipated.
"I just want to do my job," I whispered, hating how small my voice sounded in the narrow space between us. "That's all I'm here for."
"Is it?" Valentina challenged, her eyes searching mine. "Then why do you watch him when you think no one is looking? Why does your breath catch when he enters a room?"
Oh God! Had I been so obvious? I thought I'd hidden my inexplicable attraction to Dario, buried it beneath professionalism and the desperate need to keep this job. But apparently, I'd been transparent, readable not just to Valentina but perhaps to everyone at The Gray.
"I don't—" I started, but the lie died on my lips. What was the point of denying it when she'd clearly seen the truth written across my face?
Valentina's expression hardened, any pretense of politeness vanishing. "You need to understand your place in this world, little mouse. You're staff. Disposable. Replaceable." Her nail tapped against the tray, the sound sharp and final. "Dario might be amused by you for now, but men like him don't change. Not for anyone, and certainly not for some waitress who can’t deliver drinks without spilling them and has a hunger for a man she thinks can save her from a life of living paycheck to paycheck. Even if you manage to crawl into his bed, you’ll never get his money. Dario doesn’t need prostitutes."
The truth of her words cut deeper than I wanted to admit. Who was I to think someone like Dario Luca would see me as anything more than temporary entertainment? I was a nobody from nowhere, barely keeping my head above water, while he commanded an empire built on wealth and power I couldn't begin to comprehend. Of course it would look like I was gold digging!
"Do we understand each other?" Valentina asked, her voice silky with triumph as she read the defeat in my eyes.
I gathered the last shreds of my courage and pushed forward suddenly, breaking Valentina's invisible hold. "Excuse me," I said again, my voice stronger this time as I slid sideways along the wall, creating enough space to slip past her. My heart hammered against my ribs, adrenaline making my movements jerky as I put distance between us. I expected her to grab me, to continue her verbal assault, but she merely turned, watching me retreat with cool amusement.
"You're out of your depth, little mouse," she called after me, her voice bouncing off the narrow corridor walls. "Ask around about what happened to the last waitress who caught his eye."
I froze mid-step, a chill racing up my spine. The last waitress? What did that mean? I half-turned, curiosity warring with self-preservation. Valentina stood where I'd left her, a satisfied smile playing at the corners of her perfectly painted lips. She knew she'd hooked me with that parting shot, knew I was balanced on the knife-edge of asking for more.
The smart move would be to walk away, to ignore her baiting comment and continue with my shift as if nothing had happened. But the implication hung in the air between us, heavy with unspoken threat. What had happened to this other waitress? And was I headed down the same path?
My curiosity lost out to fear. I turned away without asking and continued down the corridor, my steps quickening until I was nearly running. I could feel Valentina's gaze drilling into my back until I rounded the corner and escaped her line of sight.