Sold by Clarissa Wild

Marcello

I’ma second away from leaving this shit hole when I hear a commotion off to one side.

“Where do you think you’re going,” A man says while pawing one of the cocktail waitresses.

And not just any cocktail waitress.

Her.

The girl with the silky soft, blond hair and the emerald eyes, the one who captured every inch of my attention, even the thick, throbbing one in my pants.

Something about that girl still catches my attention. She doesn’t look like she belongs in a place like this. Her eyes seem haunted.

“I’m busy,” she replies. I note the tension in her voice and how carefully she’s trying to peel the drunken man’s hands off her.

My gaze drifts over her flawless skin, her perfect curves, and then settles on her clenched jaw.

She looks fierce and confident, like a warrior.

“Aw, c’mon, I want to get to know you a little bit,” the bastard repeats. “You’re beautiful, girl. What’s your name?”

Beautiful girl, indeed, but the mere fact that it is that foul bastard saying that to her makes my skin crawl.

Suddenly, she swings and slams the tray she was holding right into his face. The idiot slumps back, and it looks like she knocked him out cold.

Good girl.

Letting out a satisfied chuckle, I feel admiration toward the girl. It’s not every day I get a show like this.

Then she glances up, and her green eyes lock with mine. Awareness bleeds into my chest, curiosity mixing with admiration. The other patrons and music fade to the background until there’s only her… the fiery warrior with the face of an innocent angel.

Her green eyes stare into my soul once again. Bright, intelligent, but scared.

Apprehension shadows her features, and her lips part, drawing my attention to them. An image of the pad of my thumb brushing over her bottom lip flashes through my mind, and I begin to grow hard.

This is a girl worth claiming. Worth unwrapping to see what secrets she holds. Worth consuming again and again until she has nothing left to give.

It makes possessiveness fill my chest, which is something I have never felt before. Not for any woman, until now.

I know she feels the electric current between us. It shows on her face. She likes what she sees, even though there’s a glimmer of fear in her eyes.

Desire rumbles in my chest.

I want to claim her. I want to own every inch of her.

Then she breaks eye contact, turns tail, and flees into the dark recesses of the club, toward one of the VIP rooms. The music comes rushing back in along with the pained groans of the man she hit.

I let out a chuckle. Did she just try to escape me?

The predator in me stirs as my heartbeat speeds up with exhilaration.

Game on.

“Wait here,” I murmur to my men as I rise to my feet. “I will be back in a couple of minutes.”

Straightening my jacket, I don’t wait for an answer from any of my men as I walk toward the VIP room. I can’t fucking wait to get my hands on this pretty girl, and when I do … I will enjoy every inch of her skin with both my hands and my tongue.

“That fucking bitch…!” the drunk idiot she hit snarls as he tries to climb to his feet, stumbling into my way.

Grabbing hold of his arm, I shove him back into his seat.

Startled, he looks up at me. “Who the fuck are you…?”

Recognition flashes over one of his friend's faces, and he quickly grabs the drunk idiot. “Christ, Chuck, are you fucking insane?” He leans closer to the idiot called Chuck. “You don’t want to fuck with this man.” The friend glances at me with an apologetic look. “I’m sorry.”

Without giving them another second of my time, I resume my chase.

I stop outside the VIP room, and the corner of my mouth lifts as I push the door open. Stepping into the luxurious room, I instantly lock my eyes on my prey.

The girl lifts the tray in front of her as if she’s thinking about using it against me as well.

I let out an amused chuckle. “ Is that supposed to intimidate me?”

“Back off,” she threatens even though there’s a tremble in her voice.

Even though she’s scared, her eyes are filled with fire.

God, it’s a turn-on.

Wanting to set her at ease, I say, “Relax. I’m not going to hurt you.”

“Then why did you follow me?” she demands, lifting her chin an inch.

The corner of my mouth lifts again, amused by her display of bravery. “What’s your name, kitten?”

“Why do you care?” Then she scowls at me. “And don’t call me kitten.”

“Just curious.” I step inside the room and shut the door behind me, which makes the girl stiffen.

“Who are you, and what do you want?”

“Marcello.” I let my name drift over my lips.

What do I want?

Her.

To my surprise, she lets out a burst of laughter. “Yeah, right,” she scoffs. “And I’m freaking Cleopatra.”

I tilt my head to the side, my eyes narrowing on her. “Is there something funny about my name?”

Her gaze glides over me. “The expensive suit, the accent, the name … If you’re going to cosplay as some big bad Mafia guy, I’d try to be a little more subtle about things, you know?”

Hmm … so she doesn’t even know.

Most men here would recognize me in a heartbeat, even the drunken bastards, which means this girl is not a part of this world I’m in. Yet she works at this club, the one place where all dirty deals are made. Interesting. What is she doing here?

Moving closer, I take a seat on the couch a couple of feet away from her. She stiffens again, but when I make myself comfortable, unbuttoning my jacket, she seems to relax a little. Enough to lower the tray.

I drink in the sight of her, and now that we’re close, I can appreciate just how stunning she is. Taking a deep breath, I say, “I assure you, kitten, I’m not playing at anything.”

“I told you to stop calling me that.”

“What?” I ask, feigning ignorance.

“Kitten.”Her voice is sharp and aggressive, but I see the fear dancing in her eyes. There’s also curiosity, which means she’s not as cold toward me as she’d like me to believe.

A smile tugs at my mouth as I play with her. “But I don’t know your name. What else am I supposed to call you?”

“Definitely not that.” Her eyebrows are a sharp downward V. Intense, unafraid.

It doesn’t escape my attention that she’s not telling me her name.

I rise to my full height, and it forces her to tilt her head back to keep eye contact with me. “Tell me something, kitten.”

She furrows her brows more.

“If you are so frightened of me—”

“I’m not,” she grinds the words out between clenched teeth.

“Then tell me to leave,” I dare her, wanting to see just how brave she is.

Judging from her rigid stance, she wants to fight, but her own curiosity keeps her from saying the words.

“Mhh …” Shaking my head, I start to slowly move closer until there’s only a breath of air between us. Our eyes lock, and then I murmur, “I get the feeling you’re just as interested as I am. I dare you to deny it.”

Her soft scent fills my nostrils—sweat and perfume in equal measure. It’s feminine and alluring. My cock strains against the fabric of my pants, and for a moment, I’ve forgotten all about the goddamned Irish, about the electronics shipment and the weapons I need to collect… about everything outside this room.

There’s only this girl with the defiant look in her eyes and body made for sinful nights. Slowly, I lower my gaze, again reveling in the sight of her curves all the way down to her creamy white thighs on full display due to her short skirt.

What it would feel like to have those thighs wrapped around my neck while I feast on her pussy.

This is out of character for me. I’m always in control of my emotions, of everything, but with this girl, I want to say fuck it all and give in to the lust she makes me feel.

Would she stop me if I took her right here?

I’m too far gone to wonder about what the hell I’m doing in this room with this girl or to ask myself why I’m having such a strong reaction to her.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” she asks, her voice nothing but a choked whisper, and fuck, it turns me on even more.

Leaning a little down, I bring my eyes back to hers and take a deep breath of her soft, intoxicating scent. “In my line of work, a man quickly learns how to read people,” I murmur, keeping my tone intimate. It makes her pupils dilate as she stares up at me. “What they want. Their fears… and your body is screaming with need, which is a total contradiction to what you’d like me to believe.”

She tips her chin up, fighting to remain defiant even though there’s a soft flush of heat on her cheeks. Then she stammers, “S-Stop.”

We’re wrapped in a bubble filled with anticipation and intimacy, her green eyes wide on mine. The hand holding the tray has fallen to her side, and only a breath of air and our clothes separates my cock from her sinful body.

Slowly, I let out a breath, and unable to resist, I lift my hand to brush my fingers over the creamy stretch of skin, visible between the hem of her shirt and her skirt.

Suddenly, the music stops, breaking our spell. Glancing over my shoulder, I frown as my eyes settle on the door.

I’m here for business, and god only knows how long I’ve been in this room with this girl.

What the fuck was I thinking?

Anger flickers in my chest because I practically lost my control over a girl I know nothing about.

She lets out a taunting laugh. “I knew it,” she mocks. “You’re a faker, after all. Marcello, my ass. By the way, you’re just as paranoid as the two Irish guys in the back. Is it a Mafia thing?”

My blood runs cold in my veins as my gaze snaps back to the girls. “What did you just say?”

For a moment, confusion flashes over her beautiful features. “The faker part?”

“No,” I growl. “What Irishmen?”

She shrugs nonchalantly, and with the sexual tension gone between us, I narrow my eyes on her.

Something is very wrong.

“The two Irish guys,” she repeats. “The ones sitting in the back, blabbering about Italians and Russians and some other stuff. I don’t know. I didn’t catch it all. They looked like you, though, paranoid as hell.”

The Irish and the Russians?

Fuck, they’ve been here all along.

White-hot rage burns through my veins that the Irish played me for a fool. They’ll fucking pay for this. Yanking my phone from my pocket, I call Claudio’s number, and the moment he answers, I order, “Get the men. We’re leaving, right fucking now.”

My senses are on high alert as I shove the device back in my pocket, and sparing the girl one last glance, I say, “Until next time, kitten.” Before she can reply, I stalk to the door, and yanking it open, I leave the VIP room.

The air is thick with tension. It doesn’t feel right. It doesn’t feel right at all.

The Duffys were here all this time, which means they don’t want me to know.

It’s a fucking trap.

My heartbeat speeds up, and all my senses sharpen as I keep glancing around me while I walk down the hallway and weave my way through the tables. My men fall in behind me, with Claudio by my side. When I hear my name being called from somewhere at the back of the club, I reach behind me and pull my gun out, finding comfort in the solid steel touching my skin. My men instantly do the same, knowing to follow my lead.

I’m not gonna let myself get caught in a fucking Irish trap.

I’ll make them fucking bleed for even trying.

And when it’s over… I’ll find that girl.