Pain and Pleasure by Callie Vincent

12

Esmeralda

I can't getover the arched ceilings.

We've been inside Dante's restaurant for ten minutes and I'm gushing over ceilings. As soon as you enter the building, you're literally punched in the face by a large fountain and that gushes waves like a waterfall. It's gorgeous, but over the top. Definitely like Dante in that sense. But it's the ceilings that grab me.

Once we made our way through the maze of candlelit tables, waiters with large trays and countless customers gossiping over wine, we ended up at a white, leather booth on the other side of the fountain. It sits up against a bay window and the tablecloth is, of course, silk. I smiled as we sat, Dante's hand brushing against my bare knee under the table.

"For you, everything should be silk," he whispered huskily as a waiter poured wine into the glasses on our table.

He ordered food for us, but I wasn't able to pay attention to what it was that he ordered. My focus has been on the ceilings that belong in a cathedral. The arches are so high and there are paintings of angels and demons on them, stopping as soon as the highest arch point ends. It's breathtaking.

"Like what you see?" Dante asks as we sip our wine. I turn to him and smile broadly.

"This is amazing, Dante. Absolutely stunning," I say, the smile never leaving my lips.

He nods and continues to stare at me, his eyes trained on my mouth. I quirk an eyebrow at him.

"What are you staring at?" I ask. His eyes don't move from my mouth, but he shakes his head slowly at me.

"Nothing. I just think that I like making you...smile," he says, and I can't help but grin from ear to ear.

He says that like he's never said it to anyone before, like this is the first time he's ever conjured up those words. It makes my stomach flutter, but what gets me the most is how open he's being. We've really gotten to know each other more, though it's been slow, and he allows me to see glimpses of who he is beneath the cold, hard exterior he's built around himself.

"You've been awfully nice to me this week, you know." I tease him as I sip more of my wine. It's smooth and dry, but I actually like it.

"That's because you've been less difficult for me." He teases back, the lock of hair hanging above his eyebrow making me want to reach out and smooth it back.

Rather than wishing silently like I normally do, I let my hand extend out to smooth it back. His eyes never leave mine as I do it and it makes me feel this warm feeling that spreads throughout my entire body.

I'm falling in love with him.

There's no denying it. Though he makes me want to kill him at times, he brings out this giddy and sensual side of me that's never been brought out. I can't keep shoving down what blooms inside of me for him. No matter if the hurt that may come destroys me, at least I had this. This wonderful, new and exciting feeling.

"I want to...discuss something with you," he says softly, but there's a harsh bite to it.

I shouldn't have settled into my giddiness so soon.

"What is it?" I question him, trying not to show any fall of disappointment in my face.

He sits quietly for a moment before sipping his wine and looking around the room. He's broken eye contact with me and almost seems...nervous. Unease begins to spread in my stomach.

"You said something to me the other week, the night before you left for home."

He pauses and I stare at my wine glass, feeling embarrassed suddenly. I can love him in private because it's safe. Talking about it with him not only makes me feel shy, but terrified. Because in a second, he could grab my heart and rip it from my chest. Any man can do that, but he does it every day for work. He sneaks up in an instant and ends a person's life. I'm sure it would be easy to do the same to my heart, no matter how much he loves to fuck me. At the end of the day that's all it is, fucking.

"We don't have to discuss-"

"We do and we will." He cuts me off.

I grab my wine and sip it cautiously, eyeing him even though I feel embarrassed by my stupid admission two weeks ago. I'm not ready to love him out loud. I'm not ready to be disappointed. I know it's too soon to love somebody. But Dante's not just anybody, he's the god of the underworld and being with him is like a religious experience. I'm damned no matter what.

"You didn't have to tell me what you feel for me, pequeña. I can see it all over your face. I've felt it in your touch. In your anger. I've felt its energy and presence from the first time you let me inside of your body."

His voice is so husky, and I feel the blush creeping from my chest to my cheeks. My face is becoming hot and I can't look at him.

"But that's because it's just who you are, isn't it? You're a woman that loves freely, that walks through life with so much hope and gives everyone the benefit of the doubt, no matter how much you've been hurt. No matter how poorly people have treated you."

He says that last part like it's venomous, like it pains him.

"Look at me," he says, but I don't listen.

I continue to stare at the table, my face in flames. His hand snaps out and grabs my chin, tilting it up and forcing me to look at him. His eyes are earnest, bathing me in their amber light. He's so beautiful that it hurts.

"Perfect Emmie," he murmurs, his rough hand moving from my chin to my cheek, cupping my face as I rest it into the palm of his hand.

"I've lived a million lifetimes, Esmeralda. And you will come to know about some of them, but others I want to keep away from you because they're murderous. I'm not ready to let them touch you yet. I don't know if I'll ever want to." He whispers this to me and my heart aches for him, aches for the man who's afraid to love freely because of the dark world he was born into.

I kiss his palm and his eyes darken. I see him start to lean forward, but our waiter rounds the corner with our food and the conversation stops there. Although it was tender, I'm still not ready to dive deep into that talk. We've shared such a peaceful and light week with one another, that I want to stay on that high for just a little while longer. Soak in its beauty for as long as I can.

He ordered us tender lamb chops that rested on a colorful bed of greens. My mouth waters and he reaches over to cut me a slice of meat before sliding it into my mouth. It's romantic and the taste of the lamb mixed with his gesture have me all but moaning in my seat.

We eat like that for a while, sipping wine once we're finished, basked in comfortable silence. I look at the large, stone clock on the wall and notice that it's close to nine.

"What club are we going to tonight?" I ask.

"One of my high-profile ones in the city," he says as he hands the waiter a large tip, holding his hand out for me to take as we get up.

"A name would be cool, too," I tease and he smirks, ushering me out the door and into a waiting car.

"Rio," he says and my eyes narrow. That's the club Ricky took me to for my birthday a couple of weeks ago, the one Dante was watching me at.

Club Rio was the best club to get into near our school. The drinks cost a lot, but the place had like four levels to it. I had only been on the main dance floor and balcony. I had no idea what else it had to offer. I automatically know that there's a motive or reason for us going.

This man owns several clubs and he's choosing to take us to not only one that we've been to, but the one closest to my old dorm. The one right in the area that my father is watching like a hawk. It's no wonder Dante needs to go there. What confuses me is why he's making Ricky and I go.

"Why are you bringing me back to an area that you don't want me in?" I question him. His phone buzzes and he opens it, answering me as he types out a message.

"It's been a long couple of weeks. I have business to tend to and I figured you and your friend would like a night out." He puts his phone in his pocket and continues to look out the window.

He's lying.

"Bullshit. You're using me as bait," I say, feeling it down to my core that it's the truth.

His eyes snap to me, anger surfacing in their beautiful depths.

"I'm thankful to see that you still think so highly of me, mi ciela." My sky. It's a new and sweet name for him to call me, but he practically sneers it at me.

I want to get angry and stomp my foot like a child, but I decide to be open. If cooperating allows him to feel comfortable enough to give me the answers I seek, then I'll try my best to do it. It certainly can't hurt at this point.

"Just be honest with me," I tell him earnestly.

He softens a little bit, but still refuses to give me an answer. So I do the next best thing that I can think of: I bait him.

"If you aren't going to tell me the truth then I'm just going to go straight to bed and sleep when I get home. I have a lot of work to do tomorrow." I say this sternly, but inside I feel smug.

His eyes flare, now furious. I want to laugh at his childish response.

"Como el infierno que eres!" Like hell you are! He snaps at me and I want to smile at his outburst, but I stare gently at him.

"Just tell me the truth. Please. That's all I'm asking for." My hand rests on his knee and I see his face soften.

He sighs deeply, looking away from me and back out the window as he finally responds after a few minutes of silence.

"Juan Carlos has been quiet since you've been back. I need to gauge him a little better. If he's truly watching over the area, he'll see you and maybe I can see just how many men he's actually short of."

He pinches the bridge of his nose and continues after he pauses for a moment, obviously tense.

"The man says a lot of bullshit things and you can never trust anything that spews from him. Even if it's as pathetic as admitting his own weakness, it could always be a trap."

A trap that you're luring me into.

I don't say this, but I can't help but think it. He senses my unease and looks back at me, and our gazes locked in silence for several minutes. I finally take a deep breath and give him the benefit of the doubt.

"You'll keep me safe?" He grabs my hand and kisses the back of it. I shiver at his touch.

"I'll protect you with my life, mi ciela," he says fiercely, his soft lips leaving my hand.

"Then at least buy me a drink," I say and his dark chuckle fills the car.

* * *

We arrived at Club Rio in about thirty minutes.

Ricky is already outside with a drink in his hand, looking at me with an annoyed expression as Dante and I approach the entrance. I notice more security than usual and try to trust Dante as best as I can. He’s right, I can’t trust my father, but I can do my best to trust him. Even if it terrifies me.

“Took you long enough. A few more cosmos and I was going to start flirting with terminator over here,” Ricky says before he sips his drink, his shoulder raising in Sergio’s direction. I hold back my laugh as we all walk inside, the bass of the music thumping through my bones.

It’s a Saturday night so the club is packed. I can see why Dante brought us here tonight. No matter how good Juan Carlos’ motives may potentially be, nobody would be dumb enough to attack a high-profile club on one of their busiest nights. Too much attention from the media if there’s a lot of citizens involved.

Dante grabs my hand and we all follow him to an elevator that’s to the left of the bar. We weave in and out of the swarming bodies and finally step in. He presses the number three on the pad and we climb the floors in silence. I know there’s another, larger, rooftop bar on the fourth floor. But I can’t remember what Ricky said was on the third floor when he told me about this place. Obviously, it wasn’t the best place because as soon as Dante hit that number, Ricky’s eyes snapped to mine, confusion and humor sparkling in them.

As soon as the elevator stops and the doors open, Ricky's eyes move away from mine and I stare ahead of me as Dante walks out with his hand in mine. The red lights flash across the small dance floor which is in the center of several raised platforms, platforms that held both tall poles and dancers sliding on them gracefully and with ease.

A strip club.

No shame, women are beautiful creatures, but what I'm wondering is why I'm walking in here with Dante and not alone with my best friend. It feels both awkward and tense. Tense because my jealousy rears its ugly head as several half naked and beautiful women eye Dante slowly and lustfully as we walk past the dance floor and sit at a large booth tucked in the corner of the room.

There are several rooms lining the back of this area that we sit at, all set with black doors. That's obviously where they hold private dances and for a fleeting moment, I feel curious.

"Why are we here?" I whisper into his ear as his hand finds my thigh under the table.

It slides up and stops right where my dress rides up, his fingers skimming the edge of the material. I bite my lip and break my gaze away from him, trying not to make Ricky uncomfortable by our silent interaction. He doesn't seem to pay any mind because he's already walking back up to the bar to grab another drink. As I try to bring my gaze back to Dante, I see a woman walking towards our table.

A woman in a red dress with long brown hair and red lips to match her outfit. A woman that narrows her eyes on me as she gets closer to Dante and me.

Isabella.