Dirty little games

He sighed and turned away. Only when his footsteps faded did I let out the breath I had been holding. My chest heaved, my palms looking damp.

Where was he headed? Curiosity kicked in as I furrowed my brows, slowly tailing behind him.

The basement.

The same one that had always been forbidden to me since childhood.

He'd said it countless times, a girl like me didn't deserve to be born into the mafia world. So that door was always off-limits. And because he was 'Dad', and always a good man in my heart, I never questioned it. I was his little princess, spoiled with money, wrapped in protection.

But as the heavy iron door shut behind him, fingerprint and a code known to only him sealing it, a thought I never had before struck me. What could be in there?

I stood frozen, staring and guessing, until reality snapped me back. He didn't know I was home. If he came back and found me near the basement, I would answer questions I wasn't ready for.

I bolted upstairs, changed quickly, grabbed my phone, and escaped to Ava's place.

By the time I arrived, it was almost night.

"Hey, girl," Ava greeted, pulling me into a hug the moment she opened the door.

I slumped against her shoulder, tears threatening to fall.

"What happened?" she asked softly, stroking my back.

"We broke up," I whispered.

I told her everything. From Liam's cheating, to the fake diagnosis. She listened without interruption, but sometimes her eyes almost popped out of their sockets.

When I finished, her eyes blazed. "That crazy jerk isn't even worth licking your toenail. Who does he think he is?"

Despite my pain, I laughed weakly. Then my gaze drifted to her bed, piled up with skirts, gowns, and trousers. "Babe, are you going somewhere?"

Her cheeks flushed pink. "It's Frank's birthday. And...I'll be attending as his girlfriend."

My jaw dropped. "Girlfriend? You didn't tell me you guys were a thing!"

She twirled, giggling. "We kissed at the mall when I helped him try clothes in the fitting room. Then he asked me out so I said yes."

I gave her a long look. "He better treat you well."

Just then, my phone rang. Dad.

Unease curled in my stomach. For the first time in my life, I didn't feel safe answering him.

"Aren't you going to pick up?" Ava tilted her head.

My thumb hovered, then clicked.

"Lola," his voice was gentle. "Did you come home earlier today?"

My pulse skipped. Does he know or suspects I came earlier? Images of shattered glass and his tense expression flashed through my mind. I lied before I could stop myself. "No, Dad. I haven't been home."

A long pause. "Alright, then. Nothing's wrong. I just... thought you came home earlier." His tone softened again, almost sweet.

"Well, Dad, I won't be sleeping at home tonight. I'm with Ava."

He hesitated. "Why, darling?"

That threw me off. Since turning nineteen, I'd slept out countless times, and he had never cared. Why now?

I forced a brittle laugh. "No reason. Just wanted to stay with her tonight."

"Alright, princess." His sigh was soft. "Stay safe. Daddy loves you."

"I love you too," I whispered before hanging up. Finally breathing a sigh of relief.

It had always been obvious that dad loved me the most. Giving me the love I needed from both parents since I didn't grow up with a mother.

Perhaps, he just didn't want me to know about him being threatened to pay his debt, which was why he had acted so strongly on the phone call at home. That was the only reasonable explanation to this mess.

Then it clicked. He needed money and was hiding it from me. He didn't want me to worry.

My hand brushed the cash intended for Liam still stuffed in my pocket. Not nearly enough. The men at the club flashed in my mind, chanting for me to come back.

My eyes narrowed as I thought of something.

When Ava finished dressing, I asked casually, "When will you be back?"

"By dawn. I'll be staying overnight with Frank. Won't you come? He even gave me an invite for you."

I shook my head quickly. "I look awful, babe. Just go without me. Tell him I'm busy."

She smiled, kissed my cheek. "Okay. Take care."

Perfect. Dawn gave me time to do whatever I had to do.

I rummaged through the dresses I kept at her place until I found the lingerie and veil from the night before. My fingers trembled, but my mind was set. Tonight, I'd dance again. For Dad.

---

The club roared the moment I stepped in. Whistles, claps, hungry eyes. I shrugged off my jacket, tossed it to a man at the corner like yesterday, and claimed the stage.

The pole was cold against my palms, but my body flowed with the music. Every sway, every spin, was fire. Money rained down, bills slapped against my skin. The crowd screamed louder with each move.

"Didn't I tell you she'd be back?" someone shouted among the crowd.

In minutes, I made more than double the night before. My veins pulsed with adrenaline. Every twist of my body was for being free from debt and living a peaceful life.

Until the music went off.

A man in black strode toward me. Suit, sunglasses, expression unreadable. He didn't look like any of Dad's previous bodyguards that had worked for him.

"Who are you?" I asked, narrowing my eyes.

"Boss wants to see you," he said low.

Boss? My mind raced. A big shot? Maybe luck was on my side tonight after all.

But then suspicion hit. "Is your boss planning to sleep with me? Because if he is..."

"No." His voice cracked, flustered. "Not that."

I followed him upstairs, heart hammering in rhythm with each step. Staff whispered as we passed.

"They say a huge name is here tonight. Keeping his identity anonymous". Nudging their shoulders against each other.

By the time we reached the top floor, the air had changed. Cooler, sharper and quieter than the mess that was going downstairs. Even as a millionaire's daughter, I couldn't afford the fourth floor. I could only afford the second. This was a place even my father's wealth had never reached.

We got to the VIP room and the guard opened the soundproof door.

There he was.

Legs crossed on a sleek black leather chair, the dim light casting a soft glow across his face. Sharp jaws like it was carved, piercing eyes, black curls falling carelessly over his forehead. He looked like an angel who mistakenly fell into the mortal world. Everything about him radiated danger and dominance.

My heart stuttered. How could someone be terrifying and devastatingly beautiful at the same time?

"Welcome, Miss Grey," he said smoothly.

I froze. He knew my name.

I stood, pretending to be bold but couldn't meet his gaze straight on. His presence was too heavy and consuming.

He was a big shot, something so little like knowing my name would be a piece of cake to him.

"Who are you and why was I called up here?" I summoned the courage to ask, bracing myself up to look into his eyes.

"Which of your questions should I answer first?". He asked, lazily raising a brow.

Although I wanted to know why he had wanted me here but I was more curious about his identity

I swallowed. "Who are you?"

He swirled amber liquid in his glass before dropping it on the glass table beside him.

"I am Damien." He said. Now lighting a cigarette.

The room fell silent. The tick of the clock became the only thing that could be heard. His eyes held mine, daring me to look away.

And then, the corner of his lips curved. His voice cut through me like a sharp blade as the smell of smoke enveloped me.

"...Salvatore DeLuca." Voice calm.

The name struck me like lightning, my body turned ice cold and I almost passed out on the spot.