The Belladonna Game

Ottavio's p.o.v

Adrenaline coursed through my veins, anger and an unfamiliar sense of protection warring inside me. When I first saw this woman at the restaurant, openly spying on my employers and preparing to intercept them, I could have easily exposed her. Instead, I held back and even tried to warn her.

Now here she was again, seducing Brown Marino, and recognition prickled at the back of my mind. This woman had an ulterior motive. Maybe she was just another gold digger, using her beauty like a blade, aiming for a piece of the Marino fortune.

A gut-deep certainty told me she'd become a problem for me. She needed to be stopped now or I'd have no choice but to alert Brown.

I escorted her toward the ladies' restroom. On the way, we passed a couple going at it aggressively against the wall. I caught the faintest shudder from her, and my gaze drifted forward,only to lock on the curve of her hips swaying ahead of me. I clenched my jaw, battling the urge to look away and failing.

"Wait here," she said, her eyes skimming past mine as she slipped inside the restroom. My hand drifted into my pocket, a silent reminder to keep it there instead of around her throat.

After a few minutes, I decided it was time to do what I had been sent in with her to do. I stepped into the restroom, scanning the stalls but unable to tell which one she had entered. I waited a second only a second before I heard the faint, rapid clatter of teeth in the middle stall.

Following the sound, I gripped the door and yanked it open, not giving her a heartbeat's chance to recover.

My hand shot out, pressing against her throat as I slammed the restroom door shut behind us. The bang echoed off the tiled walls.

"What the hell are you doing, belladonna?" I snarled.

She clawed at my fingers, her nails digging into my skin. My grip wasn't tight enough to choke her, but it was firm enough to leave a mark she'd remember.

"What the fuck do you mean?" she snapped, voice sharp despite the pressure on her neck.

"I mean," I leaned in, my breath brushing her ear, "I know exactly what you are. Just another pretty little gold digger, aiming for the Marino fortune."

Her lips curved, even under the weight of my hand. "If that's what I am, you should be thanking me for aiming higher than you."

My jaw ticked. I let my hand fall from her throat, but when she brushed past me, I caught her wrist and yanked her back.

"I'm not done with you."

Her brows drew together. "Not done? What's that supposed to mean?"

I grinned, slow and deliberate. "It means I was instructed to deal with you. Brown is a very dangerous man, belladonna. Pouring that drink on you earlier? That was just a ploy to get you away from him, to search you. He has trust issues... and for good reason."

"I have nothing on me," she shot back, yanking her purse off her shoulder. She hurled it to the floor, its contents scattering across the tiles. Lipstick, perfume, cash, phone. Nothing else.

I glanced over it all, then met her gaze with a curt nod.

"See?" she said, arching a brow like she'd just won.

But my smirk deepened. I stepped closer. "Bag's clear. Now for the rest of you."

Her eyes narrowed. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Finishing my job." My voice dropped lower. "When I say Brown's dangerous, I don't just mean he wanted your bag searched. He wanted you searched. Every inch of you."

Before she could step back, my hand slid over her hip, down the outside of her thigh. She tensed, fighting to push me away, but I caught her wrist again, holding her there.

"This includes," I murmured, my palm gliding higher, "right down to your pussy."

She straightened her shoulders, the flicker of fear I'd seen in her eyes vanishing behind a wall of composure.

"You know," I said evenly, "you can back away from going to him now, and all this will stop. Right?"

She was silent for a moment before replying, her voice cool but laced with bite. "For someone who seems to be such a dutiful worker, you sure have... colorful things to say about your boss."

I chuckled, not bothering to answer. Instead, my hand left her thigh and drifted up the bare expanse of her back, exposed by the daring cut of her dress. She drew in a sharp breath, and for a fleeting second, I thought my touch might actually be getting to her.

"How many girls has he instructed you to do this to?" she asked.

I shouldn't have answered. But I did. "Too many. And you know what's shocking?"

Her silence told me she was listening, whether she wanted to or not.

"They all came out incriminating. We've seen your type before."

Her jaw clenched, but she didn't speak. My hand slid back to the front, fingers brushing between her thighs. She sucked in a breath; her teeth chattered, goosebumps breaking across her skin. I couldn't tell if it was from the cold air in the restroom or from me.

Either way, I stepped back against my better judgment, against the urge to finish what I'd started.

"You can go," I said.

Shock flitted across her face before she bent to gather her scattered things. While she did, my gaze caught a card half-hidden beneath her purse. I planted my foot over it, keeping it concealed. She didn't notice.

As she straightened, I slipped out of my suit jacket. She was almost at the door when I stopped her, stepping forward to drape it over her bare shoulders.

"I'll give Brown a... suitable review about you," I murmured.

She turned to glare at me, eyes cold and sharp, before walking out without another word.