Chapter 8: Broken Rules: Chapter 8

“I’ll be at yours in like half an hour.” Allie’s voice sounds loud and clear through my phone’s speaker.

“Did I forget about something?”

Wardrobe doors slam on her side. “We’re going out on a double date. I found the perfect guy for you. Don’t even think about refusing. You’ve been absent-minded for two weeks because of Carrow. Enough is enough.”

True. Two weeks is a long time to lust after someone I spent two evenings with. Unfortunately, evicting Dante from my mind is a Sisyphean task. I can’t stop thinking about his lips, firm touch, and rough voice.

After I asked him to leave me alone, I checked my phone every few minutes, hoping he’d call. I also searched the crowds outside my college, hoping to see him, but he stopped seeking me out just as I asked.

So why am I disappointed?

Oh, that’s right.

didn’t want him to leave. Frank did, and I hoped Dante wouldn’t listen. But he’s proud, decent, and apparently a man of his word. At least sometimes.

Too bad he started listening to me the first kiss.

We’re two ends of a magnet. I’m North, he’s South, but we pull each other in against all odds. He won’t stop invading my thoughts, so maybe it truly is the right time for drastic measures. A blind date isn’t the brightest idea, but knowing Allie’s taste in men, I’ll take the risk.

“Who is he?” I ask.

Allie squeals. “I knew I’d convince you! He’s straight. I swear! I checked like times. We’ll talk more when I’m there. Take a shower!”

Twenty minutes later, I emerge from the ensuite bathroom with a towel on my head.

Allie’s already there, unpacking the trunks, littering my room with make-up and twenty different dresses. She enrolled for a part-time course to become a professional stylist a few months ago. Whenever she’s got an assignment, she uses me as her guinea pig.

“Sit down and shut up.” She shoves me toward the chair standing by my dressing table. “Tonight, I choose what you wear on your face, head, and ass.”

She’s talented, and often, I resemble a piece of art by the time she’s done, but her frivolous taste leaves a lot to be desired. Instead of protesting against the dark eyeshadow or the blood-red lipstick, I bite my tongue. Maybe a diametrical change in appearance will suffocate the growing part of me that obsesses over a particular enemy?

“Will you tell me something about the guy you’ve set me up with? His name, for example.”

“Aaron Jones.” She grips the backrest, dipping her head to meet my eyes in the mirror. “He’s tall, muscular perfection. You’ll when you see him! Like, honestly, he’s absolutely gorgeous! If I wasn’t in love with Adam, I’d so go for Aaron.” She flips the hairdryer on, cutting the chat short for a moment.

Then, she goes on, telling me the scarce information she has about Aaron while working with my hair. An hour later, she’s done curling my locks into tight, spiral curls and sprays my face with a heavenly-smelling mist, sealing my fashion-model-worthy make-up.

I don’t feel myself with a dark smoky eye, but I do my best to share Allie’s enthusiasm.

“You’re going somewhere?” Frank cocks an eyebrow when I enter the kitchen, all dolled up, wearing a black fitted dress that covers a whole inch more than just my ass.

Allie said she’d never speak to me again if I chose to wear anything other than the hooker-styled dress. Expensive and glamorous but still hooker-styled.

“We’ve got a date, Frank,” she chirps, batting her eyelashes at my father, lips curved in an ear-to-ear grin. “It’s right about time we find this beauty a man, don’t you think? What a lovely coincidence that I just happened to meet the perfect guy don’t you think?”

Frank bobs his head, utterly disinterested. He only cares about keeping me in line. “Is Adam going with you?”

“Yes.” I straighten my spine, lifting my chin to artificially boost my confidence. “Can you give Burly a night off?”

It’d be awkward to have him there, breathing down my neck all evening. Dante hasn’t been in touch with me since the dance studio two weeks ago, and I hope Daddy will start loosening the strict security regime. I almost hear his brain cells working before he bobs his head once.

“Have fun.”

Have I fallen through the looking glass?

“Thanks, Frank. We sure will.” Allie grips my hand, dragging me outside, where Adam waits behind the wheel of his car. “We told Aaron we’ll meet him at the restaurant,” Allie explains when I cock an eyebrow, surprised that he’s not there. She rubs her hands together, babbling about the guy for the duration of our journey.

Adam keeps turning up the volume on the radio, but Allie turns it down every time. And so, we listen to graphic descriptions of Aaron’s sculpted biceps, triceps, and other ceps.

Twenty minutes later, we enter a restaurant not far from the invisible border that separates Dante and Frank’s territories. Not far from Delta, which is only a few blocks away. Dante’s probably there…

I dismiss the relentless thoughts, glancing around the space, navy walls, light-wood floor, and black tables surrounded by cream leather chairs. The place fits Allie’s taste—luxurious. Large crystal chandeliers hang low over the plains, and floor-length curtains cover arched windows. Peonies decorate the windowsills, filling the air with their sweet scent.

Allie points at a table in the middle of the room, where a brawny, elegant man sits, nervously rolling up the sleeves of his shirt. An enormous, black and white mural of an owl painted on the wall behind his back steals my attention.

“Oh my God! I know, right?!” Allie elbows my ribs, mistaking my admiration of the art for the approval of Aaron, when she digs her long nails into my arm. “He’s like gorgeous!”

Not what I’d say, but she does have a point. Surprisingly, she didn’t exaggerate when describing Aaron. He looks about twenty-four and wears a baby-blue shirt that struggles to contain the muscles Allie so graciously described earlier. An undercut top knot and a well-groomed beard make him appear rough, despite his delicate features. The evening looks up until we approach the table because I notice his eyes. They’re . In a flash, Dante regains control of my mind, wreaking havoc.

“I’m Aaron. You must be Layla.” He kisses the back of my hand and, with similar old-fashion manners, pulls out a chair for me. “What can I get you to drink?”

“Moji—” I start but change my mind before the word fully rolls off my tongue. “No, white wine. Medium dry.”

I love mojitos, but now it’s something I share with one particular person… looks like this will be a long evening.

After checking Adam and Allie’s orders, Aaron nods, leaving for the bar. I’d expect a waiter would take care of the drinks, but Aaron’s already halfway across the room; his step eager, as if waiting on me will earn him a few extra brownie points.

“And? He’s nice, right?” Allie whispers, leaning over the table. “He was when I showed him your picture.”

“How do you know each other?” I ask, ignoring the question. Many more will come throughout the meal.

“I met him at the gym. He’s my personal trainer.”

That explains his ideal physique. I stop thinking about the man with the most striking green eyes, but when Aaron returns, I can’t focus on anything other than Dante again. Before the food arrives forty minutes later, Aaron tells a brief life story—he moved here from California with his girlfriend, who dumped him for someone else a month later.

“Why don’t you go back to California?” I ask, interested, for the first time since I walked through the door.

Aaron smiles, clearly pleased that I took the initiative instead of merely answering his questions. “I sold everything I owned back in Los Angeles. My parents moved to Australia two years ago. I have no siblings, so nothing’s waiting for me there. Besides, I like it here. You’ve got seasons. All we get is summer all year long.”

“Sinner!” Allie squeals, pointing her finger at him. “You’ve no idea what I’d give to have the sun out all the time.” She grabs Adam’s hand. “Just think about it, babe! It’s January, and we’re sunbathing by the pool.”

Adam’s not thrilled by the idea, but he pulls her in for a sweet kiss. Jealousy gnaws at my mind like a woodworm. I never realized how good kissing is, but now that I know what it feels like, I crave Dante’s lips more than his attention.

I’m halfway through my first glass of wine, but the guys are already done with their third drink. At this pace, I don’t have to worry about the evening lasting too long.

“How about we hit a nightclub after dessert?” Adam suggests, pushing his empty plate aside.

My eyebrows hit my hairline. A similar sentence never left his mouth during the six years I’ve known him. Even Allie looks surprised, but Aaron’s all game.

“Yeah, sure. I hear Delta’s the best club in the city. We could go there.”

Adrenaline rush courses through my bloodstream at the thought of seeing Dante.

And then I grit my teeth when frustration takes over. The bouncers won’t let Adam into Delta, and Adam himself would never try and set a foot inside anyway.

“Everywhere but there,” I say, pressing the cool rim of my glass to my lips.

“Why?” Aaron asks. “Something wrong with that place?”

“We won’t get in,” Allie says. “Well, no one but Layla.”

Aaron waits for an explanation, eyes fixed on me. I glance at Adam for help, unsure how much I can divulge, and catch him nod once in a way that indicates no filters are necessary. Either he trusts Aaron, or Frank wants to find out how I feel about Dante now.

The latter, probably.

I rest my elbows on the table, crossing my legs. “Do you know who my father is?”

“Yeah. Everyone knows who your father is, Layla.”

“Then you should also know who owns Delta.”

Aaron draws his eyebrows together. “Dante Carrow…”

“Exactly. My father’s men aren’t allowed there because my father and Dante aren’t too fond of each other.”

“That doesn’t explain why you’ll get in.”

There’s no concealing the smile that curls my lips. “Let’s just say Dante has a soft spot for me. Although I doubt the security would let me in tonight. Not after how I treated their boss a while back.”

Adam twitches in his seat, the vein on his neck throbbing. “You’ve not heard from him since the dance studio?”

“No. I’m a smart girl who fulfills her Daddy’s wishes, right? I told Dante to leave, and he did.”

“Hey! What about Copacabana?” Allie changes the subject, uncomfortable with the tense atmosphere. “They’ve got like DJ playing on Fridays.”

Adam excuses himself from the table, disappearing outside with a phone to his ear.

Snitch.

Dancing the night away with Aaron might positively affect my mood, so I agree with Allie and ignore the sinking feeling in my stomach. By the look of him, he’s very much into me, and after another hour at the restaurant, his eyes no longer remind me of another green-eyed man.

Aaron twirls me around his hand on the dance floor in Copacabana as if I’m a rag doll.

Salsa, samba, rumba, cha-cha, and from the top again.

Thirty minutes later, we head back to the table on aching feet. A mist of sweat covers my neck, but a full-blown smile stretches my lips too. Aaron’s an excellent dancer. I have no trouble reading into the subtle clues he sends, letting me know what’s coming next. We formed a bond while dancing, and the mutual understanding is why I’ll agree to a second date if he offers. There’s also the bonus of not thinking about Dante when Aaron’s around… using him to erase the boss of South Chicago from my system might be cruel, but as it’s working well, I push my scruples aside.

Adam didn’t bribe the bouncers to get us into a VIP box when we arrived, which is odd considering he prefers not to mingle with the crowd. He’s been acting strange all evening, subtly digging for information about Dante as I grab a drink, setting the glass down once it’s empty. When my breathing stabilizes, I take Aaron back to the dance floor.

“I’ve not had this much fun in a long time,” I say after twenty minutes when my legs are too weak to dance.

“My pleasure. Go back to Allie. I’ll get you a drink.”

Adam’s alone at the table, drinking his Budweiser, eyes on the crowd of dancing bodies.

“Where’s Allie?” I ask.

“Toilet. We need to get going.”

“We just got here!”

“We’ve been here for an hour, Layla. Allie’s not feeling well, so I’m taking her home.” He looks around as if checking for eavesdroppers. “I want to trust you, Layla. If I let you stay here, will you promise you won’t flee to Delta?”

He’s thinking about leaving me here without a nanny?

What happened to his principles?

I nod before he thinks the idea through. “I promise.”

The unwanted date turned into a pleasant night. It’s still early, and I don’t want to go home yet, hoping I can take Aaron dancing again once I regain feeling in my legs. He’s kind, handsome, heterosexual, and his company soothes my cluttered mind. What more do I need?

The answer flashes before my eyes, but I lock Dante in a small, dark room in my subconscious, bolt the door and throw away the key. That should keep him from poisoning my thoughts.

Adam gets up, and thanks to his six-foot-eight height, he looks over hundreds of heads, searching for his girlfriend. “If anything happens, you call . Only , Layla.”

“Nothing will happen. Dante hasn’t contacted me in two weeks. I doubt he’ll suddenly start looking for me all over the city. Relax.”

He shoots me a skeptical look and, without another word, turns around, disappearing into the crowd.