Chapter 33: I’m Not Yours

HAYLEY

Hayley wanted it all to be a bad dream, but it wasn’t. She had ~killed~ a man.

She spent the rest of the night thinking about everything and crying while she cleaned herself, the clothes she wore, the bathroom, and the blade she always carried.

She stashed everything except her knife under the loose floorboard beside her bed, including the damn phone the detective had given her, then hid in her bedroom. Even when Ava and Ben came home, she hid.

She showered again when the sun began to rise, scrubbing herself down, trying to wash the memory of the night before off her body.

She didn’t sleep. She just kept reliving the night in her head—the sound the knife had made as it plunged into the man’s belly, the ultimatum the detective had given her.

She skipped breakfast and just sat at the kitchen counter with a mug of coffee that eventually went cold.

***

As the dressing room emptied out, Hayley sat and applied makeup to her tired-looking skin. She’d had to reassure Ava repeatedly that she was okay, but it was clear her friend wasn’t buying it.

She hadn’t been scheduled to work today—since she was supposed to be getting ready to leave—but she’d made a few calls and was filling in for another bar girl. Might as well get started on the plan.

She knew she had to talk to Siobhan, and soon, but she was dreading it. How would she explain her decision to stay in New York?

Hayley adjusted her red corset and put on her black mask, then headed for the door. She was the last to leave the dressing room. But when she opened the door, she walked straight into a man.

“Hello, sweetheart.”

His voice made her catch her breath, and when she looked up at him, everything stopped.

“Remember me?” His grin was wicked.

She took a step back, and the man followed her into the room and shut the door behind him.

“You?” she whispered, and he nodded.

The man she’d killed was standing right in front of her.

“How—”

“Listen to me, Hayley.” His voice was stern, commanding, but Hayley shook her head, still struggling to process what was happening.

“I’m Max Willows, I’m not dead, and you need to listen to me.”

She tried to run past him, but he grabbed her shoulders and snatched her knife out of her corset pocket, then tossed it across the room.

“Hayley, you have to listen to me.”

“I don’t ~have~ to do anything,” she growled, glaring at the man she had clearly stabbed last night, the man the detective told her was dead.

And then it hit her—Detective Blake had people inside ~already~. “You’re a rat!”

“I prefer ‘informant.’” He sighed. “This is the only room in the Venetian that doesn’t have cameras, so this is our chance to talk. Blake told me how long you have. Do you have a plan?”

“A plan?” She was still in shock that the man she thought she’d killed wasn’t dead! “I haven’t even decided what the hell I’m doing. I can’t lie to Luca.”

And maybe now she wouldn’t have to; since this arsehole was still alive, she couldn’t be arrested for murder.

His face was grim. “Hayley, you have to.”

But she shook her head as relief washed over her. “No, I don’t. Detective Blake has nothing on me. You’re not dead, so I’m an innocent woman.”

But Max just laughed. “You really think a little thing like me being alive will stop Detective Blake? He has a plan A, a plan B, and all the way to Z with you. If you don’t follow this plan, Hayley, he’ll manufacture evidence.

“I bet you had coffee with him, right?” He laughed as her face paled. “Of course you did. He’ll have your DNA, sweetheart.

“He’ll also have a witness to your crime—~hell~, he’ll even have four witnesses if he has to. There will be a body, even a murder weapon. You have no idea the power that man has.

“He has the freedom to do what he wants as long as he gets results. He’s even allowed to kill if necessary.” Max shook his head. “~Now~ do you have a plan?”

Hayley was speechless. She had no idea cops could have so much power.

Max walked over to one of the tables and picked up a mask with a feather on it. “Here. Wear this,” he said simply, and Hayley shook her head.

“Hayley…” His tone was harsh.

But she was still trying to process that he was ~alive~. And that even though the detective had tricked her, she was still trapped.

“I’m trying to help. You only have a month to get on the inside with Luca Marcello.”

“How will that help?” Hayley croaked, looking down at the feathered mask in his hand.

“Jealousy.” Max shrugged. “Luca will hate to see you with this feather.”

Hayley took the mask and held it in her own hands. She stroked the soft feather and traced the fine silver patterns.

“The idea that you’ll be available to other men will drive him wild. Trust me.” He turned to leave, but paused and looked over his shoulder.

“I’m sorry you’ve been dragged into this, Hayley,” he said. “You just need to ~appear~ available. You don’t actually have to go with any man. Though I’m sure you’ll get offers.”

When he left the room, Hayley flopped onto the sofa behind her, staring down at the mask. ~Jealousy?~ If Max thought this would make Luca jealous, he was wrong.

The door opened and Ava came in. “Hayley, come on.”

But when Ava noticed the mask in Hayley’s hand, she shut the door and walked over to the couch, then sat down beside her.

“I was thinking…” Hayley’s stomach was in knots as she spoke. “Maybe it’s not a bad thing.”

“It’s not.” Ava put a comforting hand on Hayley’s thigh. “I was nervous my first night wearing a feather, but the guys down here are respectful, gentle even. Siobhan and Luca make sure of that. And you can say no, too. No force.”

Hayley nodded, then removed her plain mask and put on the feathered one.

“And I’ll look after you.” Ava winked behind her gold mask.

***

Ava was right; it wasn’t too bad. Although her regulars found it strange when she appeared with a feather on the right side of her mask.

Ben was even more shocked by the change. She told him it was to earn more cash, but he didn’t seem at all impressed by her explanation. Hayley just ignored him and got on with her work—getting drinks and getting chatted up.

Max was right too. The offers came flooding in. It was flattering, but there was no amount of money that would entice her into going with any of them.

“You,” Ava said after she jumped off the main stage and approached the bar, “are the most wanted girl of the night. Literally everyone is whispering about you.”

She slid over the bar to grab a drink before hoisting herself up to the podium above the bar.

LUCA

Luca sat alone in his regular booth, brooding about his fucked-up world and nursing a whiskey someone—he wasn’t sure who—had given him.

Today had been an especially tough day. Borroni had been unusually quiet, which unnerved him; his only informant was gone, and a part of him still believed he had traitors in his own camp.

He’d also attended Deano’s funeral.

It was hard going to a funeral when the family hated you. But Luca would do his best for them—the family protects its own, and Deano was, in his eyes, a hero and a true soldier.

“He is not going to like this,” he heard Nic growl, and his ears pricked up.

Nic, Frankie, and Max were standing over by the balcony.

“Yeah,” Max replied. “The guys are practically selling their souls to have her first.”

Luca frowned.

“They love the idea of taking a feather virgin,” Frankie said as he looked down at the club floor.

Max excused himself and left the VIP area, and Nic turned to Luca.

“Boss?” he said, jerking his head to indicate the floor below. “You might want to see this.”

Luca sighed, then pulled himself out of the booth and walked over to stand beside his cousin.

A large crowd was milling around one particular bar—~Hayley’s~ bar—and Luca’s eyes immediately caught on the damn feather she wore.

He growled as jealousy flooded his body, desire hit his core, and anger raged in his chest. What this woman did to him!

He was so preoccupied earlier, he must have walked by her bar and never noticed. Otherwise, he would have pulled her over the counter, thrown her over his shoulder, and carried her out of there.

“The men are throwing out ridiculous prices for her,” Frankie explained as Luca gripped the railing, making his knuckles whiten. “They love a new feather girl.”

Luca knew that Frankie was normally one of those men. But if he wanted to keep his balls, he’d better keep them far away from Hayley.

Luca scowled as she laughed and flirted with her admirers—no, with those ~animals~ who just wanted her for a quick fuck.

“Get her up here, Nic.”

His cousin nodded and left the VIP balcony, then made his way through the crowd around her bar.

HAYLEY

“Bella?”

When Nic caught her eye, Hayley smiled politely at him. She appreciated him not using her real name in front of the customers.

“Bella, can you personally bring up a bottle of scotch and three glasses?”

She glanced up at the VIP balcony and saw Frankie and Luca looking down at her, then turned back to Nic and nodded weakly.

She was a nervous wreck as she crossed the crowded floor and climbed the staircase to the VIP lounge. Her heart was racing; it pounded with every step she took.

She noticed him first. He was standing by the staff-only entrance, his face hard.

Hayley caught Nic’s and Frankie’s eyes and smiled politely at both as she went to place the tray down on the table.

“Hayley.”

His voice made her heart stop. She pressed her lips tightly together before looking up at him.

He jerked his head toward the open door behind him. “Don’t make me ask twice,” he warned, and Hayley’s fiery nature got the better of her.

“You never asked the first time.”

He growled her name again, and she practically slammed the tray down before stalking past him into the short hallway.

Luca followed, then brushed past her to open the door to Meeting Room One. She took a deep breath and entered.

LUCA

Hayley kept her back to him as he closed the door.

“I see you’ve become a feather girl,” he said, trying to keep his cool. But she just shrugged and didn’t turn to face him.

“I don’t need your permission, do I, Mafia King?”

He ground his teeth, holding in the anger that wanted to explode. God, she got under his skin.

She wheeled around to face him. “You don’t own me, Luca,” she said with boldness in her voice.

But her demeanor changed as she walked closer. “Oh, but I forgot,” she whispered, locking her eyes on his. “This is how you ~want~ your women. Am I what you need now? What you want?”

She was trying to sound fierce, but he could hear the pain in her voice.

“How would you like me? Hmm?”

He could see tears brimming in her blue eyes, begging to fall. He felt sick.

She shook her head and tried to walk past him, but he grabbed her arm. “You want a reaction from me?” He kept his voice cool. “You are ~not~ a feather girl, Hayley.”

“Who says?” she spat, violently pulling her arm away and stepping back. “Who says for the right price I’m not somebody’s whore?”

He saw a single tear slide out from under her black feathered mask, and it crushed him. He hated how she spoke about herself, how she was changing. For who, for herself? For him?

“Hayley…”

He stepped toward her, this English girl who had somehow managed to make herself the most important person in his universe, and she stayed frozen to the spot, her eyes wide.

“I’m just another feather girl,” she whispered, and he shook his head.

“No.” She was ~wrong~. She was so much more.

HAYLEY

He raised both hands and gently pushed the mask up over her head, then tossed it on the long conference table behind her.

Her heart raced as he gently used his thumb to wipe away a tear. God help her, she craved this man…

Yet this was still a betrayal.

A few more tears slipped down her cheek as she thought of the vile agreement she’d so naively made with the detective. And now that he had Max spying on her, she was doomed.

“You are not a feather girl,” Luca repeated firmly, yet with a softness to his voice, as he cupped both sides of her face.

She shook her head, but he just pulled her closer to him and kissed her.

For a second she was in heaven, in her happy place, right where she wanted to be.

But even though getting close to him was a necessary part of the plan, the thought of him rejecting her again made her push her hands into his chest and shove him away.

The force knocked her back against the table, and she put her hand to her lips and shook her head.

“I’m not what you want. I’m not what you ~need~. Remember?”

LUCA

He sighed and put his hands in his pockets. “You have no idea what I need.”

It was the truth. ~He~ didn’t even know what he needed. But he sure knew what he ~wanted~—the angel in front of him.

He watched as she picked up her mask off the table and held it in her hands.

“I’m no good for you,” he said gruffly. Yet the devil inside him wanted to touch her, destroy her, make her his.

“I know that.” She shrugged, still looking down at the mask in her hand, before looking back up at him. “Yet I can’t walk away from you.”

“You’re walking into danger.”

She nodded. “I know I am. But I think I’m too far gone to turn around.”

“No.” The image of her with a gun to her head never left his mind, nor did the bullet with her name on it.

But ~God~, he wanted her in his arms, her legs wrapped around his body. He wanted her safe; he wanted her with him.

“Then what do you want?” she asked, her eyes pleading for an honest reply.

The room fell so silent; the only sound was his heart beating. Hayley never lost eye contact with him as he opened his mouth to speak.

All that came out was one simple word.

“You.”