Page 29 of His Kidnapped Queen
“Verynew,” he amends.
“I am,” I whisper. “It’s my first night.”
I’m terrified, if I’m honest. There’s no record of Oscar ever assaulting a woman, but…
Oscar nods. “I’ll show you the ropes, then. He tosses a key ring that jingles to another man standing nearby. “Man the door until Nico gets here.”
The other man nods sharply and stands in front of the door.
Oscar heads out of the small room, and I follow, unsure what else to do.
He leads me through the throng of people to the bar.
“You’ll want a drink before work. Trust me. What’s your poison?”
“Chardonnay,” I answer, and he chuckles, handing me the glass when the bartender pours it.
“Fancy,” he muses.
I hum, looking around. Other than the sounds of shouting and fists hitting flesh, it’s fairly…calm.
The music is loud, but everyone’s either dancing or socializing. There’s no fights or a mad rush to the bar or anything. It’s less dangerous than some clubs I’ve been in.
“Heard this is Nico’s big night,” I say, wanting to name drop so that Oscar buys that I’m in the life, or at least close to it.
Nico’s also the reason I was willing to come. If Luca was running the show, I couldn’t risk him seeing me.
Oscar glances at me from the corner of his eye, not turning toward me. I feel less repulsed by him now, but he’s clearly interested, eyeing my legs.
I’ve read his dossier. Oscar Cortado, leader of the Cortado family. He’s barely thirty-five but his father was killed in an “accident” and ever since he’s been running things.
He loves women and money and doesn’t care who knows it. He runs drugs and guns and he’s never so much as been collared. He’s untouchable, just like the rest of the leaders.
“Nico’s coming, but he’s not running the event,” Oscar says idly.
Why not?
But I clap my mouth shut. I don’t want to ask too many questions too soon. Maybe it’d be smart to get close to Oscar.
“Oh,” I say flatly.
“You got a thing for Nico?” Oscar asks, without turning to me, ordering himself a bourbon and sipping it.
I shake my head. “Nah, just heard he’d be here. I’m kind of…a fan, I guess.”
Oscar turns to me now, his blue eyes brighter. “Is that so?”
He’s catching on, now. Thinking I’m one of the groupies he beds every week.
But I won’t go that far. I won’t sleep with someone for information.
But I’ll make himthinkI will.
I lean in closer, batting my baby blues.
“That’s right. Kind of makes me hot,” I murmur close to his ear.
Oscar hums in the back of his throat, leaning toward my voice.
