Page 19 of Vendetta

I clicked the link.

While I scrolled from unoccupied room to unoccupied room, I snatched up her discarded panties, stuffed them in my pocket, and headed out of my penthouse and down the elevator to the basement. I needed to have a discussion with Ollie about not letting long-legged brunettes wander out of my apartment unsupervised.

The elevator dropped, and the doors slid open to the security office, but the desk was vacant. A wall of screens showed every inch of my empty club and parking lot, but no one was on duty. That wasn’t surprising this early in the day, but sometimes Ollie liked to work outside of normal business hours.

If he wasn't there, he was probably asleep. I left the office behind, striding deeper into the warrens of the basement. Thick black carpet and velvet-lined walls led the way. My attention turned back to my phone.

I'd scrolled past the common areas, the perimeter guarded by alphas with machine guns, and into the secure areas. Bedrooms flashed by with the slide of my finger. Concrete rooms with chains hanging from the walls and drains in the floors stared back at me, but I kept scrolling. I smirked as I walked past a couple of locked doors with similar things behind them. We must have the same decorator.

Just before I reached the last door at the end of the hallway, I saw her. My feet stopped moving. Even in the black and gray of the night vision camera, her tan legs were a stark contrast to the white bedding she was curled up on. Her slender hands clutched the collar of the hoodie she was wearing.

My hoodie.

She held on to it like a lifeline, breathing it in, and there was something about that I liked. I glanced at the door to Ollie's apartment before pulling the scrap of paper I'd been holding on to from the pocket of my trousers.

I should absolutely not be doing this.

I punched the number into my phone and pressed the text icon. Fuck, I felt like I was in high school again for a split second before I started typing.

Nico: You have something of mine.

I smiled to myself and flipped back to the camera feed. She squirmed in the deep bedding, then rolled over to find her phone lighting up the dim space. Her teeth caught her lower lip, pressing a divot into the pillowy softness I remembered so vividly from the night before. Her scent clung to me, and it only made me want her more, to touch her, to taste her. My hand slid into my pocket, gripping her panties, and my cock ached and strained at the barest contact. Fuck.

Her brows drew together as she read my text, and then her thumbs flew across her screen.

Her text flashed across the top of my phone's display.

Rosalina: I'm sorry, who's this?

I smirked and adjusted myself in my slacks. As if she couldn't guess.

The way she stared at her cell, waiting for a reply, told me she had an idea of who it might be. I could wait. She'd figure it out.

I didn't take my eyes off the camera feed as I ran the flat of my palm down the length of my cock, imagining her hands on me instead.

Her thumbs went back to typing, and the corner of her lips turned up.

Rosalina: Oh, from last night? Yeah, I'm sorry I took your hoodie. I can try to get it back to you.

She watched her screen intently, hugging the sweatshirt tight to her chest. Her lids dropped as she took another deep inhale of the collar, holding it in like a drug. She was loving it, and so was I.

Nico: I was talking about your pussy. You can keep the hoodie.

Her eyes widened, but her hand skimmed down the curves of her body to the hem and lingered at the edge of the cloth. Her thighs moved, rubbing together, and then ever so slowly they parted, just enough for her fingertips to disappear into the shadows.

Good girl.

She paused and returned to her phone, her fingers dancing over the keys.

Rosalina: I don’t even know your name.

In the cold glow from her phone screen, I could just make out the shy smile that turned up the corner of her lips when she typed that out, and the deep rise of her chest as she breathed in my scent again. My pheromones were thick on that sweater, Cruz’s too. I’d worn it to the gym the day before she’d stolen it. I knew exactly what that breath would hold, and from the look on her face, she reveled in it.

But should I give her what she asked? Should I give her my name? Would she realize who I was if I did? Did I care? I could use an alias, but fuck it. I wanted my name on her lips as her fingers dipped under the hem of my hoodie and disappeared between her legs again.

Nico: it’s Nico.

I watched the camera feed and saw the moment my reply lit up her phone, but her eyes had already fallen closed. She’d find it soon enough.