"Uh, okay." I don't know what else to say. Naz kisses my cheek, whispering he'll be right back, as he follows Raymond to the edge of the dance floor. They chat quietly before embracing and going their separate ways.

Naz strolls back over to me, his eyes scanning my face. He pulls me back into his arms, acting as if we weren't interrupted.

"Do you know who that man is?" I ask, unable to help myself. I keep my voice low, not wanting anyone to hear me, especially not Raymond Angelo. He's notorious. He's dangerous.

How could Naz not know?

He pulls back to look at me. "The better question would be do you know who he is."

"Of course," I whisper. "He's a gangster."

Naz makes a face at my choice of word. "He's an opportunist. A businessman."

"He's a criminal."

"Says the little jailbird."

"I'm nothing like him. I drink, sure, okay, but he…"

"He what?" Naz asks. "What does he do?"

"He hurts people."

"He does," Naz admits. "But he's also family."

I stop moving. "You're related to him?"

"Not all family is blood, Karissa. Remember?"

I gape at him as those words sink in. I guess there's a reason he fears no one in the city. The ones most people are terrified of are the same ones he calls family.

"Are you okay?" he asks, that chilling look back in his eyes as he regards me. "Tell me if you're not."

Am I okay? Jesus, I don't know. I probably shouldn't be, knowing what I know, remembering what my mother told me, but I'm more surprised than anything. After a moment I nod, and he pulls me closer to him for a kiss. The feel of his lips relaxes me, tingles creeping down my spine. It's a kiss of reassurance, a kiss telling me I'll be fine.

I choose to believe it.

I don't want to think otherwise.

He smirks when he pulls back, running his pointer finger across my bottom lip. "I reserved us a room upstairs. How about we make the most of tonight?"

The room is modest, the furniture outdated and antique, but it has a certain charm to it, like I've stepped back half a century. Naz switches the bedside lamp on to the lowest setting, a soft glow swaddling the room. It adds a golden hue to the already golden fixtures, illuminating the tan carpet and matching bedspread.

I stroll through the room, over to the vast window. We're high up, giving me a wide view of the city, the lights twinkling in the night. I feel like I'm in another place, living another existence, breathing some other sort of air as I stand here, looking at the world from a different point of view.

It's hard to believe, three miles away, my life waits for me to return to it come morning. I'm Cinderella, wondering if I'm destined for a happy ending after this.

Naz pulls his jacket off and sets it aside as he strolls over to stand behind me. My gaze shifts from the skyline to his distorted reflection in the glass as he reaches for the zipper of my dress and tugs on it. The sound seems magnified in the silence as he pulls it the whole way down, his rough knuckles grazing my spine.

It sends a chill through me.

He pushes the dress forward, off my shoulders and down my arms, letting it drop to the floor like it's nothing. I stand there wearing only a lacy thong, almost the exact shade as my skin tone.

The woman reflected back at me in the cold glass looks stark naked, completely exposed and bared for him. It's peculiar, seeing myself that way. I don't make a habit of checking myself out, but as I watch him stroke my bare arms and kiss my shoulder blade, I actually find what's in front of me beautiful.

Turning to face him, I step away from the dress and kick off the heels, regretting losing those extra inches when I have to push up on my tiptoes to reach his lips. I kiss him softly, wrapping my arms around his neck.

It's a sweet kiss, slow and gentle. My fingertips tremble against his skin.

He pulls back, surveying me. "You sure you're okay?"

I nod slowly. "Why wouldn't I be?"

He offers a slight shrug as his gaze leaves my face and trails down my body. "You want to play around a bit?"

"Yes."

I answer instantly, not even stopping to think what that might mean until he smirks at me. There's a slight sinister pull to it, like a predator spotting prey in the distance. I kiss the corner of his mouth, and try to squelch my flare of anxiety, as he pulls me away from the window and over to the bed. I run my hands down his chest, reaching for the buttons on his vest, but he grasps my wrists. "Uh-uh, did I tell you to do that?"

"You didn't tell me not to."

He pulls my hands away as he leans down, whispering, "Don't."

The lone word is little more than warm breath against my skin, fanning the flames of my desire, kindling the fire deep inside of me. I exhale shakily, but before I can speak, he shoves me away from him and spins me around. I gasp as he picks me up and throws me on the bed on my stomach, straddling my legs and pinning me there.

"Wait," I say, my heart racing. His weight presses on me as he pulls on my panties, tearing them off. "Wait just a second, Naz."

"I don't have a pause button, sweetheart." His voice is chilling, a sense of detachment to it. "If you don't want to play, you know how to stop me. All you have to do is say the word."

"Stop."

"That's not it."

He doesn't stop, and I'm not at all surprised. I knew that wasn't the right word, but I can't say it. I can't use a safe word. Not now, not for this. I can't shout "red" or even "yellow" when all I want is green. When all I want is to feel him inside of me, to have him consume me, to be the air he breathes and the only thing he needs.