Page 62 of The Billionaire's Destiny

“I want you to wear my clothes for a show or ad,” Wyatt said, adjusting the top.

I grinned broadly. “Really?”

His expression turned confused. “Why would I say it if I don’t mean it?”

“Wyatt never says anything unless he means it. He’s not from Hollywood,” Xander explained and kissed Wyatt’s cheek. “But no more networking.”

“I’d love to, Wyatt,” I said. “Okay, networking stops now.”

They laughed.

Zane shook his head when we all met him by the door. “Rocco’s going to fire me.”

I frowned. “He most certainly will not.”

“That’s his diplomatic way of saying you’re fire, baby,” Xander said. “I may be disinvited from his Oscars party, but I have another in, so we’re willing to risk it.”

Wyatt laughed.

Zane grimaced. “It’s cold out. Maybe a coat?”

“That’s just more baggage to check, Zane,” Wyatt said to him. “Rocco’s cool. He’ll be happy to see her looking beautiful and sexy.”

Even Xander gave him a side-eye.

“I’ll get someone to bring one to the car,” Zane said and texted. “Everything is set. Let’s go.”

We all rode down to the lobby, and security escorted us out through a staff door. Even without Rocco, the plan was to avoid any paparazzi. A few minutes later, Zane came around with the car, and we climbed inside. “Kiss selfie,” Xander announced. We all made kissy faces, and he clicked the photo, then showed it to me.

“We look like an ad for something.”

“Let’s get in the mood,” Xander called out. “Zane, please put on some dance music.”

Zane turned up the music, and the car thumped with bass-heavy dance tracks none of us could name. We danced in our seats, laughter bubbling up as the city blurred by.

Twenty minutes later, we pulled up to a building crowned with a neon sign: Medusa. Wild snakes glowed above the door. Hip-hop thundered from inside, and we swayed in anticipation while Zane chatted with security. Through metal detectors and a neon-lit tunnel, we entered a vast, tiered hall shaped like a wedding cake. Two dance platforms flanked the room, each with dancers in electric colors, striking poses. The main floor pulsed with shifting lights, casting flickering shadows as the crowd moved to the beat.

“I love this song,” Xander shouted above the music. They grabbed my hands, and we quickly made our way to the dance floor. When the music switched to the hit song “I Started,” I began bouncing, shaking my hips, and moving my arms. Wyatt mirrored my moves, jumping and rolling his hips, dropping, and popping his knees, and dropping and popping his arms.

The music slowed down to R&B, and I walked off the dance floor and stood at the edge, swaying happily in place to catch my breath. Xander and Wyatt held onto each other, and a longing rose inside me. A tap on my shoulder had me turning to a man asking me to dance. I shook my head no and shifted my gaze away from him and over the crowd. Still no Rocco.Where is he?

“Lina?” My name was called close to where I stood. My head rose just as Wyatt appeared before me. The dance music restarted, and he held out his hand, and I took it, walking back with him to the dance floor. Monica and Paola had joined the group, talking and swaying with Xander. They turned to us when we walked up, and I waved. To my surprise, both women came over and hugged me.

“You look sensational, Lina,” Monica whispered in my ear.

“Thank you so much,” I said loudly when we let go. She wore a hot-pink catsuit and platform spikes; her hair was a cotton-candy pink wig.

Xander seized my hand and punched the air, pulling me into the wild current of music and energy. I let go, arms raised, letting the beat carry me. Suddenly, Rocco appeared in front of me, and my heart leapt. He moved closer, the floor vibrating beneath us, his gaze locked on mine in the shifting light. I was ready for anything he wanted to give. The song switched to a bouncy anthem, and the dance floor flooded with people. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught Xander twerking for Wyatt. Dancing could be playful or provocative, but with Rocco, it felt like both.

I twirled around, stirring my hips and arms, then shimmied down to the floor as I swung my hips, pushing my buttocks out, and bounced.My hand moved up to stir the air, then I flicked my hair over my shoulder and turned to look up at him. Rocco had stopped dancing. Just then, a man stepped in front of him and, to my surprise, dropped down behind me.

“Don’t touch me,” I hissed loudly over my shoulder and rushed to my feet. Still, his hands brushed my waist and dropped. The cool air at my back let me know he was gone.

A loud shriek had me turning all the way around just as Rocco dragged him by the back of his shirt. The guy scrambled to his feet. Rocco let go, but the shirt had ripped and was hanging wide open.

“You asshole,” the man screamed above the music. He charged at Rocco; his hands balled into fists and swung wide.Oh no!

Rocco, with his quick reflexes, side-stepped him, making him stumble.