Page 25 of Falling for the Mafia Dom
If it weren’t for the Saint Andrew’s cross on the stage, the masquerade masks, and the well-dressed bouncer guarding the black velvet rope at the hallway, this place could easily be mistaken for an upscale bar in the financial district.
Tristan appears stressed as he leans against the bar speaking with one of the servers. Walking myself up to the bar, I order an old fashioned with an orange peel. As the mixologist slides it over the bar to me, I spot Tristan walking in my direction.
“I’m glad you were able to make it, Salvatore,” he extends his hand for us to shake hands, “A man of your stature and experience is especially appreciated here at the club.”
“Experience?” I raise a brow at him, “Is that a polite way of saying that I am old?”
“Fuck no!” A laugh bellows from him, “That would mean that I am old.”
“I have to say,” my eyes travel across the space, “I am quite impressed with what you have managed to do here.”
I hear words coming from him, but I am too distracted by a woman who has been haunting my thoughts entering the club that they don’t register.
It can’t be…
ChapterEighteen
ELLIE
Lyla turns the corner to the club, and we see the massive line of people lined up down the street to get in.
“Um,” my hands gesture at the huge amount of people we are driving past, “we are never getting into this club.”
“Um,” she exaggerates and reaches into the cupholder and pulls out two cards the size of a credit card. Taking them from her, I turn the black cards over in my hand:Club Triskelion VIP.
“VIP?”
“I told you that we were going to the opening of a new club,” her tone is emphatic, and she smirks at me, “And quite frankly, I don’t appreciate that you doubted me.”
“I’msosorry,” I roll my eyes in jest as she pulls up to the valet, complete with a red carpet.
“I accept your apology,” she chuckles with a satisfied grin as the valets, both dressed in stylish suits and masquerade masks, open both our doors.
“Miss,” he takes my hand to help me from the car before saying, “For anonymity on opening night, we are offering complimentary masks.”
“Thank you,” I hesitantly take the mask from him as he walks me toward another man standing behind a podium at a large black metal door.
“Your card, Miss,” he extends his hand. Nervously, I look over my shoulder at Lyla, who is flirting with the valet walking her toward me.
“I have her card,” Lyla thrusts both of the black cards into the man’s bear-claw of a hand. Flipping them in his hands, he scans them both without saying another word.
“Personal guests of Tristan Evans,” his demeanor brightens as he opens the door for us, “Have a great night, ladies.”
“Lyla?” I raise a suspicious eyebrow at her, “Why haven’t I heard about this Tristan guy?”
“You have,” she shamelessly lies to me.
“No, I haven’t,” I eye her knowingly as the realization hits me, “Oh my god! You like him!”
“Shhhh,” a red hue creeps over her cheeks as we pass through the gold curtains into the club.
The vast room before me distracts me from the fact that I was about to pump her for information about this mystery man. It’s dimly lit, like every other club Lyla has ever dragged me to, but that is where the similarities end. There are no strobe lights, no thumping dance music, no sleazy guys grinding on girls on the dancefloor.
Instead, it's classy. Elegant. Upscale. Sultry music plays just loud enough that it doesn’t impede the ability to talk. Luxurious looking leather couches and chairs are well-placed throughout the space with people engaged in conversations.
Even the people filling this space look sophisticated and refined. The majority of the men are wearing well-tailored suits, while the women are in cocktail dresses. Some a bit more tasteful than others. The masks provided by the valets appear to be optional, as only some of the patrons are wearing them.
There is a roped off hallway at the rear of the club with what appears to be another bouncer watching over it. Continuing to scan over the club, I notice the stage has a giant wooden X in the center of it. Squinting, I realize that there are leather handcuffs dangling from the top of it.
