Shadows of Deception Ch. 02

"You." She scrambled to button up her shirt again half turning her back to him.

"Me." He took a drag of the smoke and held it in his lungs for a minute before blowing it out. Christ she wanted a cigarette. "We need to talk."

"I didn't say anything." She immediately offered, holding her hands out instinctually as if it would keep him from doing whatever the hell he wanted. "Nothing they couldn't find out on their own."

"Oh, yes, I heard all about your little standoff with our city's finest. Wish I'd have seen it, but I'll settle for a secondhand account." He took the cigarette from his lips and tapped the ashes onto the floor, not caring where they landed. "I must say, I've never seen a woman offer to be put into handcuffsoutside the bedroom." He snickered and the look on her face, how had he known that?

"You know I didn't say anything then what do you want?"

"Well, angel, our situation has changed and things have become a little more complicated. So we need to have a discussion on what happens now." She didn't like how that sounded and the concern must have flashed on her face because he continued. "We need to talk aboutus."

"Us?" She repeated, her voice strained as she nervously crossed her arms over her chest. "As far as I know, there is no 'us'--except for the 'us' that agreed not to say anything about whatever did or didn't happen last week." She made it sound so much more professional than what it actually was.

His chuckle was laced with condescension as he spoke, "I've been keeping an eye on you all week, and I must admit, I'm surprised. You saw three men shot to death, yet you just went on as if nothing happened. Made me wonder, what kind of woman watches a triple murder and doesn't flinch?" His words were meant to undermine her, as though she hadn't been deeply affected by those horrific events.

Belladonna, unyielding, met his patronizing tone head-on, "Oh, you must have missed the show in the shower," She retorted, pushing back against his attempt to belittle her emotions.

He chuckled again and finally took that step forward, "Are you offering an encore?" His voice was low and had that same hard edge to it. Equal parts danger and intrigue, she didn't respond to his question. "If it'll put your fears to bed, I have no desire to harm you, not right now anyway."

"How reassuring." She replied, her voice tinged with sarcasm and a touch of bitterness. He arched an eyebrow in response, then inclined his head, curious about the undercurrent of emotions in her tone.

"As it happens, killing you would only cause more problems. So, let's talk." He turned and walked to her living room, the sound of his footsteps growing farther away. He glanced towards her window and without skipping a beat, he warned, "Oh, and don't even think about the fire escape. Mercer is keeping an eye on it."

Her gaze lingered on the rusty fire escape just beyond her bedroom window, a makeshift balcony of sorts. Intrigued, she decided to abandon the quiet solitude of her room and followed him into the living room. Suspicion danced in her eyes as he headed straight for the cabinet housing her collection of spirits, an intimate insight into her drinking preferences.

With an air of judgment, he sifted through the bottles, a silent critic assessing the contents of her liquor arsenal. The amber glow of a twelve-year-old whiskey seemed to pique his interest, but he eventually shrugged, cracking it open with a satisfying pop, and then opting to drink directly from the bottle. A nonchalant satisfaction crossed his face, prompting him to reach for a glass and some ice. It was impossible to ignore the ease with which he navigated her space, making himself at home as if the familiarity of her surroundings was his own. Just how long had he been here?

"Oh, please. Stop looking at me like I'm the boogie man. I'm not going to bite you."

"Yeah, but will you shoot me?" She hadn't meant to say that out loud.

With an arched eyebrow and a mischievous smirk, he quipped, "Relax, I won't bite." The attempt at humor was evident, but she was both too irritated and nervous to appreciate it. "Angel, when I mentioned that hurting you wasn't an option, I should have clarified: it might not be the smartest move, but it's still very much on the table." He studied her intently, his gaze penetrating over the rim of his whiskey glass. Then, he slid another glass toward her, playfully stating, "It's rude to make company drink alone."

She took the glass and glanced at him quickly before taking a swig, before making a face, she forgot about the bite this stuff had. Fact was she only drank this when things really hit the fan and the last time that happened was six months ago when Jackson left her.

"Ok, so what are we talking about?"

"Why, our future of course." He smirked, but whether that was due to his cocky nature or her reaction to the drink was anyone's guess.

"I'm a little more concerned with the present."

"Fair enough, here's where our present sits: as of right now the police department is in the possession of three bodies in their morgue. Seems my cleanup crew was a little lax about finishing up and let's just say mistakes were made and people..held accountable." There was a hard set to his jaw and the smile that he wore suggested deadly consequences. "And while the cops don't give a damn about those bodies, they do give a damn about their suspect. Can you guess who that is?" She held out her hand and gestured to him. He sucked in a dramatic breath and shook his head. "Close! But wrong." He smirked over his glass as her eyes grew wider.

"Wait. I'm a suspect?" He smiled, pleased that she was seeing the gravity of her situation. "Why the hell am I a suspect? I didn't do anything?"

His chest rumbled as he chuckled deeply at her now, "Is that what you think? Last I checked it was you who started blowing holes in my employees..."

"Th-That was self-defense!"

"Is that what you kids are calling it these days? Hmm, well, A jury might believe you." With his glass empty he poured another. "Maybe not. Seems to me that if you honestly thought you were innocent, you would have gone straight to the police."

Her drink was suddenly the least interesting thing in her hand and she set it down on the counter crossing the room in righteous fury like she forgot just who she was talking to.

"Are you serious? I seem to remember something about removing my face like a cheap Halloween mask if I even so much as talked to the cat that I don't own!"

"Discount. Not cheap." Her jaw dropped at his sheer nerve. "Don't misquote me."

"You threatened me!"

"Yes, I did, angel." He was clearly enjoying her gobsmacked look. "Complications aside, the point is, you were most certainly in the wrong place at the wrong time and the police have footage of my club floors, provided by yours truly, where you do indeed disappear through an 'Employees Only' entrance and you are next seen leaving my club in my private car about half an hour later. Looks very suspicious."

"And they honestly think I had something to do with-!" She couldn't even finish her sentence and her face fell. "There's more isn't there?"

"Benjamin for the smart woman. I'm also spotted on camera going into the back with Mercer and the cameras in the back miraculously malfunction for thirty minutes. And the cameras also happen to catch our friend, Jimmy going into the back. One big happy party."

She killed her drink and realized she needed something else to take the edge off. Her feet on autopilot carried her towards a drawer in her kitchen, digging around the paperclips, stray tampons, and doodads that accumulated, pulling out a small metal case with hand-rolled joints. Slightly shaky hands plucked one up and struggled with the lighter, the damn thing must have been low on butane. Could just one thing go right, today? Roman sighed and walked over, pulling out his own lighter and offering it in an almost gentlemanly manner.

"So, the cops jump to conspiracy to commit murder instead of, what? A gangbang? That's a first." A grin slowly grew across his lips at her statement, she didn't miss it. "Ok." One hand on her temple, the headache was still reminding her it was there but it would soon dissipate from the effects of the cannabis, unlike her present situation. "So, you're here because killing me is more trouble than it's worth, but you're still willing to do it?" He gave a dark nod. "Great, so you're not killing me because you'd rather be lazy."

"I prefer to think of it as the path of least resistance." He looked downright amused at what he was seeing.

She had no reason to believe that what she wanted would sway his mind in any way, but she really didn't have any options. She decided to be frank, hoping a blunt approach would make this easier.

"I don't want to die."

"And I don't want to go back to prison." She swallowed hard, she hadn't realized that Roman had done time too. "Coalhaven Penitentiary isn't exactly the Ritz. So, this is our dilemma."

"You mean, you won't remove my face and I won't rat you out to the police and instead we'll try to get away with a triple homicide like civilized people?"

"You're life and my freedom. We can both cause one another significant trouble, but one of us would no doubt come out better than the other. So, let's work together on this until the investigation gets cold and ultimately forgotten."

"How long till an investigation goes cold?"

"Until something more interesting happens. Here? That could be a few days or a few months, maybe a few years."

She wasn't wild about the concept of being involved with Roman Aurelius for a few weeks, let alone years. She hopped up to sit on the counter and took another drag, holding the smoke in her lungs for a minute before exhaling with a slight cough. She wasn't sure why the gesture struck her but in the moment they seemed less enemies and more mutual acquaintances and she held out the half-smoked joint to him. She was also a little curious as to whether or not he'd even take it.

His gaze flickered from her neutral expression to her extended hand and after a quiet moment of contemplation, he reached out, taking the joint and inhaling deeply.

"You know, I could get you some better stuff."

She scoffed, "I'd like to keep my crimes to a minimum, thanks."

Roman Aurelius was in her apartment, agreeing not to kill her, trying to come up with a solution that benefited them both, and he was smoking her pot, offering to get her better stuff. Weird.

"What's the big question we have to answer to the cops?"

Roman leaned against the counter she was sitting on, "I believe the question is, what were we doing in the back and why did neither of us see what happened to poor Jimmy?"

"Poor Jimmy, indeed..." She scoffed, staring at a fixed point on the wall. "All good lies begin in truth." Roman turned his head slowly with an amused expression.

"Miss Black, you ought to be careful, that sounds like something acriminal would say." He was teasing her, it was kind of charming in a way, like in the way a boy on the playground at recess pulls your ponytail to let you know he likes you. "But you make a good point. So, whatwere we doing in the back of my club?"

"Sometimes the simplest explanation is the best one." He didn't say anything but instead, waited for her to notice he was staring at her with a wolfish grin, the look in his eyes suggesting he knew exactly where she was going with this. Her chest heaved with a sigh of exasperation as she continued.

"I may have mentioned to the police that I was looking for someone to help me forget about my ex."

Roman began to nod slowly, "A tale as old as time." He turned to face her and gave her one of those long looks that made her feel like he was undressing her with his eyes, although he probably was. "So, when next we meet with the police it's as simple as I caught you in the back of my club, someplace you shouldn't have been and you regaled me with your tale of woe. The creep who stalked you and how you were just trying to escape an unwanted encounter. I bet you would be all apologies and offering to leave immediately, wouldn't you?"

Thatdid sound like her, she wasn't one to shy away from a confrontation unless she was absolutely in the wrong, and the scenario they were concocting definitely fit.

"So, you're pissed at me for snooping. What changes your mind?"

He stepped away from the counter, drawing closer to her, and she instinctively moved off the counter as well, feeling the need for terra firma under her feet. Placing his arms on each side of her, effectively trapping her in place, his charm, undeniable allure, and the way he leaned in made it difficult for her to stay angry.

"I'm a man, kitten. How could I resist a gorgeous woman like you in that mini-dress? Changing my mind was inevitable," He murmured, his words laced with a hint of mischief.

A shiver of anticipation ran down her spine as he leaned in even closer, his presence intoxicating, his cologne enveloped her senses, and he smelled good. It was hard not to be drawn in but his magnetic charm.

"We'll tell the police that alone, in that storage room, our attraction was so undeniable that we couldn't resist each other. I took the liberty of disabling the cameras, like a gentleman, ensuring our little rendezvous remained a private party,"

As he hovered near, their closeness became almost unbearable, and yet she found herself unable to resist its pull. The way his body heat enveloped her made her heart race, and she felt herself succumbing to his seductive energy.

"What happens next, I wonder?" he whispered, his lips just inches from hers, teasing and tempting her with the unknown possibilities that lay ahead.

"A little back-of-the-house fun between strangers."

She murmured at his grin, staring intently at his lips she realized she wasn't really afraid of him now. The lawyer was right, if he wanted to kill her, why would he even be talking to her? Now he just seemed like a guy, a rich guy with a flair for the dramatic but a guy. Maybe it was the cannabis-induced calm drifting over her combined with the whiskey.

"Oh, kitten," his chest rumbled again with that chuckle of his and his eyes grew darker. "I like how your mind works." His eyes locked with hers.

Detective Douchebag Craven's question resurfaced.

"So, you want to try again? Tell me, why would someone like Roman Aurelius care if someone like you gets home safely?"

"Why not just throw me out? Aren't women lining up to throw themselves at you? Why me?"

"I've got a revolving door of women who throw themselves at me." He confirmed without hesitation, "And trust me, I've seen them all; the twenty-somethings looking for fast attention, free drinks, and willing to sleep their way through their daddy issues. You can do whatever you want with them and they're so eager to please. They'd drop to their knees and suck my cock in a crowded room if I told them to." He paused, rolling his eyes slightly, clearly unimpressed.

"Then there's the ones looking to relive their squandered youth at any cost. The poor thirty to forty-somethings with three kids, a mortgage, and a husband who doesn't pay them the attention they used to when they were young. There's a lot of fun to be had with those, all I have to do is tell them how beautiful their eyes are and they're putty in my hands. They'd sign their sad little house over to me, empty their savings accounts, leave their husbands, and let me do the most depraved things to them. You have no idea..." He paused and finished his thought with an excessively lewd licking of his lips.

"Women with more plastic in them than a goddamned Barbie doll, and they all have one thing in common; they're all boring." His voice sounded particularly venomous with that last admission, and then he extended his empty glass towards Belladonna, using it as a prop to emphasize his point.

"But you? You're a rare breed. You couldn't care less about what people think of you, and your favorite response is a resounding'fuck off.' Oh, and those daddy issues you try so hard to conceal? I can see them from a mile away, but you'd never let anyone use it against you. You're the'I could tell you, but then I'd have to kill you' type. Or you could be, at least if you had better aim." He paused, his voice lowering, almost as if sharing a secret. "But the real showstopper?" He paused and tilted her chin up to look into her eyes, giving her into place to hide from him. "It's your eyes." He let out a low whistle. "They're dangerous. With just one look, you can make a man do anything to have your attention, bending him to your will. There's nothing fake about you, every aspect feels raw and real, exuding authenticity that leaves a man desperate for your attention."

While his words might have carried the familiar echo of the'not like other girls' sentiment, they provided an oddly reassuring touch. A tenderness colored his actions as his fingers delicately captured a strand of her ebony hair, twining it around his index finger. The way he played with it suggested a deep fascination, as if that solitary strand held the secrets of a captivating enigma.

"That's precisely why I don't show you the door, kitten. I do not incline women who lack interest in me. And make no mistake, you'revery much interested in me. It's why this whole time you haven't been able to take your eyes follow me, you can't look away." His words were punctuated by a smug grin when she failed to do so, a touch he added intentionally, confident in his accuracy.

Her lips parted slightly, a mix of surprise and shock at his audacious words. Uncertainty lingered whether he referred to their playful escapade or the reality between them. In response to her astonishment, Roman offered a hearty chuckle, leaning in as his fingers continued to play with strands of her hair, his breath mingling with hers in a manner that was almost entrancing.

"If I told you to be a good girl and suck my cock, what would you say?"

Her eyebrows shot up and she scoffed, "You mean, what would I say if Ihadn't seen you kill three men?" He winked. "I'd probably tell you to fuck your own face." The room filled with his hearty laughter, a sound that was unfeigned and almost contagious and she felt a little proud of her joke.

"You've got quite a mouth on you, kitten," he said, his chuckle subsiding as his expression turned serious and hungry. "I wonder what else those lips of yours are capable of."

She didn't entertain his notion, didn't bother with a snappy comeback because what was the point?

"Care to take a wild guess at the number of women I've fucked in the back of my club?" She tried to shake her head, unable to fathom the answer.

The disbelief was evident on her face when he responded, "None." It was surprising, to say the least. "The truth is, despite some of myextracurricular activities,"

Murder. He meant murder.

"I ensure that my club operates completely above board. Every aspect of it is one hundred percent legitimate. There isn't a dusty bottle, an out-of-date license, or an underpaid hand in my place. I run a clean house" At that moment, Roman's hard edge returned, but this time it was different. Instead of fear, Belladonna found herself drawn to the raw intensity of his presence. "And trust me kitten, that was the only reason that I didn't hike up thatridiculously short minidress of yours and fuck youraw against the wall. And make no mistake, kitten, Iwould have."

Again, she wasn't sure if he was talking about what actually happened or their imagined scenario.

"So, not a quickie kinda guy," Roman licked his lips and smiled broadly.