Chapter 2

Giovanny stared at her. His eyes dropped to her chest, then slowly moved down her arm to her red, swollen wrist.

A dark, violent flash crossed his eyes. It was there and gone in a second.

Clarissa opened her mouth. Her throat was dry. "Giovanny, I can explain-"

He raised a single finger.

The gesture was so small, but it cut off her words like a knife to the throat. She snapped her mouth shut.

Giovanny slowly turned his head. He finally looked at Dwayne, who was now being forced to his knees by two guards.

Dwayne's face was red with anger. "Do you know who my father is? He owns half the real estate in Manhattan! I'll have your badges for this!"

Giovanny let out a low, dry laugh. It held zero humor.

He reached into the inside pocket of his tailored suit jacket. He pulled out a custom, encrypted black phone.

He dialed a single number. He didn't wait for a greeting.

"Activate Protocol Omega on all Boggs assets," Giovanny said. His voice was smooth, deadly calm. "Liquidate their credit lines. Yes, all of them. I want them bled dry before midnight. Now."

He hung up. He slid the phone back into his pocket.

Less than ten seconds later, Dwayne's phone started vibrating violently in his pocket.

Giovanny nodded at his guard. The guard loosened his grip just enough for Dwayne to reach into his pants.

Dwayne pulled out his phone and pressed it to his ear.

"Dad?" Dwayne said.

Even over the heavy club music, Clarissa could hear the hysterical screaming coming from the speaker. The voice on the other end was sobbing, screaming that Wall Street had just pulled every single line of credit the family owned. They were ruined.

All the blood drained from Dwayne's face. He looked like a corpse.

His hand went limp. The phone slipped from his fingers and shattered on the marble floor.

Dwayne looked up at Giovanny. True, primal terror filled his eyes. He finally realized who was standing in front of him.

Dwayne's knees gave out completely. He tried to crawl forward on the sticky floor to grab Giovanny's shoes. "Please. Please, I didn't know-"

Giovanny stepped back. His face twisted in pure disgust.

The guard stepped forward and kicked Dwayne hard in the chest, sending him sprawling backward onto the floor.

"Take the trash out the back door," Giovanny ordered. His voice didn't rise above a conversational tone.

The guards grabbed Dwayne by his collar and dragged him away.

Giovanny turned his attention back to Clarissa. The air between them turned to stone.

Maya groaned from the floor. She pushed herself up onto her elbows, blinking up at Giovanny in a drunken daze. She let out a loud hiccup.

Giovanny looked at Maya. His upper lip curled in revulsion.

"You put yourself in danger for this worthless social interaction," Giovanny said. His words were clipped, hitting Clarissa like bullets.

Clarissa's hands shook. "She is my best friend. I couldn't just leave her here like this."

Giovanny took a step closer. His chest almost brushed hers.

"Clause four of our prenuptial agreement," Giovanny whispered, his voice dark and low. "You have an absolute obligation to maintain the public image of this family."

He looked her up and down. "And tonight, you are fighting at a bar like a cheap escort. You are in breach of contract."

Clarissa bit her lower lip so hard she tasted copper. Tears burned the back of her eyes. The humiliation settled heavy in her stomach. She refused to let the tears fall.

Giovanny raised his left arm. He pulled back his cuff to reveal a Patek Philippe watch.

"It is ten forty-five," Giovanny said.

He dropped his arm. He looked straight into her eyes.

"As a consequence of your actions, your curfew is now eleven o'clock. Every night. Starting tonight."

Clarissa's eyes widened. Her lungs stopped working. "That is insane! I can't even get her home by eleven!"

Giovanny ignored her. He turned his back to her and started walking toward the VIP exit.

Clarissa took two steps after him. Her mind raced. She thought he was going to take them to his car.

Giovanny stopped. He turned his head slightly, looking at her over his shoulder.

"My car does not carry drunks," he said. His voice was completely hollow.

He turned fully to face her. "You will figure out how to handle your friend's mess. And you will be back at the penthouse before eleven o'clock."

He didn't wait for a reply. He pushed through the heavy exit doors, his guards flanking him. He disappeared into the cold New York night.

Clarissa stood frozen.

She looked down at her own watch. Fifteen minutes.

A heavy, suffocating wave of despair crashed over her. Her stomach twisted into knots.

She turned and bent down. She grabbed Maya's arm and hauled her heavy, limp body up.

Clarissa dragged her friend toward the front doors of the club, her heart hammering against her ribs. She was entering a race she already knew she was going to lose.