I couldn’t breathe.
I really couldn’t.
Air was flowing into my mouth, but I couldn’t seem to get it into my lungs.
Was this how I was going to die?
Running out of the O’Donnelly NYE party while everyone was in full celebration mode had been surprisingly easy considering I was gulping down air like a dying fish.
Or maybe they were just glad I was gone.
Did they know?
"You’re Padraig O’Donnelly’s illegitimate daughter, Jen, and I have the DNA test results to prove it."
Savannah had betrayed me to get those DNA test results. She’d lied about how we met. She’d lied about everything.
My cell buzzed. I almost didn’t hear it with the loud raucous cheers of the crowds as they celebrated in the streets.
Luciu: Happy New Year, cara mia.
I stared at the message, stared at it long and hard, and suddenly, I could breathe again.
Air flowed.
My lungs sucked it up.
My back to the wall in the alley I was hiding from Savannah in, the bitter cold sinking into my bones, I stared at his message.
Me: Where are you?
The second I sent it, I regretted it.
Cursing myself for a fool, I huddled into my coat, but even the wicked wind chill didn’t numb my panic.
Savannah, my BFF, was a liar.
My dad was an Irish mobster.
Luciu: Russu
Luciu: Come dance with me? The guards know to let you in if you turn up at the club.
Dance?
No.
I didn’t need to dance. I needed something, anything, to stop this panic.
Fucking.
That would work.
I wanted to forget.
I knew he’d help me with that.
Not answering his message, I arranged for an Uber to collect me.
I needed another one of those orgasms Luciu was so good at handing out.
Stat.