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“Is it time to wake up?”

Ilaria didn’t even open her eyes as she held onto the pillow that I had been sleeping on and it took all my strength not to climb back beside her and curl up with her in bed to get her to go back to sleep.

“No. You get your beauty rest, princess.” It wasn’t the teasing tone I had taken with her before but genuine want for her to be comfortable.

She made a sound at me, rolling over as she presented me with her back, it was obvious she didn’t think I was being real with her.

“Go fuck yourself, Demon.” She muttered as she rolled over onto her stomach and groaned out as she kicked her feet as she tried to get comfortable again in bed.

Did she know how cute she was?

If I was her Demon she was my angel.

And maybe that shouldn’t have made me smile in the way it did, but my lips curled up as I licked them, having to raise my fingers to wipe the smile off my lip that she had managed to get on it without even trying.

I was screwed.

Stepping out of the room I headed to the gym, half debating on pushing the breakfast meeting back so Ilaria could sleep in but remembering I still needed to head over to make sure everything was ready for Dante’s Inferno to open tonight.

I needed to do a walkthrough, just to make sure everything was as planned. Check the guest lists to make sure that the VIP’s that would be heading down to explore all the layers of the inferno had been properly vetted to be down there. Double check the menu to make sure everything was up to par.

Security would need to be increased with Ilaria coming with me.

The club was set up so people would enter into an open area where they could drink and sit around having appetizers to start their evening. If they wanted dinner that was through a separate room, up stairs the views were slightly better of the city from the dining room. It had been styled after 1950’s cocktail lounges.

Deep read drapes over windows and black leather booths lined the room for couples to curl up together in or for men to make business deals around.

The center of the dining room was decadent with white linens and black leather chairs.

The chandeliers had been antiques imported from Italy and instead of lights hanging with hundreds of candles. It was the type of place you take a date to impress them, something that felt romantic and intimate. If after dinner they needed something else for their appetite they would head downstairs.

Set up like a glamorous speakeasy, the brick walls downstairs were met with emerald green leather and gold ornate decorations. Heavy drapes and a live band played music as local performers sang on stage. It had that old Hollywood glamor feel. Couples could dance together on the black and white checkered dance floor.

It felt like a nightcap for a date. Something classy to share with someone.

But if glamor wasn’t the entertainment that they were looking for, the next floor down was an illegal gambling business that had been the reason my father had been okay with me doing this project.

This would be the link for the family.

This is where the VIP’s needed to be fully vetted. Not only did we need to make sure they were good for their buy-ins at the tables they were playing at, they had to not be rats.

The last thing we needed was an undercover busting us.

After the gambling floor, there would be a men’s only section of the club.

There was a boxing club for men on the fifth floor down. They could come during the day to spar or enjoy a drink and a cigar with the boys. A place where gentlemen could start to make deals that would run businesses.

This was the part of the club that would pan out to business deals and make me a lot of money.

The final level would have women again but only the ones I hired. It wasn’t a place to take a date or a wife.

Girls danced on onyx metal poles, deep red chairs tufted in expensive leather were placed around the room. A bar was set up in the corner where top shelves of liquor and cigars could be bought.

On stage entertainment was a mix of burlesque and stripping, the girls didn’t do lap dances but provided bottle service at tables. It wasn’t a flesh trade but a fantasy market that I hoped sold well and made people want to spend more money.

Tonight was the night the biggest business I was in charge of was going to be starting and that was a huge deal. I wanted to prove to everyone I could build something all by myself.

I had been shocked when she had printed the forms, someone else’s signature on the bottom had been confusing but I figured she would explain why her name wasn’t on them. Part of me was thankful her name wasn’t tied to the club; she would be on my arm tonight at ribbon cutting and the last thing we needed was a corruption case on opening weekend to be in the news.

“Where is the coffee?”

I looked up from where I was doing pushups on the mat to see Ilaria standing in the door frame, rubbing the sleep from her eyes as she pouted.

Part of me expected Ilaria to not be a morning person.

I had expected to get to workout and do some business before she got out of bed. Not that she looked too excited to be awake and she definitely wasn’t fully done with wiping the sleep from her eyes yet.

“I usually go out and get-”

She made a sound in the back of her throat that was full of annoyance and a whine, giving me a glare as she turned, storming out of the room.

My answer was not good enough for the little princess.

It wasn’t even 6:30 AM yet and she was already getting on my nerves from her stomping around.

Following behind her, I watched her slide on her gym shoes, picking up her bags and snatching her car keys off of the table but I wasn’t going to let her just grab her stuff and escape that easily.

Now that we were engaged, there were certain expectations of us and I needed to make sure that Ilaria not only understood what they were but how important her role was in everything that was happening. Without her on my side this was all going to go straight to hell in the worst way possible.

Are sens

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