Chapter 38: 26| Roulette-2

The Ricci case in itself was a mystery with almost no leads, not a single witness, and no evidence. The suspect didn't leave a single clue because it was all destroyed and burned with the victims in the house fire. It wasn't just an arson case. It was murder. My eyes scanned over one of the articles printed in front of me once again, stopping at a particular line. There was a mention of a club, in fact, a gentlemen's club located in New York City. I realized that the majority of the suspects who were investigated twenty years ago and then let off due to a lack of evidence were all members of the same club. The Hunt. Hastily, I grabbed the stack of papers that had a profile created for each suspect and I read through them again, noticing how the club popped up at some point in every suspect's profile. So far, I was looking at far too many suspects and the only way to narrow them down was to investigate this club. I wasn't even sure if it still existed since twenty years had passed, so I turned to my laptop and started digging into it. Sure enough, it stood in the same exact spot on fifth avenue. Admission and entry into the club required a special invitation and to get membership, one had to have good networking and connections with existing members. The club hosted events and parties every weekend where members were permitted to bring their own dates and throughout the week, only men were granted access. Checking the time on my phone, I realized it was nearly evening and the event would start at eight o'clock. That left me with two hours to make a plan, get dressed and reach the club. "Sorry, Donna," I mumbled, lifting her off my lap and setting her on the counter, "change of plans tonight." Organizing the papers, I took them back to my room with my laptop and then moved toward my closet, grabbing a suitable dress. Did I have a date to get access to the club? No. Did I have an invitation? Also no. Hence, I had no fucking clue how I would slip past the tight security The Hunt apparently had but the priority was reaching there on time. Once the event began, sharply at eight, the doors would be shut and even members would no longer be allowed to enter. It didn't sound like a place men went to have fun, it sounded like a place they went to kill or be killed, to make plans and deals, to bet on lives and murders. Perfect then. On time, I finished getting ready and slipped into my dress. Leaving my hair in loose waves down my back, I kept the makeup simple yet classy and slipped pearl earrings on. I stepped back and took one last look in the mirror. The black dress ran down to my ankles and every inch of the velvet fabric hugged my body perfectly, accentuating my curves and caressing the dip in my waist. Slightly thicker bands ran from my shoulders to the back of my neck, creating a halter neckline that brought just enough attention to my chest and décolleté. Slipping into matching black Louboutins, I grabbed my phone, a clutch, and my keys, and then left. Following directions, I arrived at The Hunt with ten minutes to spare. Those ten minutes were all I had to find a man who would be dumb enough to take me with him and then forget about me. Climbing out, I took a deep breath and leaned against the hood of my car, waiting and watching. With each minute that passed, I feigned more urgency and annoyance, checking the time repeatedly. A few men noticed but most of them already had a woman on their arm. I'm running out of time. "Can I help you, Ms…?" he trailed off. Lifting my gaze, I found a middle-aged man standing before me. He wore a simple black tux but the gold wedding band on his finger told me he was married. The salt and pepper hair told me he was old enough but too old. "I'm waiting for my date," I said, "I was asked to meet him here but…" I lost focus, my eyes darting to a familiar car that pulled up. "There he is," I lied before I could even think, "I'm sorry for wasting your time," I smiled, quickly rushing to the car. The door opened and Dante stepped out while buttoning his suit. Was he dumb? Absolutely not. But he had to do for tonight. As he shut the door and locked the car, I practically ran over and blocked his way. Spinning around, he took a sharp breath and halted. "Amara," he greeted. "Dante," I said, pulling on a grin, "do you have a date?" "Excuse me?" "Answer quickly, I don't have time. Do you have a date with you?" He stared at me blankly. "No," he said slowly, warily. "Good. If you did, you would have just lost me my only chance. I'll be your date, don't worry." Standing beside him, I swiftly linked my arm with his. "What are you doing?" he asked, staring down at me. I stared back at him. "Working." He paused but fell into step beside me as I tugged forward and started walking toward the entrance. "Does Tristan know you're here?" he asked quietly. "Tristan doesn't need to know. I don't belong to him," I said softly, keeping my gaze ahead. "I don't need a date, Amara," he replied. "No," I agreed, "but I do." Shooting him a pointed yet pleading look, I prayed he would comply. "Please," I whispered, "this is important. I'll be out of your hair the moment we get inside." The two of us were stopped at the entrance by guards. "Your name, sir?" the guard asked Dante. "Dante Rossi," he answered. "And the lady?" he questioned, turning to me. "The lady is only here for tonight. I refuse to disclose her name," Dante said before I could answer. "Then you take full responsibility since she's accompanying you?" he asked. "Yes," Dante confirmed. They stepped aside after checking Dante's name off the list and let us in. "You're allowed to do that?" I whispered, "keep my name undisclosed?" "Lots of men like to bring their mistresses to The Hunt for events and won't risk their wives finding out who the other woman is. And since this is your first time here as my date, yes. First and last, Amara," he said, leading the way. "I'll let you go in a second. I just have one question," I mumbled, "what exactly do you do here?" "Lots of things," Dante answered, "everyone's here for their own reasons." We came to a halt at the bar. "What do you do here then?" I asked. "Me?" he questioned. I nodded in return. "I come here to gamble on lives." "Hmm?" I stared at him in confusion. "We play Russian Roulette," he smirked. Russian Roulette… just fucking great. . . . . . Chapter 26 !