Someone was trying to break into my place. Day after day, I swung wildly between terror and recklessness. This morning, I’d been terrified at the break-in attempt. This afternoon, desire had danced through my blood as I looked at Enzo Peron. And tonight, a devil-may-care attitude had seized me. Tonight, I was looking to be dominated. I was looking to lose control, and to forget everything, even if only for one evening. Tonight, the recklessness was a hot flame inside me, burning and consuming me. *** There were two guys at the door of Club Casanova, dressed in black, wearing headphones with identical earpieces. Everywhere in the world, bouncers dressed the same way. “Ms. Blackwell,” one of them said. I was surprised that he spoke English; even more surprised he spoke it with an Irish lilt. “We’ll need your phone. You can collect it when you leave.”
