Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 109033 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 545(@200wpm)___ 436(@250wpm)___ 363(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109033 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 545(@200wpm)___ 436(@250wpm)___ 363(@300wpm)
Not at all. He would surely have otherwise hinted at it, or at least asked if she was into art.
Let’s keep it that way.
Oh, he’s leaving, she noticed. I guess he’s done with the questions.
He might nose around for a little longer. Be on the lookout.
I will.
“Everything okay?” Harper asked, gesturing for Naomi to settle on the recliner.
“Yes,” Naomi replied, taking a seat. “I was just having a little telepathic chat with Tobe.”
“Ah, how’s he doing? Still far too reckless for his own good?”
“Oh, totally.”
The sphinx gave a soft snort, her reflective blue eyes swirling as they shifted to an oak brown—they changed colors frequently. “That’s no shocker. Well, you ready for this?”
“More than.”
Staring down at the sniveling male on his office floor, Luka ordered, “Get him out of here.”
Two of his demons snatched the beaten hellbull up by his arms, making no effort to avoid his injuries. His answering whimper was music to Belial’s ears—it had briefly participated in making the bastard bleed.
Once the hellbull had been dragged out of the room, Luka turned to a security guard who manned the entrance to the gambling den. “I highly doubt he’ll come back to Infernal. If he does, be sure to express what an exceptionally bad idea it was.”
“With pleasure,” said Abe, no happier with the motherfucker who’d tried blackmailing one of their waitresses. “I’ll spread the word that he’s banned.”
Luka cut his gaze to Valen, one of his sentinels. “Dig up whatever dirt on the hellbull you can find. Expose it to his nearest and dearest.”
It was only fair, considering the bastard had threatened to do the same thing to the waitress if she didn’t feed him information about Luka. A beating wasn’t enough of a punishment.
Valen gave a curt nod. “It’ll be done.”
His jaw hard, Luka stalked out of his office and strode toward the private stairwell. The buzz that came with the release of violence rode his system, flooding his veins and sharpening his senses like adrenaline.
With his bodyguards at his heels, he descended the stairwell until he arrived at the second floor. The guard manning the door there opened it wide with a respectful nod.
Luka prowled into the den’s luxury VIP area, aware of the brothers still following close behind him. Gentle lighting rained down from the glimmering chandeliers above him. Soft patterned carpeting ran throughout. Velvet sofas in shades of royal blue or soft lilac were dotted around, always accompanied by backlit tables. The chrome bar was a shorter version of the one situated beyond the roped-off set of steps that led to this section.
The classy feel continued in the main area, with its leather sofas, strobe lights, and purple and blue LED uplighting.
There was chattering, glasses tinkling, alarms pinging, machines blooping, dice tumbling, and dealers calling out. The air-conditioned air bore the scents of cologne, perfume, citrus freshener, alcohol, and hot machinery.
He swept his gaze over the den, not worried he’d find anything untoward occurring. For one thing, the guards monitoring the place via the domed cameras never missed a thing. For another, it was rare that any problems cropped up. People weren’t exactly eager to piss off legions.
The exclusive den had many, many members. Some occupied themselves at roulette wheels, card tables, or the brightly lit slot machines. Others lounged around sipping drinks. Then there were those who preferred the basement, which featured fighting cages.
Luka immediately claimed the L-shaped sofa he routinely chose. The twins joined him, seating themselves on either end of the piece of furniture.
A smiling waitress appeared almost instantly. Though not the waitress who usually worked this corner of the VIP area. “Can I get you any drinks?” asked Draya.
Luka waved off the offer of a drink while the brothers politely declined too.
Still the banshee lingered. “I take it you dealt with the hellbull?” she prompted softly, moving closer.
Luka inwardly sighed. A relatively new employee, the curvy blonde caught male attention easily. And yes, she’d initially snagged his. She’d also flashed him plenty of invitational smiles, making her interest in him clear.
Luka had gone no further than mild flirtation due to having only recently ended a brief fling. He had planned on making a move eventually, but then he’d laid eyes on Naomi, and his interest had shifted. Though Draya had sensed that shift, she persisted in flirting with him.
“I did.” His response was curt. Invited no further conversation. Most people scurried away when he spoke in that tone. To her credit, she didn’t let it chase her off, though a hint of nerves showed in her body language.
“And I’m confident that you made it hurt. Are you sure you don’t want a drink?” she offered, a suggestive note to her voice that said it wasn’t all she was offering.
“I’m good.”
She licked her lips, seeming uncertain. “Call me bold, but you don’t look it. Is there nothing at all I can get you?”