Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 102184 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 511(@200wpm)___ 409(@250wpm)___ 341(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102184 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 511(@200wpm)___ 409(@250wpm)___ 341(@300wpm)
People love scandals.
Swan is the first person I see when I descend the stairs and reach the main level of the club. It’s like my eyes automatically seek her out in any situation.
She’s gorgeous, sure. But I’m not the type of man to be distracted by a pretty face.
“Hi, Mr. Huxley,” Swan says as she passes by me, cocktails in hand.
I don’t have time to answer her before she’s standing at a table with two men, handing out the drinks. I observe the way they ogle her, and I want to rip their eyes out of their sockets. She’s unfazed by the men leering at her, and it’s fucked up the way my thoughts turn to her boyfriend, wondering what he’d do if he were standing right here.
My anger kicks up, and I push the thought of her boyfriend deep down. I don’t need to know anything about that fucker to know I already hate him. He has no problem with Swan working here. She even said she’d fuck other guys if it paid well enough, and that thought enrages me. Her boyfriend would be ok with that?
I wouldn’t be.
“You look like you’re thinking hard about something,” Swan says as she passes by me again. Her smile instantly calms my furious thoughts, and I smile back at her.
“I’m fine,” I tell her, knowing I need to get away from her before I end up telling her everything going through my mind.
“If you say so,” she singsongs before she makes her way into the server station.
I follow her, even though I shouldn’t. “What does that mean?”
She spins around to face me. She’s so pretty, with her hair piled up in a messy bun on the top of her head. There are a few loose tendrils floating down around her face, and I slide my hands in the pockets of my slacks so I don’t tuck them behind her ear. “I meant nothing by it. I’m sorry.” Her mood shifts and she drops the smile. “I’m sure you’ve got a lot on your mind with everything…” Her words fade away, and I know she’s talking about the murders.
I wish I could get through one conversation where it doesn’t lead right back to the murders. I’m upset with myself because I feel like the answer is hanging right in front of my face, but I can’t see it.
“I’m fine,” I repeat.
She nods and grabs a martini off the bar to deliver to one of her tables. My attention stays focused on her until I spot the Chekov brothers out of the corner of my eye. They are hard to miss. Both are built like linebackers, and even though they’re not heavily involved with Daddy’s business, they both take advantage of their father’s wealth and power.
“You have a new girl?” Dimitri follows my line of sight.
“She’s just a cocktail server,” I say, hoping to deter any ideas about asking her to join them in a room.
“She’s beautiful,” Vlad says. “I love blondes.”
Possessiveness works its way through my system, tightening my shoulders. They wouldn’t have a chance with her. Dimitri and Vlad are good-looking guys, I guess. If you’re into scary dudes. They both remind me of Dolph Lundgren, the Swedish actor who played the Russian in Rocky IV. Blond hair, cut close to their scalp. Blue eyes. A mean scowl on their faces.
“She’s off-limits,” I say in a commanding voice that I shouldn’t be using. I’ve never once been territorial over any woman, but tonight I’m feeling that way toward Swan.
I despise the way they look at her like she’s fresh meat straight from the slaughterhouse. Vlad’s blue eyes lower, and I can tell he’s staring at her ass.
I clench my hand into a fist, not wanting to get into a fight here. I can’t. As much as the Chekov brothers annoy me, I can’t start a fight with the Russian mob. Not now. Not ever.
“Are you heading into your usual room?” I ask them.
The brothers enjoy watching women dance for them while they party with their friends. After they drink enough alcohol to push them past the legal limit, they screw around with whatever girls are close enough to them. Usually, it’s a woman from their personal party, but occasionally, they like to play with the Greedy Girls.
Vlad nods. “We’re entertaining new guests.”
“I’ll leave you to it,” I say, moving away from them so they can get to their party and stop watching my new hire.
It’d be ideal to ask them what they know about the murders, find out if they had problems with any of the dead Greedy Girls, but I don’t want to speculate about whether they are telling the truth. I need facts, so I pull my phone from my suit jacket and send a text to Adele, asking to see the complaints file again. It’s possible I missed something the first time I went through it.