Page 6 of London Has Fallen

“You’re in my seat.” I snap my gaze to the side to see the bartender from earlier standing there with an angry scowl on his face. I furrow my brow when I notice he’s changed, he now wears a white button up and black slacks. My mouth waters at the sight of him, he’s fucking gorgeous. “Move!” he grits out, the tone of his voice pisses me off. All thoughts about hating who I am and not being free dissipate. Because of who I am, I can sit here and plot his murder and know I can get away with it. So instead of moving and obeying his demands, I lean back into the booth and kick my feet on the bench seat, while resting my arms along the back as I stare up at him and smile.

“I kind of like this spot and think I’ll remain where I am, but while you’re standing there you may as well march that fine ass back to the bar and pour me another drink.” If looks could melt the skin off your body, then I would be skinless. I dart my tongue out to moisten my lips in a nervous gesture, suddenly feeling the air around us cool when the look in his eyes darkens.

“You have two fucking seconds to get your dirty ass out of my booth before I throw you the fuck out. I am not a man to be tested.” It’s a strange sort of feeling, having someone speak to me like this. I’m used to being given snide looks and hearing whispers behind my back, but to have someone outright stand before me and speak to me in such a way like I am beneath them is mind blowing. My hesitation must piss him off further as he reaches forward and grips my ankles, yanking me to the edge of the booth. My legs are trapped between his large ones and my face in line with his crotch. I’m forced to lean back and crane my neck back to meet his sneering gaze.

“Who the hell are you?” I ask in astonishment. Never in my life have I ever been manhandled and this, so it is new for me. Call it what you will but this bartender has me intrigued.

He glares down his nose at me, his upper lip lifts in a sneer as his brown eyes spit fire and hatred. “I’m not someone to be trifled with, little girl.” His little girl comment has my feathers ruffled and my anger peaking.

“And I’m not someone you want to make an enemy out of. Haven’t you ever heard that a woman’s scorn is worse than the fires of hell?” As big as he is he moves swiftly without a sound or so much as a flicker of his eyes. His hand bands around my slender neck and forces me back so I’m lying flat on the seat with his hulking form pinning me in place. He presses in closer, so his nose is touching mine. I allow him to think he has the upper hand and truthfully, I need a minute to gather myself because his close proximity is doing things to my body I haven’t had the pleasure of feeling before. His minty breath washes over my face when he exhales, his brown eyes look almost black up close. His black hair has flopped against his forehead and the urge to push it back from his face startles me.

“A woman has no place in my world. If you value your life at all, you will heed my warning and get the fuck out of my club.” The music is loud and the bass is pumping, but he doesn’t need to raise his voice for me to hear. I'm so enraptured with him that he is my sole focus and everything around me has become white noise. “A pretty little girl like you shouldn’t be in a place like this.” His warning is clear and sends a shiver down my spine. I knew this wasn't an average club when I clocked at least a dozen guys in suits with earpieces walking around as I entered.

“You think I’m pretty?” His eyes narrow.

“Don’t test my patience any further. I’m not in the mood.” I smirk and bat my lashes.

“See, the thing is I would believe you but then I can feel how hard you are.” He grinds his teeth in aggression. I expect him to shift or deny my claim but instead he shocks the hell out of me when he grinds his hard cock against my pussy, drawing a sharp gasp from me. The satisfied smirk on his face pisses me off. I don’t enjoy being on the receiving end of someone else's power, I am always the one in control so I turn the tables. I press the blade I had sheathed in my garter into his side, making his eyes widen a fraction and I smile. “You see, the moment you pinned me I drew my blade ready to end you if you did something I didn’t like. You were too focused on asserting your dominance to notice I already had you where I wanted you.”

“Where exactly do you want me?”

The corner of my mouth hikes up as I press the tip of the blade into his side, his face remaining stoic but the slight quiver of his lip tells me he’s worried about what I might do—that is fucking exhilarating. “Beneath you?” A dark smirk graces that fucking gorgeous face, he places his hands flat above my head and leans in closer so his lips ghost over mine.

“If I wanted you, you would know.” He sneers cockily.

“The feeling of your cock against my pussy paints a different picture.”

“Americans, you always think you are superior to others, but the reality is that you would spread your legs for me if I told you to because you all want to see if the rumors are true.”

I keep my brows from drawing in and keep my face blank. “And what rumors are those?” He moves so his lips brush the shell of my ear. I tense in anticipation but the moment he darts his tongue out and licks my lobe, I gasp, only for that to turn into a moan when he licks a trail down my neck and nips at the soft skin of my collarbone before working his way back up and pressing his lips against my ear.

“That Greek men can fuck better than any other race.” At the mention of the Greeks I freeze beneath him.

“Who the fuck are you?” I grit out through clenched teeth as he rests his forehead against mine.

Artemis

The shock is evident in her green eyes, she isn’t what I expected her to be. I heard the rumors from my brothers about her beauty but they tend to exaggerate everything so I paid them no mind. It appears, they were right. She is fucking stunning and that’s a problem. The moment I spotted her in my booth my cock leapt to attention. I’ve fucked plenty of beautiful women but never has my cock hardened for someone without their lips being wrapped around it.

“Who the fuck are you?” she grits out as I rest my forehead against her, the shock is replaced by anger. Rather than answering, I brush my lips against hers. I know without a doubt she is a spitfire and I would never win an argument against her, so I decide to break her by forcing her body to betray her basic instincts. Her gasp grants me the access I need to plunge my tongue inside her mouth, the taste of berries invading my senses and I fight back the groan that wants to break free. The blade she holds at my side begins to tremble as I override her system and derail her train of thought from just a kiss. She melts into the chair and the sound of metal clanging against the floor has me relaxing knowing she dropped her blade, her arms band around my neck and pull me in closer as her legs widen. The warm heat of her pussy is pressed against my cock. I grind into her, relishing in the sounds she makes. I swallow each moan hungry for the next. Jesus Christ, this girl has me dry humping her in the middle of my club. That realization of where we are and what is about to go down tonight has me snapping out of it and breaking the kiss.

I leap off her and stand at the edge of the booth panting, I stare down at her red face with swollen lips and a dazed look in her eyes. I can see her nipples through the fabric of her all-too-revealing dress. I know for a fact—with how high the slits are on either side—that she isn’t wearing panties. Her ample tits look suffocated in the tiny cups, her chest rising and falling in quick succession as she tries to get enough air into her lungs. Her emerald eyes slowly begin to clear and once the fog is gone, she grips the blade from the floor and is on her feet glaring up at me.

“Don’t you ever fucking touch me again!” she snarls. The way she looks at me like I am beneath her sets me ablaze. The wanton bitch was practically begging for my cock a second ago and now stands before me as if this shit was one sided.

“You were mediocre at best. Get the fuck out of my club now and don’t come back!” This time, she doesn’t argue, instead she steps around me and I smirk in triumph until I feel her slice through my shirt. I hiss as I feel the sharp edge of the blade glide across my skin. The bitch doesn’t stop to check if she hit her mark, she keeps her back to me and her head held high as she makes her way toward the exit, leaving me standing here with a hole in my shirt and blood trickling down my side. That girl has no fucking idea who she just made an enemy of but she’s about to learn real fucking fast who I am. I’ll break her body first before I destroy her mind and send her back to her family as a shell of the person she once was. I press the tips of my fingers against the wound and hiss. Little bitch dug it in deep enough to make sure it stung, for some reason that has a smirk pulling at the corner of my mouth.

After cleaning my wound and changing my shirt, I decided to forego my usual place since London ruined that booth for me so I came into my office. I could strangle the fucking triplets for throwing a party at my club and inviting every student from Blackwood Academy here. This is a fucking disaster waiting to happen. I know the three of them needed to blow off some steam after failing to locate and eliminate the rabbit. If they had just got to him first and put a bullet in his head then we wouldn’t be in this fucking mess!

“Got a minute?” Looking up from the stack of papers in front of me, I see Cronos standing in the doorway.

“Yeah. Shut the door behind you,” I mutter as I push the stack of papers to the side and rest my forearms on the top of my desk as Cronos takes one of the seats in front of me. Most people need to look in a mirror to check their appearance but not me, I have a twin–kind of. I was born just before midnight and Cronos was born ten minutes after twelve so technically we are twins but born on different days.

“Costa called.” Cronos never refers to our father as his Dad, there is a story there but neither of them have confided in us about it. All I know is that ever since Cronos didn’t complete the trials he has become a dark entity, he’s a wild card.

“What’d he have to say?”

“He’s coming in tomorrow, he wants the five of us to meet him at his house.” I fight the urge to roll my eyes. When it was decided by the founding fathers, as we call them, that Blackwood Academy would be a thing, Costa bought a house here in Switzerland. You may think it’s because he wanted to be closer to his sons but that’s the lie he tells everyone. Costa has a house here so it’s convenient for him to drop in whenever he wants. I was tasked with living here and watching over the triplets when they first started school here three years ago. Now, I have no choice but to step in as the headmaster thanks to London Murdoch chasing off the previous ones.

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