Page 30 of Flames of Ruin

“This isn’t a game, CiCi.” He snarls, “Those men in there are dangerous.”

I snap my head in his direction. “And you will come running in to save the day if anything goes wrong. I’m not scared, Drake.”

“That makes one of us,” he whispers.

My heart thrums inside the walls of my chest at his admission. I lean over, giving him a quick peck on the cheek, before I hear Miranda in my ear.

“Time to move, sweet cheeks.”

Opening the passenger door, I cautiously slide out of the car just as Miranda approaches. Following behind her are Daniil’s bodyguards.

Smoothing out the wrinkles of my dress, I hold my arm out to her, “Ready?”

“As good as ever.” She links her arm with mine as the cars drive off. I can see them take a right turn down the street leading to the back alley entrance of the club.

A chill runs down my spine as the caravan of cars disappears behind the building.

Letting out a deep breath, I look at the massive bodyguard standing closest to Miranda. “Let us do the talking inside, ponimat’? Understand?”

He just huffs in response.

Miranda leans over to whisper in my ear, “Since when do you know Russian?”

I shrug, “I’ve picked up a few things working at the club.”

We cross the street and approach the front entry, which is guarded by three armed men dressed in all black.

“Password?” His thick Russian accent spits out as he looks us up and down suspiciously.

I stare at him blankly for a beat until the huffy bodyguard begins quickly speaking in Russian before saying, “banshee”. The men standing in front of us smirk then nod and undo the rope, allowing us access.

“Next time, do your homework before you boss me around, sweetheart,” he whispers gruffly in my ear as he guides me by the elbow into the dimly lit room.

“What did you tell him?”

“That you’re my prostitute.” He sneers, “Now be a good girl and go win me some money.”

I snap my head toward him. “You realize Drake is listening?” I quip, as I rip my arm from his grasp, noting the evil smirk that is playing across his face.

We walk to the back corner of the room where there is a table of eight chairs, two of which are vacant.

“Da. Yes, and I suggest you respect me in front of the men in this room.” He motions to the empty chairs at the table for me to sit down.

Miranda sits across from me and I sit to the left of the dealer, placing my bet before our cards are dealt.

The night before, we had coordinated how we were going to work together to intentionally get caught cheating so that we would be forcefully removed from the table. She nods at me as she raises my bets, or wrinkles her nose when she isn’t.

As the game drags on, I start to lose faith that our plan is going to work, until I see the dealer motion to someone behind me. I know better than to look in that direction, so I keep my eyes on Miranda, who is clutching her cards tightly in her hands.

The scent of amber and leather invades my senses and a husky voice whispers in my ears, “You two need to come with us.”

Choking down the nerves in my stomach, I manage to croak out, “Is there a problem, sir?”

“There will be if you do not get up from this table.” He growls in my ear.

I set my hand of cards down on the tabletop. “Excuse me, gentlemen.”

Nodding at Miranda, we both quickly rise from the table and follow behind the two men.

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