Page 120 of House of Lies

She’s a fucking wolf.

Chapter 49

Cassidy

The Devil’s Den is nothing like I expect. I’ve been out clubbing with some girls from the diner before, but we went to places with two-for-one drinks specials with sticky floors and way too many drunk guys.

Situated on the border of the city’s industrial zones, the building looks like just another warehouse. Concrete walls, extractor fans jutting out from the roof, tiny blacked-out windows high on the walls.

But as soon as I enter, it’s obvious this isn’t a normal club.

Words like opulent, luxurious, and decadent come to mind. A bottle of water probably costs as much as a meal at the Olive Garden. Intimate alcoves dot the walls surrounding the dance floor. VIP areas cordoned off with red ropes and gauzy curtains. The decor is dark and sensual. I can’t help but trail my fingers over the silky wallpaper as I pass.

This definitely isn’t a place where people get drunk and dance their asses off. This is where people come to meet others who share their unique interests.

Their dark urges, as Ethan puts it.

I shudder at the thought and do my best to keep calm. I’m terribly conflicted about the outfit I chose. The short, deep purple cocktail dress is helping me to blend in amongst the other women, but I’m not skinny enough or layered in enough makeup to be just another party goer.

Enough stalling.

Time to find the Balmont Boys.

There’s no big sign up anywhere pointing out the entrance to the so-called gentlemen’s club Ethan told me about, so I guess I’ll have to ask around.

There’s a queue at the bar, but I shoulder my way to the front and lean over as much as the slit in my cocktail dress allows.

“Hey!” I snap my fingers at the closest bartender, and the girl with raccoon-thick eyeliner gives me a wary look before coming over.

“What can I get you?”

“I need to see Myles!” I yell over the music.

Except the thumping beat dips at that exact moment, so I’m shouting at the woman like I have a bone to pick with her.

She cocks a pierced eyebrow at me. “Can’t help you.”

“Then who can?”

“Sweetie, if you legit had business with Myles, you wouldn’t have to ask.” She gives me a tired smile that honestly could have been a hell of a lot more condescending and turns her attention on the dude next to me who’s been giving me the stink eye.

Probably because I elbowed him in the ribs.

Frustrated, I sidle away from the bar and go stand on the edge of the dance floor. I should have used Ethan’s name. It’s how I got in here in the first place. The two bouncers at the door kept ignoring me until I told them Ethan Remington would be furious if they didn’t let me in. One of them wandered off to make a call and came back a few seconds later, opening the red rope and waving me inside without another word.

“Cassidy, isn’t it?” a quiet voice murmurs into my ear.

I try to turn around, but fingers grasp the back of my neck, firmly keeping me in place. I recognize the voice, but I can’t remember which of the Balmont Boys it belongs to.

“Uh…hi.”

“To what do we owe the honor?”

I swivel my eyes and glimpse light reflecting from a pair of designer glasses perched on a perfectly straight nose.

It’s Smith, the man who’d been standing by the window when Myles and his friends paid us a visit.

My heart pounds.

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