Page 35 of Savage Kingdom

He had no idea—but he would find out.

I turned my head to look around the bar, but Bas, my shadow, was gone.

Hiding my pleased smile was a lot harder than I thought. People underestimated a pretty face—like I said, my own organization underestimated mine. Damian, the head of our organization, took great pleasure in dragging my name around. I knew to stand up to him, I needed allies. So a year ago I found one. A broken playboy. He was everything that didn’t belong in my world, but once vengeance spreads through your veins and carves on your soul, there’s nothing you won’t do to appease it.

Ever since then, I’d had him under my wing. He would join the Sekt soon enough. With my training and his pedigree, he would be an asset the likes of which we’d never had before. The best part of all? He was only loyal to me.

When I came to Chicago to avenge Adrik, Bas came with me. Always keeping a distance. One of his jobs was to tail Yoro while he had me. I had to ask him how he knew to wait at the house that day. I was damned impressed.

“You’re thinking awfully hard there, love.” Gideon’s breath fanned my cheek.

“Do you think Yoro or his men will be at the club?” My voice was meek on purpose.

Gideon pressed his front against my back as he leaned to grab my cranberry vodka. He brought the drink to my lips and tipped it. I swallowed the alcohol as fast as I could, but Gideon was pouring it quickly. I felt some liquid dripping down my lips to my neck.

When the glass was removed, Gideon pulled my hair back, giving him access to my neck.

I closed my eyes when I felt his tongue lick the trail of spilled vodka. It was wet and hot. When he got to my neck, he gently bit the tendon that was thrumming at the side.

“Yoro gets his hands on you,” he whispered against my neck. “I’ll cut them off.”

A shiver ran down my body. It wasn’t repulsion or fear—far from it. What he said ignited a fire within me. My core clenched, and I realized that for the first time, someone was affecting me.

I had pillars of ice around my heart, and this man wasn’t melting them down; he was fucking scaling them. Leaving me intact for everyone else except for him.

“What if I wanted to do the cutting?” I whispered more to myself than him.

“Barkeep.” Gideon ignored my question and signaled the bartender for another vodka. The bartender placed it in front of me. I grabbed the drink and was about to take a sip when Gideon spoke.

“I’d hold him down and watch you turn his body into a work of art.”

Fuck me.

I swallowed the whole damn drink in one go much to Gideon’s amusement.

“Now be a good girl. Our guest is here,” he said.

Three drinks down, and I could handle a fourth, but maybe after the meeting. A Hispanic man came to the bar. He looked unassuming, wearing jeans and a T-shirt. Ordinary. He sat next to us and ordered a beer.

“Mate,” Gideon greeted while he played with my hair. I really wanted to move my head, but I had to prove I wasobedient.

“You came to the Windy City to play?” he asked, taking a sip of his beer and not looking at us.

“We like to play,” Gideon said. “Don’t we, love?”

From the corner of his eye, the Mexican man was watching me. I nodded my head and whispered. “Yes, we love to play.”

The man pulled away and left the bills on the bar along with an old-school beeper.

“Text the information to the number. If you pass the screening, I’ll see you Saturday.”

He left, and both Gideon and I let out relieved breaths. Sinestre was more than a sex club. It was used to make bets, wagers, and sex was their chosen currency.

“You’re drunk, Petal?” Gideon asked.

I got up from my stool and smiled at him. “I could still drink more.”

“Shame,” he deadpanned. “Was hoping alcohol made you want to ride some dick.”

---