Page 26 of Syndicate of Sin Bundle

Across the bar, two men approached a woman who was more plastered than I was. I blinked a few times, trying to see straight, and squinted at the woman, unable to tell if she was just too drunk or if something had happened to her. Instead of pushing them away like I thought she would, she drew them closer and open-mouthed kissed both of them at the same time.

I slumped down in my seat, telling myself to forget her because I had my own damn problems to deal with, and asked for another drink. The bartender took my glass from me and poured me some water.

“I want another one,” I said.

“You’re too drunk,” he said back.

After growling at him, I stumbled off the seat and stormed toward the exit. Marco kicked himself off the wall from across the room and followed me. Knowing that I wouldn’t get far and wouldn’t be able to lose him while I was this drunk, I pushed through the door and started my walk toward my brand-spanking-new apartment.

A night breeze blew gently over the city, and I shivered and peeked behind me to see Marco following. At least Cristian wasn’t with him. I’d get to spend a couple of hours alone with Marco to convince him to kill for me, so Cristian would leave me the fuck alone. And I wanted Cristian to leave me alone more than anything.

18

roxie

Stumbling into my apartment, I slammed the door right in Marco’s face and stormed through the living room, straight to the file Cristian had given me earlier. I tore it in half, then in half again, then in half again. “Fuck you, Cristian.”

I soaked the paper in water until I couldn’t read the name anymore, and then I tossed it into the trash and resisted the urge to burn it.

Who the fuck does that man think he is, bossing me around and telling me to kill someone for him?

As if I want him or his trust.

Instead of waiting until the trash was full, I took the bag out of the can, tied it up, and stomped to the front door. Marco stood outside the door. He glanced up from his phone and arched a brow at the trash. “It’s not even full.”

I walked past him and toward the trash room, depositing the bag into the bucket and walking back out toward Marco, who had one foot stuck between the door and the doorframe so it wouldn’t lock on me.

“We need to chat,” I said to him, holding the door open so he’d walk into the room. When he didn’t move, I arched a brow and pointed into the apartment. “Now. I don’t have the damn patience today.”

“Cristian will be home soon.”

“This is Cristian’s apartment?”

“He lives two floors up.”

I crossed my arms over my chest and watched how his eyes flickered down for the slightest moment, and then I shrugged. “Well, I don’t care what god-awful time of the night he’s coming home. He’s not coming here. Get in.”

Great, Roxie. Order him around. That’ll definitely get you brownie points with him.

Still, he didn’t move.

So, I leaned against the doorframe, looked up at him through my lashes, and drew a finger up his chest. “Come on. Just for a minute. I need to ask you something in private.”

This man must’ve been extremely loyal to Cristian or had some godly self-control because he didn’t move an inch or even attempt to. Instead, he kept his cold, dead stare on me and—

I clutched my stomach, eyes widening. Dear Lord, I felt like I was about to—

Doubling over, I sprinted to the hallway to find the bathroom. Whatever the hell I’d drunk tonight was about to come up and spew out of my throat. Knocking open door after door, I tripped on my own two feet in the bathroom and smacked belly-first onto the ground, the feeling of needing to puke disappearing.

“Roxie, are you okay?” Marco said from the hall.

I decided that this might be the only damn way to trap him in here, so I groaned in response. “Can you help me?” I whined. “I hit my—”

Marco stood at the bathroom door and reached down to pick me up. “Fuck, Cristian is going to fucking murder me for this.” He scooped me into his arms and walked down the hallway to the living room, setting me on the couch. “How much did you drink tonight, Roxie?”

I let my hands linger around his shoulders for a moment. “Too much.”

The door flung open, and Cristian stepped into the room with his gun drawn. When he saw us by the couch, he swore at Marco and put his gun back into his waistband.

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