Page 59 of Syndicate of Sin Bundle

“If I waved my tits in your face, you’d be dead by now,” I said, crossing one leg over the other. My gaze flickered from Cristian to Marco as Marco glimpsed at me. “Now, I have more questions about Alessa, and I need you to answer them for me.”

Marco looked around the room, then turned to me. “What is it? And make it quick. If he thinks we’re talking about something else while you’re dressed like this—”

“Like what?”

Marco’s gaze flickered down my body, jaw tensing. “Like a whore.”

“Like a whore or someone you wouldn’t mind fucking again?”

Marco growled. “You’re fucking insane.”

I smiled sweetly at him. “So … questions.”

“Make them quick,” Marco repeated. “I don’t have time for these games.”

“Where does she live?” I asked, leaning closer to him and sipping my drink.

Jaw tense, Marco drew his tongue across his teeth. “What do I get for telling you?”

“To live another day,” I said with a smile, seeing Cristian place his hand on some guy’s shoulder, as if to say, See you later; I have a girlfriend I need to take care of. When Marco didn’t reply immediately, I leaned closer to him and tilted my head to the side slightly, drawing my finger up his forearm. “Or maybe you don’t care …”

Marco pushed me off him, swallowed hard, and tried—hard—to hide that bulge in his pants. “I’ll tell you, but you have to promise not to flirt with me in front of him. He already wants to kill me.”

“And behind his back?” I asked, knowing that I would never cross Cristian like that. But seeing Marco squirm because of me was … fun, to say the least. The control someone had over a guy just because they had a pair of tits was astounding. I leaned closer and sipped my drink. “I see the way you look at me.”

Marco cut his eyes to me and scurried off his seat, his hand over his crotch so nobody could see him. “You’re fucking crazy.”

“Where does she live?”

“Three floors down from Cristian.”

My hands balled into fists. “She lives in our apartment building?”

Marco grabbed his drink and hurried past me. “You didn’t hear it from me.”

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Before Marco could rush out of here, I slid off my stool and caught his wrist. “I want more information.”

“You don’t get any—”

Cristian clamped his hand down on Marco’s shoulder, and Marco tensed.

“Leave,” Cristian said to him, his voice impeccably low and dangerous, while his brown—almost-black—eyes were fixed on me. Sea breeze blew strands of his thick black hair onto his forehead. “And tell everyone else to get the fuck out of here too.”

“We were just talking,” I said to Cristian, brow furrowed.

“I don’t give a fuck what you were doing.” Cristian turned his head toward Marco. “I said to leave,” he said into his ear, then shoved him away and toward the exit. “Party is fucking over. Everyone, get out.”

Placing their drinks down and gathering their belongings, everyone began departing the yacht.

Cristian placed a hand on either side of me and leaned closer. “You think you can walk around all night, dressed like this”—he looped a finger around my bikini and tugged on it so hard that I could feel it start to come undone in the back—“and not be punished for it?”

“I was just”—I swallowed hard, heart racing—“having fun?”

Cristian glided his tongue across his lower lip and paused, clenching his jaw. “Out, Alessa,” he said through gritted teeth, trapping me between him and the bar and not looking back at Alessa, who snatched her purse from a table and stormed off the ship.

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