Page 81 of Syndicate of Sin Bundle

Once I swallowed my shot, I peeked back over at her. My pussy ached from the sudden emptiness, the desperation lingering inside me. Constantino wouldn’t let me come until I talked to her, until I offered her one million dollars to be our toy.

2

sage

Dateless and nearly penniless, I sat at the bar in a club rumored to be run by the Mafia and took a sip of the only good thing I had going for me tonight—alcohol. Austin had left me nearly thirty minutes ago, and I couldn’t get myself to go home alone.

Gaze drifting around the packed club, I spotted her for the seventh time tonight.

Chocolate-colored hair. Huge fuck me brown eyes. Pouty, full raspberry-colored lips.

She sat on a man’s lap and kept stealing glances at me all night. A silky pink dress clung to her curves with a necklace dipped between her cleavage, drawing my—and probably everyone else’s—attention to it. The woman was Instagram influencer perfect, but without the filters and the Photoshop.

I hadn’t ever been with a woman. God, I’d be way too anxious for something like that. I was bad enough as it was with guys. Ahem, Austin. But I’d gotten off to the thought of being with one.

Never one as beautiful as her.

She was with her boyfriend.

When she slid her shot glass across the bar for the third time tonight, I spotted a large diamond ring on her finger and a wedding band glimmering under the dim club lighting. A long, disappointed sigh escaped my mouth.

Nope, definitely her husband.

Figures.

After averting my gaze back to my drink, I took one last sip of it and stared emptily at the bar top. I should’ve never come out tonight. Not only had I gotten to witness Austin flirting with every petite, prettier-than-perfect girl at The Syndicate, but he had left me here.

Left me here!

Who the hell did that to anyone? I would never invite a boyfriend out and leave him alone at a club without a way to get home and with a crazy-high bar tab. But I guessed he didn’t give a fuck. It wasn’t like we had ever been exclusive.

“Hi,” someone said to my right.

I snapped my head up and my gaze over to the pretty married woman, who scooted onto the barstool next to me. My breath caught in my throat. What is she doing over here?

“What are you drinking?” she asked.

My cheeks burned. I glanced to my left to see who she was talking to because it definitely wasn’t me. It couldn’t be me. Why would she come chat with me out of all these people here? She had a husband.

Unless … she thought I had been staring at her husband and not her.

“I’m talking to you,” she said, giving me a soft smile. “What’re you drinking?”

“I, um …”

She was smiling at me a bit too sweetly. What is going on?

Darting my gaze around the room, I spotted large Italian guards posted at almost every door, walking around the club, lingering near the back offices. Those rumors about the mob had to be true.

If she was with them—which she seemed to be—then maybe she was going to ask me to go for a little chat in the back hallway for staring in her direction and then blow my freaking head off.

Damn Austin. Why’d he leave me?

“Amalfi Coast cocktail mixed with Afterglow,” the bartender who had been serving me all night said.

“Can we get two more?” she asked.

I grabbed my purse, knowing that I had just spent the last of my money, trying to forget Austin, with a couple of drinks of alcohol and loud, blaring music. “I actually don’t have any more cash on me.”

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