Page 3 of Devious Secrets

“Who are you?” he demands.

“I’m sorry. I think I’m in the wrong spot. I should go.” I point toward the door and move in that direction, but he cuts me off and traps me at the bookcase again.

“I don’t think so. What are you doing here?” he questions.

“I’m… I was just lost, and the door was open.” I should have thought of a good cover story in case this situation occurred.

“This part of the building is off-limits to the auction girls. You’re supposed to be downstairs already. How did you get back here?” He continues with his questions.

“Auction girls?” I glance down at my attire. Black slacks and a long-sleeved black blouse don’t exactly scream sexy, but the way he’s talking, that’s what he’s looking for.

He looks at the box in his hands, turning it one way, then the other. Probably to see if I’ve broken it when I dropped it.

“Look. I was just looking around. No big deal. Just let me go.” I make like I’m going to move past him. He blocks me again.

“You’ll need to wait here.”

“Wait? For what?” I can’t wait. I don’t want to wait. I want to get out of here. Too much is at risk if I stay here.

“Me. You’re waiting for me.” a dark voice thunders from the doorway.

Ice dances up my spine before I set eyes on him, and once I do, my insides freeze completely over.

Alexander Volkov stands in the doorway. His dark-brown eyes fix on me, pinning me to the floor with his cold glare. The same look he had in in the antechamber, only darker now that it’s settled completely on me.

I swallow back the little cry trying to escape and roll my shoulders back.

Alexander Volkov owns Obsidian, a not-so-secret secret club that caters to pretty much anything and everyone who lives outside the lines of the law. He and his brothers also own a small handful of other clubs in the city. Those are the legal businesses that give him creditability with high society.

He and his family show up at high-profile events, making their way into the society papers. His picture has made its way into the newsreels more than once over speculations of his unsavory business dealings.

He has the sort of face that makes you stop scrolling when you see it. Strong jaw, neatly trimmed beard, but it’s the eyes. The deep-set dark gaze that traps you even through a photograph.

But now his cold eyes are focused on me—in person—and my nerves are back on edge.

Okay. I can get out of this.

So what that no one knows I’m here.

I haven’t told anyone what I’m up to.

And the one person who would notice right away that I’ve gone missing is already missing in action.

That’s okay. I can still figure this out. I just need a second.

I’m sure I’ll be able to just walk right out of this place without any further issues. I just need to explain why I’m here.

“I’m sorry.” My voice holds firm. Good. Good start, Megan. “I was looking for the bathroom…” I try to throw on a flirtatious smile, but his eyebrow peaking into a sharp arch over his left eye suggests I missed the mark.

“She had this.” My captor hands the box with the name Dexter Thompson etched into the side over to Alexander.

He looks at the name, runs his thick fingers over it, then brings his eyes up to me again. His jaw tightens.

“Go.” He jerks his head to the door and the man who found me hurries from the room, pulling the door closed behind him.

“Look, I know?—”

“Who are you?” he cuts me off.

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