Page 34 of Tangled Souls

Oaklynn waves her hand dismissively, ensuring her wedding and engagement rings are on display as she does. “Yes, well, that’s immaterial. I was told Pulse is the place to be.” Oaklynn’s smile is fake as fuck, but Aamon is enchanted just the same.

“It is,” Aamon assures her. He gestures behind him. “Let me give you the full VIP Pulse experience.”

Oaklynn’s laugh is forced, but I swear Aamon’s eyes roll back in his head as he pulls the door open and the music from inside hits our senses. The lighting is low with neon making colors dance around the dark room. I don’t like it at all.

Our wife slips her arm through Kirill’s elbow as we fall in line and follow Aamon. My eyes are bouncing around, taking in the writhing bodies on the dance floor the same way I take in everyone working the floor because you never know where the threat will come from.

Better safe than sorry.

We follow Aamon toward a set of stairs which leads up to the VIP lounge. He nods at the bouncer there who practically falls over himself to pull the rope back to give us entry. Either word of our visit has spread, or the bouncer is afraid of his boss.

I’m guessing it’s us more than Aamon considering the bouncer is much larger than the club owner. But, then again, I have a feeling we don’t know nearly enough about Aamon and his connections.

My gut is telling me that is going to change tonight, but only time will tell.

We’ve barely sat down in one of the large lounge sections in the VIP area when a waitress appears with a bottle of Hammond Whiskey and some champagne in an ice bucket. As much as I want to sit right next to Oaklynn and cocoon her in safety, I force myself to relax and keep some space around us, looking more casual and relaxed than I’m feeling.

I glance at the bottle of Hammond Whiskey and smirk. Aamon must want to impress Kirill, and us, considering the Blue Label he’s serving us tonight. I won’t be drinking, but he doesn’t need to know that.

Once the drinks are passed out, the waitress glancing at Aamon furtively the entire time, she scurries away. My gut is screaming at me, but I push it aside. For now.

Oaklynn watches the waitress for a beat longer than she should before she looks out over the club on the floor below us. She takes a sip of her champagne before directing her attention at Aamon and smiling at him, but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes.

“Thank you,” she demurs, “this is delicious.”

“Of course,” Aamon practically fucking bows as he accepts our woman’s praise. “Anything for Mrs. Volkov.”

The placating smile she gives him should make him feel like an errant child, but I swear he puffs his chest up as if he’s won a trophy. Oaklynn turns toward Huck and winks, her voice seductive and sweet, “I think it’s time you showed me more of your moves out on the dance floor.”

Huck chuckles, his eyes dancing with mirth as he holds out his hand, “That’s an offer I can’t refuse, Sweet Girl.”

As much as I want to watch our wife’s ass as she’s led out of the VIP area and toward the dance floor by Huck, I force myself not to. When I glance over at Maxim, his eyes are riveted right where I wish mine were. The fucker.

Aamon clears his throat and our attention drifts in his direction. Kirill’s eyes are intense and focused which causes Aamon to shrink under his gaze before he thinks better of it and puffs up his chest. I have to swallow down a laugh because now he just looks constipated.

“With the ball and chain gone, can I offer you gentlemen some company? I have a connection that can provide you a woman for anything you might need,” Aamon offers. He leans forward like he’s not digging his own grave, “I’m sure you have needs that your wife can’t fulfill. There’s a difference between what you can satisfy with a wife and with a mistress.”

I barely stop myself from rolling my eyes. This guy has lost his fucking mind. The fact that he doesn’t know how much danger he’s in right now is kind of funny. It’s also really fucking sad.

Kirill’s voice is cold as the dismissal rolls off his tongue, “I have no need for a mistress.”

Aamon is nodding, his face a mask of fake understanding. “Just for a night then. Not a mistress per se, just someone you can take all your frustration out on.”

My stomach rolls at the thought of being near any woman other than Oaklynn. Not only is cheating not our style, but our wife would have our balls if we even considered such a thing. And she would be right to mount those balls and put them on display on our mantle.

While trying not to launch myself at Aamon, since it would do me no good, my eyes find Huck and Oaklynn on the dance floor. As if the crowd can feel the danger coming off Huck, they give the two a wide berth. It looks out of place in a club where bodies are usually tightly pressed on the dance floor, but it gives me a little bit of comfort.

Kirill doesn’t respond to Aamon’s ridiculousness which has the man nodding at someone in the corner. I’m not looking forward to whatever his nod brings our way. My eyes continue to scan the club, looking for an attack.

One feels imminent even though I doubt it’ll happen here. The foreboding feeling in my gut, which I can’t ignore, is growing the longer we’re here. I don’t like it one bit.

“A woman who bears your last name is only good for pushing out some babies, but then there are the whores you take to bed. They can be used and left without a backward glance.” Aamon’s words have me wanting to scrunch my face up in disgust, but I don’t let my feelings show on my face.

He seems emboldened by our silence and keeps talking. “I’m sure you already know all about that.” The laugh he lets out borders on a maniacal cackle as I side eye the man as he’s lost in what he thinks is a hilarious rant. “Women are all weak. It’s bestto find one who is meek and a little stupid to be your wife. That way they don’t know what they’re missing when it comes to their home life and are happy to have kids to look after.”

I share a look with Maxim and can see the anger in his eyes, but Aamon is too gone to notice. Or, maybe, he just doesn’t care. Either way, he’s going to be lucky to live through the night if he keeps up spewing his bullshit.

With a shake of my head in warning, I look away from Maxim. That’s when I notice the three women approaching the VIP area. They’re dressed in little more than lingerie and I almost ask what the fuck is happening because it looks like they belong at Second Circle.

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