Page 33 of Bitter Prince
The latter rolled her eyes. “I guess I will too.”
“So kind of you,” Raven said, snorting. “We’ll compare notes in a week. Now, let’s put on some hot outfits and get ready. I heard there’s a club that just opened. We have to check it out.”
“What’s it called?” I asked curiously.
“It’s a Japanese symbol, not sure what it means,” Raven answered, and my eyes lowered to the necklace hanging between my breasts. Something in the pit of my stomach churned and warned. It couldn’t be a coincidence. “Yeah, like that”—she must have caught me fidgeting with my chain—“like your necklace.”
One hour later, we were all dressed up, crowded in our little bathroom.
“Oh my gosh, we’re sex on legs. Every man who looks at us is bound to get a boner.” Leave it to Raven to come up with such amodeststatement and say it out loud. I didn’t think she’d have any qualms announcing it to the world either.
We didn’t look too shabby. Raven wore a red leather minidress. Athena black leather shorts and a silver strappy top. Phoenix and Isla opted for white leather pants. Phoenix had on a shimmery, strappy blue top that tied in the back, while Isla opted for the same type of shirt but in an emerald green.
I turned around to check myself out. The black leather pants hugged my body so tightly they looked like a second skin. The sheer pink sleeveless blouse revealed my sparkly push-up bra below.
“Do I look old enough?” I asked them all, turning left and right. I didn’t apply a lot of makeup. I preferred to wear less, more comfortable wearing a natural look. Unlike the rest of the crowd who mostly just turned twenty, I had yet to turn eighteen and hated the fact that I was the youngest. Phoenix was twenty months older than me, so she was the next youngest member of the group.
But it couldn’t be helped.
“You look perfect,” Isla said, her red curls making her look like an exotic goddess. I flicked a look in the mirror, catching all of our reflections. Phoenix and I had almost identical faces, the mirror image of our mother. But while Phoenix’s dark hair was like our father’s, my hair was as light as my mother’s was. My curls were from our grandmother’s side. Then there was Isla with her wild red mane and Raven with her slick, ebony-black hair. Athena’s honey hair color had hues of copper and gold in it.
“We really do look good, don’t we,” I said, linking arms with my sister. “Let’s go hit this new, hot Paris club.”
Thirty minutes later, we were outside among other partygoers who were waiting to get in. I let out a soft groan.
“God, this line is super long,” I muttered, glancing down at my feet. My pink Valentino shoes were sexy, but not the most comfortable footwear.
I heard before I spotted the familiar Maserati pull up in front of the club. I held my breath as the door to the car opened and I watched Amon step onto the sidewalk like he owned it. He headed straight for the entrance of the club. Tonight, he wore an immaculately tailored three-piece suit, dark like his whole persona, yet at this moment, he was looking like a savior. A way to get in. The guy trailing behind him made a show of checking out the women in the line. Not Amon though, who seemed to keep his eyes straight ahead.
“Wait here,” I told Phoenix and the others, running after Amon. The breeze from the river swished through, carrying his cologne. It was like a breath of fresh air. “Amon.” Nothing. “Amon, wait up.”
He faltered, his steps easing as he turned around. I didn’t stop quick enough though, and slammed into his warm, muscular chest. Heat drifted through me like a kindled flame. There were dozens of people around us but they all faded into the background, making me feel like we were alone in the world.
I took a step back to get my bearings, only then noticing his hand gripping my elbow, steadying me.
“Sorry,” I said, apologizing for our head-on collision, my hand on his chest. I had to tilt my head up to look him in the eyes, and when I did, they slammed right into my soul. It felt like fighting a strong current. Like floating through the dark universe where only stars were your guide.
A hand landed on my shoulder. “Get lost.”
I turned around to snap at whoever dared to touch me, but Amon beat me to it. “Remove your hand from her, Roberto.”
Roberto stepped back as if burned. “Sorry, boss.”
“Don’t ever touch her again.” A cold anger replaced Amon’s usual calm as another man appeared on the other side of Amon. Bald. Stocky. And scary as shit. My eyes widened, my survival instinct kicking in as I put some space between us. “It’s okay, Cesar. I got this,” he told the man, flicking his gaze to the right.
Roberto looked frustrated, a flash of anger flickering in his eyes, but it disappeared just as fast. Cesar looked stoic. And all the while, a bouncer at the door stood with the VIP rope unhooked, clearly waiting for Amon to pass through.
Ignoring Roberto, Cesar, and the bouncer, I returned my attention to Amon. “Hello,” I said, smiling. “I can’t believe we ran into each other again.”
A grin tugged at his lips. “We didn’t run into each other. You ran into me.”
My cheeks burned hotter than Hades. “You stopped too abruptly.” Then I flicked my chin, realizing how ridiculous it was to argue about it. “I’m here with some friends. Any chance you’d ask the dude over there to let us in?” I smiled sweetly for good measure and added, “Please.”
He was larger than life, studying me as his eyes traveled over my outfit. He regarded me like I was his science project, much to my dismay. Until our gazes met. Then something flickered behind his gaze, seducing me in an unfamiliar way.
“You’re underage.” It was almost as if he were speaking to himself.
“Buttheyare not,” I justified. “If you don’t want to let me inside, then let them.” I turned to the place where my sister and friends huddled together while some men were already tossing comments at them. It was always the damn same. Once they picked up on the fact that we were American and dressed provocatively, they felt like they had a free pass to throw comments—flattering and unflattering—our way.
