Page 10 of Brutal Union
“I think you’ve overstayed your welcome.”
The voice is smooth but firm, every word spoken with intent.. It slides down my spine like the sharp edge of a blade.
I look up, and see the man of the hour.
Sho stands at my side, a vision of tailored elegance and quiet danger. The black of his suit cuts a perfect line against his lean, toned frame, the crisp collar of his shirt open just enough to hint at smooth, tan skin. His hair, dark as ink, curves slightly where it falls over his forehead, the rest slicked back with effortless precision. But it’s his eyes that hold me still—deep, assessing, the color of midnight, void of anything that could be mistaken for warmth.
Barney shifts beside me, his easy confidence faltering. “Hey, man. We were just?—”
Sho tilts his head, slow and measured. “Leave.”
There’s no anger in his tone, no outright threat. Just a quiet certainty, an expectation.
Barney opens his mouth to argue, but then—he gets a good look at Sho.
His tan skin pales. “Shit,” he breathes, stumbling back a step. “You’re?—”
Sho doesn’t blink.
Barney swallows hard, backpedaling so fast he nearly trips over himself. “Didn’t realize, man. My mistake.” He glances at me, giving me a sheepish, almost apologetic look before he turns on his heel and disappears into the crowd.
I arch a brow, watching him flee. “That was dramatic.”
Sho doesn’t acknowledge the comment. Instead, he steps closer, his presence swallowing the space between us. His fingers brush my wrist—just for a second, a whisper of contact before he takes the dice from my hand and sets them on the table.
“You shouldn’t play with toys,Hime,” he murmurs, eyes never leaving mine. “It’s a waste of time.”
I tilt my head, lips curving. “And what do you suggest I play with instead?”
“I don’t think you should play at all, pretty girl.” His lips quirk in satisfaction, as he extends his arm to me and I loop my arm in the crux of his elbow.
“I think you underestimate my intelligence,Shadow.” I tease looking around the room, my eyes snagging on the fine tailoring of a bald man who looks vaguely familiar.
I turn, guiding Sho to the Blackjack table, the only other game I know due to Nikolai’s obsession with the game as a teenager. He leans down, his breath cascading over the shell of my ear. “I would never underestimate the Queen of Russia. That’s like asking for my beheading.”
Sho slides onto one of the high stools , he taps the table twice, signaling to the dealer to hand him two cards. I follow suit, the dealer passing me two cards along with the vaguely familiar bald man next to me.
“You don’t have to ask for that,” I smirk. “If you want a little head, all you have to ask for isa little head.”
I look down at my two cards, a Queen and a two of hearts, which means I have a count of twelve, given that the Jack, Queen, or King in Blackjack counts as a ten.
Sho chuckles, slowly looking over his cards, before flashing me one of his tiny smiles that makes him look more adorable than deadly. Not saying that Sho is attractive to me anyway.
“Are you offering?” Sho fully smiles, and my eyes roll over the sharp edges of his jaw.
He taps the table at the same time I do, and the dealer slides each of us a card, but not for himself, meaning he is closer to twenty-one than the both of us. I look down at my new card; it’s an eight of spades, making my total twenty. Sho looks at his and taps again before turning to me with a smug smile.
“Queens don’t really kneel do they?” I tease, swiping my hand across the fuzzy felt of the table, signaling that I don’t want any more cards.
Sho responds. “They do in front of a King. Wouldn’t you agree, Draco?”
Draco chuckles from his perch at the edge of the table, the sound low and guttural, like gravel grinding beneath a boot. A card slides across the table to Sho, and he sucks his teeth, flipping over his cards to reveal a bust.
“Only if the King teaches her. Queens and peasants alike have a place, no?" Draco says, his voice thick with a Russian accent, slow and smug like he’s trying to enunciate through the accent.
“And where would that place be?” I question flipping over my cards and revealing my twenty while the dealer reveals his nineteen. The chips bet that round all go to me.
I roll my shoulder back, pushing my hair over my shoulder so Draco can get a better look at my face.
