Page 46 of Gamble with Me
He was in his element, passionately discussing the things that interested him. His body language and the emotions he emitted literally screamed at everyone around him that he knew what he was saying. It wasn't just a polite exchange of meaningless phrases. He was making a point. People hung on every word he said as he skillfully dragged them to his side. I didn't know the topic, but their expressions proved he’d won them over.
And then, he turned in my direction, and our gazes met. The intense lighting of pleasurable electricity shot through me, and my entire body tingled. My heartbeat rapidly increased, and I momentarily froze. The heat traveled to my cheeks, but I couldn't tear my eyes off of him. He hypnotized me through the entire room with one simple look.
Zyon excused himself from the conversation in the next few moments and joined me at the bar. His eyes glowed when he gave me a once-over, and I quickly regretted my choice of dress. It covered every inch of my body, from my neck to the ankles. I was anxious about someone noticing the bruises from the belt around my throat or my stalker's handprints on my legs. He marked me in every way possible, and while the memory of that wild night brought me to life every time I recalled it, I didn't want anyone to notice anything.
"If you keep staring at me like that, I might start imagining things," Zyon pointed out, flashing me an irresistible toothy grin.
"I was thinking," I replied, finishing my coffee and placing the empty cup on the bar. Daria hadn't returned yet, so we had some privacy because the place was relatively empty for a Sunday night.
"About me?" he teased, and for the first time, I decided to test my theory about him being my stalker. It was just a hunch, a blind shot, but what could I lose? If they weren't the same person, I would have to accept it and move on.
"Actually, yes." I nodded, gently sinking my teeth into my lower lip. His eyes fell to my mouth, and he moved closer, leaving only inches of space between us.
"What were you thinking about, Valeria?" he asked, his voice deep, forcing goosebumps to erect over my body. If it were a little deeper, it would match my stalker's voice perfectly.
"I was just imagining how you would look with a skull mask on your face," I answered, my heart almost jumping out of my chest.
The way Zyon looked at me almost knocked me off my feet. I grabbed the bar stool for support because my knees buckled. The blazing fire in his irises licked my skin, causing fireworks to explode inside my chest.
"I love how your mind works," he breathed; some magnetic force pulled us together. If someone was watching us, they could consider our behavior highly inappropriate for a working relationship.
"Sorry to interrupt, love birds." We both flinched when Dorian's grinning face appeared beside us, and he sat on the stool next to his brother. "But we have a situation."
A low, disapproving rumble flew from Zyon's lips as he glared at him and stepped away from me.
"What situation?" he growled, my eyes dilating in shock, and the realization hit me like a baseball bat in the middle of my face. I knew that feral sound. I heard it last night when I teased my stalker. It was him! It had to be.
"Valeria's husband is running around the casino upstairs, demanding to see his wife," Dorian answered calmly, as if discussing the weather, while I was roughly dragged back to the reality that I was still married.
"Great," I mumbled, attempting to walk past Zyon to meet Chester, but he stopped me.
"I'll take care of it," he rumbled, and I instinctively placed my hand on his forearm, trying to calm him a little.
He looked ready to explode, which slightly startled me. If he really was my insanely possessive stalker, I feared he was capable of murdering my husband between the slot machines. There was no way Chester would walk out of here in one piece if I let Zyon deal with it.
"No." I shook my head firmly, holding his scornful look. "I'll take care of it."
"I won't let you go alone," he stated, barely holding himself together. I didn't understand why he was so livid about me meeting Chester.
"It's just a conversation, Zyon," I said gently, squeezing his forearm. "He won't hurt me."
"I'll cut off his filthy tongue if he says something nasty about you," he threatened, and a very inappropriate smile appeared on my lips.
"That's adorable." I grinned and turned to leave.
"I'll show you adorable," Zyon ground out, and I heard Dorian burst into laughter.
"You two are meant for each other," he uttered as they followed me to the elevator.
"I can go alone," I sighed while we waited for the door to open, and they got in behind me.
"That doesn't mean you will," Zyon retorted, turning his broad back on me. I rolled my eyes, earning an elbow nudge from Dorian, who looked like a boy who just got a new toy.
Yet I didn't have time to muse about his expression because my stomach was twisting, and my palms were sweating. I knew I would have to face Chester and his anger one day, but I hoped it would be later rather than sooner.
Exiting the elevator, I walked past Zyon and Dorian, who leaned against the slot machine. Chester stood beside the receptionist's desk with two tall bodyguards watching his every move.
My husband looked exactly like I remembered him; only the bandage holding his arm was new. His hair was combed back, and his eyes searched the space like he expected an attack. I didn't know if it was just me or if something weird was happening here as well. Something that I couldn't put my finger on, but it was present. Like some silent battle between Zyon and Chester was in motion, and I was in the middle of it.
