Page 31 of Sweet Nightmares
“They aren’t all bad men.”
His nostrils flared. “Any man who rapes a woman as payment for another man’s debt is a bad man.”
“Please don’t say that word.” She closed her eyes for a brief moment, her cheeks stinging from holding back her pain.
“That’s what they did, Jane.”
“Please.” More tears streamed down her face, and he wiped them away with his knuckles.
“Have you ever been with any man by choice?”
No.“Please.”
Nightmare stared at her, his glare burning into her skin. It was too intense, and she averted her gaze. Then he did something she never expected: He pulled her into a hug, his chin resting on her head. “You’re safe now. I’ll never let anyone touch you unless you want it.” He paused for a long time, just holding her. “Not even me. I’ll never do anything to hurt you.”
“You already have.” Her voice was raw and filled with emotion. Nightmare didn’t react to the words, almost like they were meaningless to him. Jane swallowed. Of course, he wouldn’t care that he hurt her—that he stole the one thing she loved from her. Dance.
Her fingernails bit into her palm, and she looked down at her headless husband. She shook with both rage and pain.
“Alexei, I don’t want to keep his last name.” The last part came out as a sob, and she didn’t know why she said it. Now, or at all.
But she didn’t. Jane couldn’t keep that horrible man’s name any longer.
“Come with me.” He held his hand out for her to take.
Chapter Twelve
Age 24.
Ten minutes later, they were walking to the entrance of the Russet and into the Grand Casino.
The Russet was one of the seventeen sentient structures in the city, meaning it was a building controlled by a mirror and was a living, breathing, and moving entity. Keeping with its peculiar theme, the casino’s entrance was at the back of a shadow-coated alley, beneath mahogany cellar doors that opened onto lightless stairs. Claustrophobic, yet exciting. At the bottom of the stairs was the bouncer.
A girl who looked to be only seventeen with bouncy blue curls and a sing-song voice. Jane was fairly certain the girl had made a deal with a mirror for eternal youth or something, because she hadn’t aged a day since the first time Jane had come to the casino at seventeen years old.
“Why is a bullet like a tender caress?” the blue-haired bouncer asked. The only way into the Russet was to answer a riddle.
“Because both bullets and love pierce through hearts,” Jane responded before Nightmare could.
He glanced at her and nodded in approval before pulling her through the doors and onto the wooden platforms that made up the gambling den. The place was a cave with beautiful lagoons that sparkled with the shades of a sunset. Stalactites formed stakes of crystals from the ceiling, and glow worms and enchanted fireflies lit up the rooms.
The place was gorgeous.
Nightmare marched up to a private table where five people sat playing poker, Jane still clinging to his arm.
The first and most shocking member of the table was the Playboy Prince, Emrys. Jane immediately wanted to curtsy to him out of respect, but she wasn’t sure if it was the appropriate thing to do, considering… everything. So, she gave a slight and awkward bounce that was certainly not missed by anyone watching.
Jane had met Emrys three different times at the Royalle Ballet. He was a fan of the arts. Surprisingly, considering his proclivities towards bedding women, he had never flirted with Jane.
Tonight, he sat in a midnight suit spun from spider silk with purple accents. The man sitting to his direct right—François—was also impeccably dressed in a burgundy, pinstriped suit. The color made his russet-brown skin and dark eyes stand out. The two of them looked like the wealthiest men in the room, and they probably were. François was the leader of the Fantômes gang and the most powerful man in New Swansea’s underworld.
On the other side of Emrys was a gorgeous woman with golden-brown hair. She wore a low-cut dark pink dress that sparkled under the shine of the Russet’s glowworms.
Two other men filled out the table and seemed to be members of the Fantômes gang.
“A meeting. Now,” Nightmare demanded.
“Well, it’s nice to see you too, Gavriil.” Prince Emrys drew out the name, almost tauntingly.
