Page 68 of Iris
“How do you know?” Iris accuses.
Mari shrugs. “I just overheard Stephan and Heath’s earlier vidcall. Heath wanted her here to keep you in line.”
“Typical,” she mutters. “Why is he an ass?”
“He’s not,” her sister says, patting Iris’s back. “He’s stressed. It’s not just reputation, Iris. It’s making sure we’re all taken care of.”
“I don’t need that. I can look after myself.”
“Don’t shoot the messenger. Just…” Her sister looks about. “Find someone to flirt and dance with and we’ll get through the night. I’ll hunt us down a drink. Just look…pretty.”
With that her sister takes off.
I like her fire. Her brat with teeth stance. She might feel beaten down, but there’s no submission to her and she won’t give in without a fight.
She glances at her mini, sniffs, and hesitates before hitting something.
My stolen one pings. It has a number of times, and I’ve ignored it, but this time, as it came when she did something on hers, I look.
There’s a tab I open, and it lists Omegas and if they’re accepting or being asked for a dance.
And sure enough, the latest one is Iris’s. The Alpha’s an asshole named Jerome Creed.
He likes our bar.
He likes to hit on women in there.
Occasionally he gets one home with him, but more often than not he’s a pest. As are his friends.
Christ, Iris. Him?
Then again, I go over her brother’s words. Of course she’s booked the dance.
It’s not for a while.
The system is fucked, the girls nothing more than items for sale to the highest bidder. And it’s something we can bring up at the meeting. Killian can. No one’s gonna be able to hear me.
There are more than dances. There are options for a drink and a chat if someone wants, so I imagine the other bank is where that happens. Along with walks. It all looks so basic and cute for something that is, at its heart, transactional.
I understand transactional.
Iris’s name glows and pings again when Donegal Ames books her for a walk.
I think he’s a friend of the first fuckwit.
Iris starts to look around and her gaze falls on me. Powerful, electric, even though she can’t see for sure who I am, she senses me.
And that makes my cock start to stiffen.
Fuck she’s dangerous.
I love danger like this.
Oh, shit. There’s a private messaging system. I can choose anyone and, though when I glance around I can see others on their minis, not all of them are making dates or booking dances, some must be messaging.
I open up the DMs to Iris.
Hello, from Mr. Scarsby.
