Page 14 of Isla

Never ever for an omega. Then again, I’d never said what I said before either. Only Kingsley had made that claim.

“She isn’t there now.” Finn scanned the living room and the bedroom of the suite. Her suitcase was where I left it, her bag gone.

“Oh fuck, she’s gone out in that dress. It barely covered her body.”

“I’ll check the bars,” Finn said, tapping the screen, before he took his keyboard and typed in the search bar.

Search all bars for white clothing and blonde hair.

The program he developed took five seconds to come back with five returns equalling five screens.

I grinned and tapped on the one that showed Miss Isla Silvers. “There she is,” I said as we watched her sink a shot back and then her finger rising in the air as she requested another drink.

“Shit, she’s getting drunk,” I growled and grabbed the cell.

“Harrison here, the girl with the white dress, start giving her watered down spirits,” I said to the bar manager.

“That’s against the rules,” he replied.

“I make the rules,” I said and hit disconnect.

“What do you think?” I asked Finn.

He was stroking his stubble with his thumb, looking kinda dazed. He nodded.

“Is that a yes? Are you going to check her out?” I asked.

“Too damn right I am.”

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