Page 8 of Merciless Sinner

A man like him is going to know what this club is. He’ll also know there’s no way I’m here with Petr out of choice, so it’s a dead giveaway that I must be an escort.

Feeling more than embarrassed and humiliated, I look away from him, wishing I could jump straight into a black hole.

There was no way I thought I’d run into anyone who knew me from the café, but he doesn’t actually know me.

I wouldn’t consider the oh-so-brief encounter we had this morning an actual meeting, but the embarrassment remains.

As the men survey the hand of cards they’ve been dealt, I try to calm my nerves.

“Interesting to see you here, Virgo Antonov,” the Frenchman says in a newscaster voice, referring to my new friend.

Virgo Antonov. That’s his name.

At least I know it now.

“Why is that, Francois?” Virgo asks, his voice as cool as melting ice.

They know each other. That’s odd, right?

It’s difficult to tell when I’m being paranoid from when there’s nothing to worry about. The answer is hardly ever the latter when it comes to me and the world around me.

“Just didn’t know what business the Bratva had in Monte Carlo.”

Bratva—as in theRussian mafia.

Jesus.No wonder I sensed that danger vibe when we met. Because heisdangerous.

Dangerous, here, andwe met this morning.

Never mind my embarrassment. There’s no way in hell seeing him again here is a coincidence.

Is he linked to the danger that keeps me looking over my shoulder and watching my back?

I’ve never had a face before.

Is he what my danger looks like?

If so, I never expected that danger to come in the form of a beautifully handsome man who helped me clean up when I spilled the tray of condiments at the café.

A few days ago, I freaked out because there was a guy who thought he recognized me. He called me Olivia, and he looked at me as if he was sure that was who I was. On guard—as always—I told him my name was Alice. He apologized for the mistake, then left me alone. I tried to push the encounter out of my mind when I didn’t see him again. It seemed like it was an honest mistake.

But what if it wasn’t?

It’s strange that should happen to me mere days ago, and now this. This thing—whatever it is—with Virgo Antonov.

My lungs squeeze with the anticipation of this new, very real possibility, and I wonder what on earth I should do if I’m right. It’s been almost a year since I felt like I needed to run. With the new level of fucked up my life has fallen into, now really isn’t a good time.

“I was wondering the same thing,” Petr chimes in, piercing my thoughts. I glance at him as he stares at Virgo head on, then I switch my gaze back to Virgo, noticing he’s squaring his shoulders as if he’s gearing up for a fight.

“Nothing to wonder.” A ruthless smile pulls at his lips.

“Oh, but it is curious. I highly doubt that the lure of tonight’s game could tempt a man like you.”

“Maybe there are other things here tempting me.” Virgo looks at me and winks, sending an unexpected flush of heat straight to my core. The feeling is as potent as if someone had just taken a hot poker out of a fire and shoved it into my stomach.

There’s no doubt he’s talking about me. He was looking at me when he dropped the comment, and he’s still looking at me. Petr notices.

“Do you two know each other?” Petr asks, his brows knitted with disdain.

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