Page 7 of Merciless Sinner

Not a minute later, he proceeded to tell me about all the ways he planned to fuck me all week. Starting with tonight after the game.

I’d pray for strength, but I’m not sure there’s any point in praying anymore, so all I can do is what I’m doing and hope I’ll find some way to survive.

The money at the end is what I have to think about to keep myself going.

When Petr finishes drinking his champagne, we head down to the poker table. It’s in a private section of the casino.

There are already six men sitting at the table. All reek of money and power. The men look at me then glance at each other, a knowing look brightening their eyes.

I recall what Madame Noir said about the distraction, which seems to be working. Their eyes are all over my incredibly low-cut gold dress which stops at the tops of my thighs.

Petr and I sit next to each other, and his hand goes straight to my thigh again.

“Evening, gentlemen. I’m sure you won’t mind me bringing my date,” Petr greets them, issuing each man with an uncanny smile.

“Not at all,” says the dark-haired man to our left who speaks in a rich French accent. “We’re all used to you now.”

As he chuckles, the other men join him and the croupier walks up toward the table with a deck of cards.

I know nothing about poker, so like everything else, I don’t know what to expect.

“Ready to go?” the croupier asks, holding the cards up. “Looks like all the players are here.”

“All except me,” a deep Russian voice cuts in.

My head snaps up, and my eyes connect with the azure-blue ones that belong to the deadly handsome Russian man from this morning.

Dressed in a dark blue suit, he looks like he just stepped off the cover ofGQ Magazine. His attire and presentation are so different to the Levi’s and T-shirt guy he was this morning, showing off muscles and tattoos.

My heart flutters at the sight of him, and a rush of heat cascades over my body in the most inappropriate way. But I can’t stop it.

Our eyes connect like they did this morning, and just for a moment, I forget where I am.

The scandalous look he gives me when he takes in what I’m wearing makes me blush from the inside out. The sinful look in his eyes strips away my reservations about being careful around handsome mysterious men, and suddenly, I’m embarrassingly wet.

His gaze flicks over me as if he knows, and for a moment, I wonder if he does.

But then I check myself. Because what is he doing here?

How is hehereat the same time as me? In the same place. At the same game.

This can’t be a coincidence.

If there’s one thing I know, it’s that anything that appears to be a coincidence is usually a warning of something amiss.

In my case, that’s always about the danger that sent me running from the past.

ChapterThree

Olivia

“Perfect, now we can start.” The croupier gives the men a stiff smile and starts dealing out the cards. As he does, I notice some of the men look uneasy at the presence of my mysterious Russian friend.

He sits next to the Frenchman who spoke earlier, but his eyes haven’t left me.

The sinful look is still there, joined by curiosity.

My nerves spike when his gaze drifts down to my deep cleavage, and the reminder of why I’m here replaces my worries about his coincidental presence with embarrassment.

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