Page 8 of Requiem of Sin

The man stiffens behind me. He instantly stops struggling with my guards when he hears my native accent slip out.

She blushes more and shakes her head. “Hell no. That stuff is… No, safe to say I have never, ever tried million-dollar vodka. As you can tell, my luck here hasn’t been that great.”

I nod to Mike, who is already pouring a shot glass from the diamond-encrusted bottle we keep in the refrigerated safe under the bar.

“Are… are you serious?” she balks.

I nod. “On the house.”

Mike slides me another shot glass, and I hold it up for her to clink. “To new beginnings.”

Again, her eyes widen, but she tosses it back at the same time I do. We both hiss at the afterburn. It’s like drinking glacier water.

I glance over to Bambi. She’s wearing her amused smile. “Let’s get our beautiful guest set up with some VIP treatment, hm?”

“On it.” Bambi taps a few things on her phone, a smirk tugging at her lips. “Want me to include The Celestial?”

“Absolutely.”

“Done.”

It’s not even a full minute before one of our concierges appears at the woman’s elbow. He offers her a warm smile and a slight bow. “If you’ll come with me, madam?”

She glances between the three of us, then settles her perplexed stare on me. “What’s going on?”

I set my shot glass back on the counter. “I’m guessing your luck hasn’t been great for a while. That’s why you came out here, isn’t it?”

Her eyes dart down and away. She nods mutely.

“Well, then, time for a change.” I straighten my jacket, give her one final nod, then turn to deal with the other loose end.

Behind me, the concierge escorts the woman down a nearby side hall toward the spa. When she’s out of sight, I signal for security to bring the man along.

He and I are going in a slightly different direction.

4

DEMYEN

The poor bastard tries to drag his feet on the carpet like he’s hoping the earth will swallow him whole before we reach the private security room tucked behind the glass elevator. But my men are stronger than him, and they hoist him up so only his toes skate over the plush fibers.

I hear him mutter pleas, stammer promises to leave and never come back, but I ignore him.

It’s too late for that.

Bambi bids usadieuat the door; she’s never had much taste or patience for what comes next. It’s just as well—she needs to go check in with all our escorts in the pit.

The man is firmly seated into one of the metal chairs. Two of my men keep a hand on each of his shoulders to make sure he doesn’t think running is a good idea. The others lean in the corners, every bit the silent, violent sentinels they’re trained to be.

Even before I speak, the message is clear.

And it’s dripping down the man’s face in rivulets.

“Listen, man,” he stutters, “I meant you no disrespect?—”

I hold up a hand and he falls silent. “Of course not.” I flash him a charming smile, but my eyes are full of venom. “You came intomyhouse, drankmyliquor, and harassedmyguests. But you meant no disrespect to me specifically.”

His mouth snaps shut.

---