Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 55839 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 279(@200wpm)___ 223(@250wpm)___ 186(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 55839 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 279(@200wpm)___ 223(@250wpm)___ 186(@300wpm)
“Yes, I’m in charge,” I say, staring at the two-story brick building sprawled across acres of land. That phrasing makes me feel less out of control as Roman drives past the bubbling fountain and sophisticated greenery in front of the club.
He stops at the valet, and a tall man hustles over to open my door for me. I slide out of the vehicle and stare at the oversized doors of Club Greed. Behind them are all the people who have paid astronomical sums of money for access to my brother’s exclusive sex haven.
Roman reaches me and places his hand at the small of my back. “Ready to pretend, babe?”
Although I’m sure it’s part of the charade, his husky endearment sets off a series of tingles through my body. “Yes.”
The bald man guarding the front doors greets Roman and then…we’re inside the club. It’s much like I remember. Elegant and extravagant. An enormous golden chandelier hangs above the gobs of people mingling in the main area. To my right is the long bar, with fluorescent red bulbs running its length. On the left-hand side, a grand staircase with white limestone banisters leads up to a private floor where Dev has his office.
Roman guides us through the throng of people to the bar, and the bartender working gives him a smile. I don’t miss the curious gaze she shoots my way when he orders our drinks—a glass of white for me, and a bourbon on the rocks for him. In less than a minute, I’m sipping my drink, letting myself peruse the club.
The atmosphere crackles with activity as the weekend crowd fills the club, but a shift in energy occurs as the notorious Chekov brothers make their entrance. Their presence commands attention, and heads turn as they navigate through the throng of people, heading straight for the bar. It's impossible to miss the power that surrounds them, a legacy inherited from their father, the daunting leader of the Russian bratva.
I lean in close to Roman, my voice barely a whisper against his ear, the words tinged with apprehension. "We won't be in a room with them, will we?"
He follows my line of sight. “I’d never let those motherfuckers anywhere near you.”
My insides throb with need when he says the words. I so dig the protective vibe.
“Good,” I say back.
We finish our drinks and head toward the hallway partitioned off with a gold rope.
My heart is beating like a jackhammer.
I’m nervous.
I’m never nervous.
My palms are slick with sweat as the bouncer unlatches the rope and tells us the common room is the second door on the left.
As we head that way, I’m sure I look like a moth being led to a flame.
“I won’t let anything bad happen to you,” Roman says reassuringly. “There’s going to be a bunch of people in this room doing all sorts of things. Kind of like a strip club.”
“I’ve never been to one of those either,” I whisper to him.
He nods. “I know.”
“Am I that obvious?”
“Yes, but you have nothing to worry about with me around. You can trust me.”
He leads me into a sophisticated room that has a soft purple light casting a warm glow on everything. Plush, oversized couches and chairs are arranged around low coffee tables, and there’s a black stage at the back of the room where a few scantily clad ladies dance with each other.
I avert my eyes, my cheeks flaming hot, when I see their bodies through the thin material they’re wearing. My gaze lingers on a few couples making out on one of the couches. This is definitely a place you leave your inhibitions at the door because they have no qualms about touching each other while others watch.
I’m not sure if anyone even noticed us entering the room. Is this really worth going through with?
“Are you sure this is a good idea?” I ask Roman, not letting go of his hand.
He dips his head so only I can hear him. “Yes. More people will come and it will turn into a party atmosphere. We could always talk to the Greedy Girls who work in this room.”
“For what?”
Roman’s intense stare burns into mine. “Bane’s a member here. We can do some investigating while we’re pretending.”
I nod. “I like that idea. So, girls work in this room?”
“Yes, they’re like the hostess. They’ll get us drinks, or food. Sometimes, they join in the fun.”
My throat grows dry. “How often do you party here?” I hear the words come out of my mouth, even though I don’t want to hear the answer.
Before he can respond, a dark-haired girl in a shimmering sky-blue mini-dress saunters into the room and up to Roman. “I’m Starlit. Do you need anything?”
To his credit, he keeps his eyes on her glamorous face and not her enormous tits. “Nice to meet you. We’re good for now.”