Room Eight

SAPPHIRE

For the first time in my life, I don’t know what to say.

“Krasavitsa, ne davay nam provesti etu noch' v odinochestve.”

Entranced by the flow and dip of his native language, I stand there and blink up at the one I know as Gregor. Neatly combed hair, his light beard trimmed short with attention to the details. Sexy. Rugged yet refined, too.

“Beautiful, let us not spend this night alone,” the other I know as Lev translates smoothly in a deep voice smoother than warm honey over leather. Tousled dark hair reveals a wild side but the expensive suits tell me they have refined tastes.

With them towering over me it’s impossible to escape the way their heat reaches for me. They have the blood in my veins simmering with lust.

But their pack is incomplete. The third, the true alpha of the trio is still missing.

Overhead lights dim, signaling the start of Belle’s performance. Inside these walls, no one cares about your pedigree. Not a single soul here looks at me and thinks she’s an undertaker, a pawn. Trash.

Especially not these two.

Lev straightens his cuffs, never taking his eyes off me.

“Beautiful? You have a smooth way of sweet-talking to your prey.”

Lev’s well-shaped lips pull back in a smile as Gregor takes my hand in his. Together they move forward and before I know it we are sitting in the booth, each one on either side of me with the table blocking any chances of escape.

“Maybe. But it doesn't change the facts.”

I get the first mind-warping hit of their colognes. Not overwhelming. Clean, masculine. Fucking intoxicating.

Unforgettable.

Lev is on my left, Gregor on my right.

My hands begin to tremble as their eyes brush over my heated cheeks and the plump pillow of my bottom lip like they want to test the softness.

Club Sin membership consists of one-percenters. From blue-collar workers to everyone in between. It’s not the size of your bank accounts that give you status within these walls. Once you are slipped an invitation, you’re welcomed into a whole other world apart from the one that exists beyond those doors. In here your fantasies, your kinks, your ability to deliver another’s deepest desires…that’s your currency and value.

And the only reason they must be entertaining the idea of seducing me. I’m just a lone woman in a crowd. It’s easy to pick me out because there’s no way they remember me. I’m the only one sitting alone. Simple math.

It’s been too long and our interaction was minimal at best in their eyes.

For me, the day they were in my cousin’s office trying to work out a peace treaty and expand neutral territory for the benefit of all is the day I discovered I like my men dark and broody.

I couldn’t stop thinking about them. I looked up everything there is to know about the Southern Alliance. In the media they are evil. Responsible for multiple killings and turf wars. They are feared on the streets, considered fair, and don’t go looking for fights. But they will put a bullet in anyone who messes with what they consider theirs. Under them, their territory prospers in ways it did not under Elyah’s father.

Bad blood between our families kept my cousin from forming a deal with them two years ago. A mistake I think he still regrets. The bloodshed between the two alliances is ugly and has cost lives.

They command respect and the acknowledgment they believe is deserved. It’s in the way they keep their shoulders pinned back and their chins angled high. They want others to know they have the power in any room they enter. They are the alphas and everyone else will submit. Two of them together draw the eye of nearby members, both male and female. I can’t imagine the attention all three of them together would garner.

And right now, I’m pretty sure I have a beacon over my head that is blinking the status of my V card in neon colors making me prey in their predatory eyes.

Startling green and dangerously dark. The contrasts are astounding and arousing.

I hold those gazes, unblinking. But inside I’m wrecked. Bands tighter than the world’s strongest steel wrap around the walls of my heart. I scan the room looking for the third of their crew. Dotted among the lounges are mainly trios and quads of men looking to share a woman for a night. Waitresses weave throughout the opulently dressed crowd. But he’s nowhere to be seen. When I feel brave enough, I let my gaze roam to theirs again.

Speak, Sapph.

I’m locked in place and suddenly I know what Red Riding Hood felt like with the big bad wolf. Only I have two hunting me and their fangs are sharp and deadly.

Through the small gap between them, I see Belle slip into her lover’s arms for a quick cuddle before moving to the stage. I try to ignore the stab of longing but it’s nearly impossible.

“You live your best life, Belle.” I send up a quiet prayer that one day I will know what it’s like to have someone who wants me so deeply. It won’t take her long to find the courage to share her feelings with her men. When that day comes all of them will have happiness most of us can only dream about.

The audience quiets to barely a hushed hum of voices, but absolutely none of this is as important to me as having two-thirds of the Southern Alliance surrounding me.

A callused hand moves over the top of mine where it’s resting on the table. I note a few details I couldn’t notice from across the room.

I lift my chin to look into Lev’s dark eyes. A shadow flickers over his face. Remnants of what I saw a few moments ago when he was speaking with his friend. Pain rakes across his handsome features as if a bad memory drifted across his mind. And then it’s gone.

I thought I knew darkness. But looking into his eyes I see I am not the only one who has a past they rather not speak of.

But he locks his emotions down and the sensual man with the heated cravings returns in full glory.

To say I am not intimidated would be a bald-faced lie. I’m drowning in self-doubt and a lack of experience in the seducing arena. I perceive the heat rolling off their bodies and then it collides with mine. It’s demanding and seductive. Alluring in a way a fire is to a bug.

My gaze roams over our sole connection. The inked skull covering his hand stands out with blackened eye sockets and a white rose flourishing out of its mouth against the backdrop of tanned skin. Tears of blood drip down the ghostly white sides to cover the rose. It’s as beautiful as it is haunting.

The cool metal of his rings creates deep contrast to the heat of his skin.

“We couldn’t help but see you with your friend tonight.” There’s a broad intonation to the way Lev’s words move over his tongue eloquently with his accent. Not too thick, but noticeable all the same. Smooth and deliberate.

He takes my small hand in his larger one and brings it to his lips. Holding my gaze in the low light, he places a kiss atop each knuckle. Slow methodical.

Nervous of who they are and who I am, I have to remind myself to breathe before I pass out in their arms. While people might know my name here, no one outside of Genesis knows I am the new undertaker and for good reason. The fewer people who know what I do for a living for the family the better. Especially after the stain of my father’s crimes. Some people in the underworld have long memories.

Make that all of them.

“I hope you don’t mind our joining you.”

Gregor’s voice is smooth as smoke over dark wood. His accent offers hints of his Russian roots as well.

Using the liquid courage courtesy of Don Julio, I sit up a little straighter against the cushioned back. I take a shaky breath and open my mouth. “Mind?” I speak up. The show has started and the casual vibing music is distracting. So are subtle moans and whimpers from the crowd. “You seem to have given me little choice in the matter.”

The sensual husk to my voice is new, but I’m too deep to turn chicken now. I move a little left but when I do, my thigh bumps into the man on my right.

Gregor’s fingers are now moving to gather my hand in his to mirror the way his friend holds my other captive.

Both are wearing flawless suits. Ties snitched up to the throat neatly. Both have black on black and smell like sin rolled in billions of dollars. Crime when committed with the precision of Van Gough pays lucratively and these two have mastered their artistic techniques.

Is it me or did they move closer?