Page 5 of Violet Legacy

“Do you have any weapons?” the Atlantean asked her.

Because she would bethatstupid. “Just my charm.”

“Miss Sinha.” His voice was lyrical, the accent American, but there was a slight lilt to his tone. He didn’t sound amused.

“It’s Dr. Sinha.” Rieka turned her attention to the far end, toward the concierge. “I don’t want to be late for my appointment.”

The Atlantean looked at her for a second longer before he moved out of her way. As she walked closer to the concierge, she realized the large desk was actually a colossal shell, almost translucent. It wasn’t until she was next to it that the pale threads of color became apparent. Thousands of tones twirled along the shell, turning it into a kaleidoscope.

“Welcome, Dr. Sinha. I’m Sypha.”

There was a hint of amusement in the tone. The Atlantean’s strawberry-blonde hair was pulled back in a high ponytail with large curls hanging artfully down to their shoulders, and barely there but immaculate makeup highlighted perfect features and dual-colored eyes. The Atlantean was devastatingly beautiful. Rieka was not surprised. Atlanteans were rumored to have bred entire lineages for beauty or war. And often for both.

“Dante Delacroix is expecting you.”

Rieka nodded; her heart raced as Sypha’s words registered. She was not meeting a faceless bureaucrat.

“Kade will escort you up to his office.” Sypha leaned over and held out a metal card. Perfect pink talons flashed in the bright light, a stark contrast to the pure-white attire they wore. “If you need anything, let me know. Enjoy your visit.” Sypha sat back down and continued to work. “Elevator is to the left.”

The elevator door opened as she approached, while Kade, the behemoth from the entrance, stood unmoving beside it before following her in. Rieka didn’t think Kade was the type for small talk, and she was right. The floor numbers rushed by, interspersed with the soft ringing of elevator music. Even the wealthy weren’t spared that atrocity. Rieka looked at her reflection. She appeared put together, professional. Had even attempted to corral her unruly curls into order, the thick strands confined to a neat braid. She sneaked a glance at Kade. He remained unmoving and stared straight ahead.

“We are here.”

The elevator door opened. White light blinded Rieka as it reflected off the marble walls, and she shielded her eyes as she entered the office. She held onto her handbag as she tried to blink away the tiny black specks. Floor-to-ceiling windows surrounded her, giving her an uninterrupted view of the city. There was something almost otherworldly as the wintery midmorning sun cast the skyscrapers in a soft unnatural glow. The hairs on the back of her neck rose as she adjusted to the light.

“Dr. Sinha.”

Chapter 5

Riekastilled;herskintingled as the lightly accented voice washed over her. It was the voice of a seducer, almost hypnotic in its cadence and tone.

Dante Delacroix.

The poster child for the Atlantean elite.

Cold emerald eyes stared at her. The color was so bright he would never pass as a human. His high cheekbones and full lips looked like someone had chiseled him out of marble. Everything drew attention to him, even his perfectly tousled black hair—a touch too long to be considered conservative.

The elevator door closed behind her.

She was staring, but she couldn’t help herself. The white shirt and black slacks were tailored to fit his muscular frame. Dark olive skin peeked out under the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, where she could see a sprinkling of black hair scattered along his arm. An expensive silver watch flashed in the light. Heat flushed through her as she snapped her attention back to his face. The last thing she needed to be doing was ogling the Atlantean. It wasn’t hard to see why humans had worshipped them as gods. The species were coldly beautiful and just as vicious as the ancient Olympian pantheons.

She was out of her league—screwed. And not in the good way.

No one came out a winner when you negotiated with a member of the Delacroix family.

She pushed back her shoulders and held out her hand. “Dante Delacroix, I presume.”

He returned the handshake. It was firm, but not overpowering. “You presume correctly.”

There was no hint of emotion in his gaze, and there was no mistaking the feeling that he was searching for any sign of weakness that he could exploit. She would be damned if she gave him an opening. The Atlantean exuded power from his every pore. Like he controlled the very air surrounding him. But Rieka had never walked away from a challenge. Even if Dante was far more dangerous than the guards he surrounded himself with. An illusion designed to make his guests feel like he was one of them. A false sense of security.

“It’s not every day I get to meet someone prettier than the statues I have studied.”

Dante blinked at her slowly, the intensity of his gaze never wavering. “I’ve never been described as pretty.”

The filter between her mouth and brain must have stopped working somewhere between getting into the elevator and meeting Dante. No, Dante was not pretty. He looked like a dark angel, ready to avenge God’s wrath. Rieka snorted. “Maybe not directly to you.”

The view was nowhere as intriguing as the Atlantean by her side. She’d heard stories about Dante and his ilk. Most she’d thrown out as exaggeration, but perhaps there was a level of truth to some of them.

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