Page 355 of Sinfully Savage Mafia

The taller one pulls open the door to the first place we come to called Velvet Lounge and I let out a shallow breath. Good fucking pick, guys. It’s dark and private, which is a very good thing for me, especially in terms of a quick exit.

My throat tightens as I step inside the door.

They’re not letting me go.

If I were them, I’d keep me close, too.

They obviously had business to take up with Vigo, so naturally, they’ll want to know who butchered him. And I can’t very well tell them the truth, that tonight was a setup to lure Vigo to Tatiana so a killer queen could go in and slay the bastard.

I have to focus on getting the hell out of here and disappearing into the night, leaving their questions hanging in the air.

This girl, this wig, this dress…none of it can exist outside of Velvet Lounge.

And if I want to stay alive, I need to bury it all immediately, if not sooner.

Lucky for me, I have the perfect out. I just need to get to the ladies’ room.

I clutch my bag, holding it tight against me as my heels click against the floor of the lounge. Part of me wonders why they haven’t tried to snatch it from me, not that they’d find anything interesting.

But they seem awfully trusting of someone who was just found crouched in the same room as a murder victim…a dangerous scumbag murder victim who’d committed too many crimes against humanity to even count.

I guess I’m a better actress than I thought.

They don’t seem the least bit threatened.

The shorter, dark-haired guy points me in the direction of the bar, giving me a little shove to move forward, and I grit my teeth.

Okay, really? Does he need to lead me around like I’m his fucking pet? I shake off his hand once we’re standing in a somewhat private corner of the bar, unable to bite my tongue for a second longer.

“Listen,” I say. “You don’t need to pull me around like I’m on a leash. I did not fight you. I came here with you as you requested, even though I begged you to let me go home.”

A look of surprise flits across his face and a smile lifts his lips. “Sorry. Maybe I just wanted to keep you close.”

“Keep me close?” I roll my eyes. “Please. After the way you frisked me at Tatiana, I think I you owe me a freaking marriage proposal.”

“Let’s start with your name, and then we can see how the night unfolds,” he murmurs, his lips lifting into a seductive smirk.

“Shocking.” I lift an eyebrow. “There are so many other questions I thought you’d have asked first.”

“Don’t worry. We’ll get there,” he says, waving over the bartender.

“One drink,” I say through gritted teeth.

“Maybe.”

“Definitely,” I seethe, almost letting my Americanized accent lace my words. He doesn’t catch it, though, since he’s too busy trying to liquor me up. Jesus. He doesn’t yet realize I can drink him and his friend under the table. I’m Russian, for Christ’s sake. I have vodka running through my veins instead of blood!

Although, the tall guy has the look of the Irish. I bet he can do some damage to a bottle of Jameson.

Jameson. That’s the name I’m giving him since I sure as hell know he’d never tell me his real one.

The bartender places three doubles of a clear liquid in front of us, but I make no move to grab my glass. Instead, I fold my arms over my chest.

“Is that the game we’re playing?” Blue Eyes says with a chuckle. I study him hard. Let’s call him Gio. He looks like he could be a Gio. I get that whole slippery, slimy, yet sexy and seductive vibe from him.

Gio hands Jameson one of the glasses, and both of them tip them back, gulping down the liquid and then slamming the glasses back on the bar.

After the shit I’ve seen and done tonight, I can really use a shot.

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