Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 82439 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 412(@200wpm)___ 330(@250wpm)___ 275(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82439 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 412(@200wpm)___ 330(@250wpm)___ 275(@300wpm)
The music continues, the other girls still performing for the crowd, their movements practiced, sensual. But my focus stays on Eva, the only thing that matters in this room full of vultures. I lean in closer, pressing a kiss to her neck, hoping to ground her, to remind her that I’m here with her, that she’s not alone.
“It’s okay,” I whisper into her ear, though I’m not sure if I’m trying to reassure her or myself. The tension in the room is thick, and I know this isn’t over. Lazarus and the others are watching, waiting for something. And I have to figure out what the hell it is before it’s too late.
Chapter 28
Evangelina
Have you ever had a bad feeling about something? Like, so bad you know you should run for your life, but your legs refuse to move? That’s exactly how I feel right now, standing here, giving Benedict a lap dance. My body is on autopilot, swaying to the rhythm of the low music, while my mind is screaming at me to flee, to get as far away from this place as possible. But I can’t. Not with all these eyes on me, not with Benedict gripping my hip so possessively.
His touch sends a different kind of shiver down my spine, one that makes me want to melt into him. We haven’t spoken about what happened between us before I was attacked. Before everything went to hell. But right now, with his firm hand pressing into my skin, that tension between us feels electric. It’s almost too much to handle.
Part of me wants it again. All of it. The feel of his skin on mine, the heat of his breath against my neck, the way he kissed me like I was the only thing that mattered. My heart pounds in my chest as I move against him, and I can feel the intensity radiating off him. I can’t help but wonder if he feels the same.
But even as my body craves his, my stomach churns with fear. I’m terrified—scared to death of being in this room, in this situation, with the Delgado family watching us. Lazarus sits at the far end of the room, his gaze like a predator’s, always calculating, always watching. Enzo is no better, his leer making my skin crawl. I can feel their eyes on me, sizing me up like a piece of meat, and it takes everything in me not to flinch, not to show how much I want to crawl out of my skin and disappear.
Benedict tightens his grip on me, pulling me closer, grounding me. His face is calm, but I can feel the tension in him. He’s angry—furious, even—and I know it’s because of the way these men are looking at me. It’s like he wants to tear them apart, one by one. But we’re playing a dangerous game, and we both know it.
I keep moving, my hips swaying gently as I pretend to be lost in the music, but my heart is racing. The fear of what might happen next is nearly paralyzing. What are we even doing here? Why did we agree to this? I glance around the room, seeing nothing but shadows and faces I don’t trust. These people… they could kill us if they wanted to.
Benedict’s hand slides up my back, a reassuring touch that’s meant to calm me, but it only intensifies the internal conflict raging inside me. I want him so badly. I want to forget everything else and lose myself in him. But I can’t. Not here. Not now. Not with Lazarus Delgado smiling at me like he’s already decided my fate.
I glance down at Benedict, his eyes locked on mine, and for a moment, the fear loosens its grip. He’s here. He’s got me. But even as I cling to that thought, the reality of where we are, the danger we’re in, seeps back in like a cold, unwelcome fog.
The music shifts, the bass deeper, more intense, and the men around us start clapping, egging us on, their voices slurring with alcohol and power. I try to focus on Benedict, to block out everything else, but it’s impossible. I can feel Lazarus watching, his gaze heavy and expectant, waiting for us to slip up, to give him a reason to strike.
I force myself to keep dancing, to keep pretending everything is fine, but I can’t shake the feeling that something is about to go horribly wrong.
“Suck his dick,” Lazarus bellows from across the room, calculating and controlled.
My eyes widen as I gaze back at Benedict. I shake my head slightly, like we can’t possibly agree to something so drastic.
Lazarus stands, crossing the tiled floor of the club with purpose until he’s standing right next to me. “Do it,” he whispers close to my ear.