Total pages in book: 187
Estimated words: 184867 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 924(@200wpm)___ 739(@250wpm)___ 616(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 184867 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 924(@200wpm)___ 739(@250wpm)___ 616(@300wpm)
I swallow away the lump in my throat, viscerally aware of the blade settled beneath my dress.
He parks the car outside a grimy-looking parking lot enclosed with a broken wire fence. There are not a whole lot of streetlights in this area of Crescent Vale City, and the place looks eerie this late at night.
Ares opens the doors, but I hesitate to get out. He walks to the other side of the car and holds out his hand, waiting until I grab it, but I’m not prepared for how warm he feels and just how snugly my hand fits into his.
But the moment I exit the vehicle, I spot a rat running across the parking lot, and I squeal out loud. “A rat!”
Ares pulls me to him, my back pressed against him as his arm envelops me, and he slaps a hand in front of my mouth. “Shh … Don’t scream. Don’t shout. Don’t let anyone know we’re here.”
I frown, confused.
When he finally pulls away his hand, I whisper, “Why?”
He tilts my head toward the building we’re in front of. On the door is a symbol with bones on it … And my whole body feels like it’s going numb.
“Where we’re going, people disappear without a trace,” he whispers into my ear. “Once you’re in there, you don’t exist until you come out safely. Do you understand?”
I nod, my feet wishing I could turn around and flee, but my head telling me to waltz right in there.
That symbol … I remember it as vividly as the day my father died.
“Don’t let go,” Ares says as he hooks his arm through mine, and we walk up to the door.
He knocks a couple of times in a strange pattern, after which a slide is opened. Someone peers at both him and me, and my heart begins to race.
The door opens, and the guy steps aside. “Welcome to The Tomb.”
“The Tomb?” I whisper as we head down the stairs. “What is that?”
“Part of a network of underground dealers and hustlers.”
“Wait … Mafia?” I mutter.
He nods, and we enter a main area where a ton of people dance to music blasting through the square basement. There are many doors and more hallways, most blocked off by scary-looking guards.
“Come with me,” Ares says, hauling me through the crowd.
“What are we doing here?”
“I have a rendezvous with a particularly hard-to-find regular,” he says, swooping me across the dance floor until we’re in the middle, where he wraps his hands around my waist and sways me around.
Ares pulls me close, too close for comfort, as I can hear his heartbeat through his chest. “Pretend we’re dancing.”
He spins me around and pushes my ass against his hips so I’m forced to sway along with him, his hand on my waist, guiding my body to move to the rhythm. One hand grabs my hand and lifts it to drape around his neck, fingers slowly sliding down the back of my arm, causing goose bumps in their wake.
“Make them believe it,” he whispers into my ear.
“Who?” I murmur, having trouble focusing.
I can hear him smirk. “Everyone.”
I try my best to move to the music, but my heart races in my throat because of where I am right now … and with who.
This place is a gateway to hell, and I’m dancing with the devil coaxing me to lick its flames.
His hand slides down my chest, and I suck in a breath as it dips between my legs, only to narrowly avoid my most sensitive area. On purpose, of course.
He spins me around again and pulls me close to his chest, rubbing his hand over my ass. And I don’t think I’ve ever hated something as much as being turned on by dancing with my enemy.
“Do you see that hallway behind me?” he whispers in my ear.
I nod while trying my best to ignore his hand as it rolls around my ass.
“Tell me when you see a chubby man with a yellow bow tie enter.”
That’s oddly specific.
“Keep dancing,” he says, swirling me around, only to end up in the same spot while I keep my eyes fixated on the hallway.
But his hands … God those hands of his make it hard to concentrate.
“Having trouble focusing?” he asks.
“Shut up,” I retort.
He smirks and spins us around until we’re both facing the hallway, and his hands are all over my waist and hips again. “Can’t be as hard as my dick.”
My cheeks glow red in the dark, and I’m so glad these strobe lights hide most of it from the people in front of me.
Good God.
He rubs himself up against me, and my body zings in response to the way he so expertly sways me around. It’s almost like he does this daily. The thought of him dancing with other people really doesn’t sit right with me, but I keep my mouth shut.