Total pages in book: 20
Estimated words: 18860 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 94(@200wpm)___ 75(@250wpm)___ 63(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 18860 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 94(@200wpm)___ 75(@250wpm)___ 63(@300wpm)
I turn to look at a clean-cut blond guy in a classic fit three-piece suit sipping his beer while his hand is groping for the girl beside him.
“That guy doesn’t respect women.”
“She could be his girlfriend,” I suggest.
“Oh, no, honey, that’s not his girl.”
His hand falls off the girl’s ass when a brunette comes closer, abandoning his plaything to kiss the dark-haired girl on the cheek.
“That girl is his woman, honey. Poor thing doesn’t know she’s with a slimy reptile.” She shakes her head and looks at the woman wistfully. “Oh, I got off track, didn’t I? Your word is red if you want the play to stop and yellow if you want him to slow down. Remember, honey, use red if it’s too much, okay? Some predators take it a little too far.”
I nod, smiling at her. Inside, dueling voices scream at me. Questions about how bad this thing becomes that she feels the need to prepare me for it extensively. How dark do some predators get? Then the other voice taunts me with words of encouragement, telling me this is exactly what I need. This is what I want. To be hunted.
“Well, I’ve got to make the rounds.” She rises, picks the tray up, and adjusts it in her hands. “You have fun out there and be safe, honey.”
My eyes roam from my now empty cocktail glass to the man with no face. His head is tilted back, shoulders moving up and down. He appears to be laughing at whatever the guy beside him said. I keep staring at him, wondering if the mask is to hide him from the masses. Is he someone important who doesn’t want anyone to recognize him, or is the mask about something else?
I’m caught up in my thoughts and ideas about this man when his head shoots up, and he gazes directly at me. His eyes connect with mine. Bright blue, haunted irises, like nothing I’ve ever seen before. Hypnotic, clear, and feral like a wolf. They captivate me in their trance from across a crowded room.
Chapter Three
Mikhail
“She’s pretty.” Stella. She’s talking to me, but I can only focus on the little mouse sitting across the room.
In a room over-saturated with half-naked women, she’s the only one who’s caught my attention, and all she’s wearing is a simple dress that falls above her knees. Yellow, sunny and sweet, which sticks out like a sore thumb in a place like this. Her ankles are crossed, and she appears meek, helpless even. The girl is completely out of her element. Her dark eyes are captivating, a rich brown that could easily be mistaken for black like the raven locks falling past her shoulders.
Nothing I’ve seen in life surpasses her beauty. She’s captivating. My cock thinks so, too, since it surged to life the moment she set her almond-shaped eyes on me. She never breaks eye contact, our own secret game of chicken.
Yet something is disturbing her. I don’t want to think it’s because of me since I make everyone around me uneasy, even those closest to me. Her long delicate fingers fidget with her empty glass, and her knees move subtly from left to right. A girl like her in a place like this should be a little hesitant. This place isn’t for the weak of heart, but that she even walked in these doors is enough to gain my respect. She must be taking part in the hunt. Why else would she come here?
A snap of fingers. “Earth to Mik.” Stella’s voice. She’s talking to me, but I’m not sure what she said.
“Yeah?”
“I said she’s pretty.”
She’s not just pretty. She’s ethereal. I shrug, trying to pull my eyes from the trance she’s put me in. My hands twitch at the idea of having her coal-black hair wrapped around them.
“Who is?” I know full well who she’s talking about, but years of secrecy and hiding emotions have made trusting even those who deserve it difficult for me.
“The pretty girl you’re looking at like some sort of snack.” Stella shamelessly gestures toward the little mouse. “You know, the one over there with the black hair sipping on an empty glass of ice that you can’t seem to take your eyes off. Maybe you should buy the girl a drink.”
“No complications,” I grunt, then turn to the server beside me and drop a hundred on her tray. “You see that girl there with jet-black hair?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Get her whatever she’s drinking.”
Stella chuckles. “I meant, go up to her.”
“No.”
“Why not?” Stella pouts.
“I don’t exactly put people at ease, Stella. The girl already looks like she’s about to bolt.”
I’ve never been a man who makes people comfortable, especially women, and that’s how I like it. I revel in causing fear in others, and knowing that no one will ever mess with me again gives me a sense of peace.