He tapped his watch, and the air around him shifted like a barrier had melted away. The rich metallic sting of blood, the weight of hollow ground, the stillness only vampires carried. All that was missing was the slightly sweet note that born vampires had, which meant he was made. A turned vampire.
His lips curved, flashing fang as if it was the last piece of evidence I needed. It was so darn cute, giving him a boyish charm that made me bite the inside of my lip. I hated it.
The crowd behind him erupted at the end of the fight, the timing uncanny. I rolled my eyes, hands tightening at my sides.
“Mr. Mecariee,” I said, jaw tight, focusing on what I was here for. “I’m going to be straight with you, even if you’re not giving me the same.”
Instead of arrogance, his eyes softened, tilting down like I’d just bruised him. I didn’t buy this wounded-puppy act. Not for a second.
“Look, I just need?—”
“This isn’t how I pictured our meeting,” he said smoothly, tapping his glass. The bartender refilled it instantly. He took asip, smiling. “That’s good. A sweet tooth. Just another thing you and I have in common.” His laugh followed, a soft sound, and I eyed him like I was waiting for the other shoe to drop. “I told you, I’m not here to hurt you. Relax.” He motioned to the stool beside him.
Crossing my arms, I lifted a brow and puffed out my chest in disbelief. “I’d like to see you try. Even with your goons—which Icouldhandle—you’d still die in a puddle of the blood you guzzled tonight.”
His laugh burst free again, rich and genuine, and I’d be damned if my stomach didn’t clench at the sound. It was beautiful, magical, reminding me of moonlit trysts and seductive whispers. I hated it.Maybe if I repeat that enough, I’ll start to believe it.
“How about this,” he said, green eyes fixed on me. Despite the crowd bustling around us, his stare said I was the only one in the room who mattered. “Tell me what you need, and I’ll help you get it. Deal?”
8
CONRAD
“Pssh. What the fuck are you playing at?”
The way her luscious pink orbs sparked for a second before icing over with mistrust sent a rush of heat through me. Something about her staring me down like I was some gutter-level hustler, a nobody, dumb enough to think I could con her, nearly made me laugh out loud.
But I knew she wasn’t the one being tested. I was.
She was the one I should’ve been afraid of, the Syndicate’s legendary fists, a woman who could tear me in two and walk away with blood glistening on her hands, her name still untouchable. And yet… I couldn’t summon the fear I should be feeling. All I could think about was how gorgeous this ballbuster of a woman was. How just hearing her rich timbre did something to my insides.
Throwing my hand out, I tried to steady the air between us and build a fragile bridge since she clearly hated that I’d hidden my species. “How about we start with you calling me Conrad?”
She didn’t so much as twitch. Her arms stayed crossed, her tone sharp as an executioner’s blade. “You can call me Boss Rossey.”
My jaw ached from holding back the grin that wanted to spread across my face. She thought she was putting me in my place. Instead, every clipped word, every bite of ice in her voice only made me want to taste the heat I knew was simmering underneath.
First and foremost, I was a businessman, but none of my previous business deals had ever made me this hard.
Well, if it was over seven figures, I got a bit of a chub.
I’d built my empire by staying in control and picking the right untouched markets, like the turned supes market. Everyone knew the Syndicate had a firm hold on the supe community as a whole, but there were always cracks when you made a fist. Always a small minority group that was being left out, and that was the turned supes.
Partnering that untapped market with the elite humans that wanted the thrill of being right in the face of a beast, experiencing it up close and personal, I had found myself a little gold mine.
It wasn't easy being a turned vampire who was trying to court fancy humans. I had to claw my way up the ladder, going from making back-alley trades all the way up to boardroom contracts where the big boys took me seriously, but I wanted more freedom. I wanted to enjoy myself instead of always working for the next deal.
To do that, I needed a solid partner, one who had the manpower and knew what they were doing. It was just my luck that one ofher men showed up, trying to be sneaky about needing tickets for a high-value client.
?*The second I caught her leaning on the bar, all that carefully crafted control right in front of me, I was transfixed. Something in my veins pulsed for her, hard and relentless. Gravity somehow bent around her, dragging me across the floor.
The room fell away. All I saw washer. Hot and warm temptation sculpted by the gods and wrapped in feminine discipline. Liquid denim jeans hugging every muscle, a short white top stretched across her breasts, and a cropped jacket covering her arms. She was a statue of strength softened by the mouthwatering swell of her hips and chest.
I told myself to lock it down, to swagger over like this was just another business move, an opportunity to capitalize on, but the moment her scent hit me, my plans detonated.
Floral honeysuckle, sweet and decadent, crashed through my lungs, tearing my careful chains apart. My fangs ached. My vision sharpened. My mouth watered. Every inch of me screamed to devour her, blood, body, and soul.
Need rippled through me, hot and urgent, muddling my mind. My instincts clawed to sink into her veins, to drag her against me and make her mine. I tried to play it cool, not letting her continued rejections of my advances deter me. It only made me want her more.
