But I won’t.
When he passes me my drinks, I ask the bartender to add her drink to my bill. She looks past the others now lining up for drinks, and our eyes meet. The first flicker of indifference in her gaze shifts—and morphs into something curious. And that tiny, reckless spark awakens the beast inside me, making me curl my lips into a slow, knowing smirk before I head back to my table.
Danny looks at her and then back at me, cocking his head in approval. “Smooth,” he praises. He knows as well as I do - she’s already mine.
We are about to set up another game when a loud, obnoxious group of young twenty-somethings enter the bar, ready to flex their dick size. I scan over the six guys. All swagger, all noise, all desperate to prove something. Harmless.
Then, the seventh walks in. Tanner-fucking-Beaufort.
My grip tightens on the cue.
He’s a nepo baby of a hot-shot Boston developer with the rich kid mentality that money buys a fix for all problems—including the ones he causes. And judging by the way the bartender stiffens—sharply exhaling as he shoves his phone into his back pocket—he’s already left a mess here before.
Tanner eyes the girl at the bar. He licks his lips and prowls toward her. My knuckles are bleach white at my sides.
Mine.
I silence my obsession. Instead, I watch and wait.
He leans in too close to her, saying something over her shoulder. She doesn’t flinch. She doesn’t blush. She doesn’t even turn to acknowledge him.
Good girl.
Around him, his pack of rich-boy jackals grows bolder—hands brushing against arms, lingering too long on waists. The women tense, shifting away. People pretend not to see.
I do.
Across the table, Danny’s already watching me. The humor from earlier? Gone. He downs his beer and gives me a single nod.
We split up and prowled toward the men.
The girl swivels on her barstool to move away when the guy slaps his hand on the bar like a petulant child demanding attention, forcing her to recoil at his sudden aggression.
Walking straight into her knees, I place one hand on the bar next to her and cup the nape of her neck with the other. Her body instinctively bows to my touch as if gravity commands her to me. When her chin tips upward to look at me—there. The first look of submission. Thrill. Lust. Her body’s first betrayal.
Her turquoise blue eyes remind me of the glacial lakes of the far north, with a fleck of golden amber in the top of her right eye. Like a serene lake encapsulating a tiny island in the middle of the wilderness. Her long lashes flutter as she registers our proximity, and her full lips part, making no sound.
“You look lost, baby girl. You don’t belong here.” My voice is low, just for her. “And he’s not your problem anymore.”
She nods, her eyes laser-focused on mine. The scent of her ambrosial breath combined with the delicate floral aroma of her hair assaults my senses; I’m nearlysalivating. Tearing my gaze from hers, I lift my head slowly to confront the man-child standing behind her.
“I-I’m sorry, man. I didn’t know she was here with you,” he stutters, backing up into Danny’s chest.
I smile. Slow. Sharp. "You think every woman is prey?"
He drops the victim facade. A malicious smirk pulls at the corner of his mouth. His eyes darken. “When they look and sound like her? Absolutely. Just a small bite? You can have her when I’m done.”
I clench my jaw until I taste the tang of copper.
Wrong. Fucking. Answer.
If only he knew how little I care for vermin like him. How little our broken system’s laws nor his family’s money he hides behind can protect him.
If only he knew how creative I can be.
I could fuck him up a million ways within an inch of death and never lose sleep over it.
And I wouldn’t.
