Page 41 of Pride: Kneel Before None

In this case, the revenant thought he could achieve godhood by eliminating anyone who stood on a pedestal of power in Superbia.

I shook my head. “After the revenant was neutralized, they traced the Glayze back to Tighe. Rip promised he’d smooth things out if he kept his mouth shut, that it would only cause more problems if he started dropping names.”

Quietly, I added, “Didn’t keep his word and left him to rot instead. Shocking.”

In one fluid motion, Ace raised his glass of bourbon and tossed back what remained in one smooth swallow. He leaned forward in his seat, using his empty glass to point at me. “We’ll get your brother out of Blackscale, but we are doing it my way. Understand? That means you’re going to be a good girl and do exactly what I say.”

Bristling, I mirrored his posture as I met his stare head-on. “I don’t need your help to get Tighe bailed out.”

A condescending laugh devoid of actual humor slipped free from his smug grin. “You think merely bailing him out is going to make this go away? Fuck, you’re naive in more ways than one, Eve.”

Both my hands slammed down on the shimmering gold tablecloth as I stood up. “You can go fuck yourself. I refuse to be part of your manipulative schemes and a pawn in whatever sketchy agenda you have.”

Other diners around us quieted, eyes darting in our direction. Their attention on the scene unfolding at our table only bolstered my resolve to prove him wrong.

“Don’t pretend that you’re invested in this because of my brother. I don’t need my foresight to tell me that Rip has dirt on you, enough that it has you sweating underneath that overpriced suit of yours. I’m willing to bet on it.”

When I was finished saying my piece, the look on Ace’s face wasn’t anger; it wasn’t even amusement. He looked mildly impressed with both his brows lifting just enough to depict mild surprise.

“Willing to bet on it? Little Spade, need I remind you that didn’t work so well in your favor last time?” He stood from the table, buttoning his suit jacket with unnerving calm.

Rounding the table, he stopped at my side, his arm snaking around my waist as he leaned in close. His lips brushed against my ear as he spoke in a dangerous whisper.

“Where would my Little Spade like them?”

When the look on my face conveyed that I didn’t follow his question, he chuckled and dragged his nose along the sensitive spot below my ear. His arm banded around my middle marginally tighter, his hand splayed out on the curve of my ass possessively.

“Your lucky seven.”

CHAPTER 14

The look on Eve’s face when the first crack of my palm landed on her ass in the middle of Cinders & Marrow had been fucking priceless. Seated on the piano bench—given up freely by the songbinder when my eyes flickered with smoldering hellfire—Eve remained stretched out over my lap.

“This is wholly inappropriate, you motherfucking heathen!”

Her hissed protests fell on deaf ears, not just mine but most of the others in the dining room with us. This wouldn’t be the first time something of this caliber occurred in a place like this. Surely wouldn’t be the last either.

If she were concerned about her dignity, she shouldn’t have been. “Little Spade,” I purred as I leaned over her. “This hotel prides itself on indulging unforgettable experiences. I’m merely contributing to the atmosphere.”

I smoothed a hand over the curve of her ass, giving it a light pat afterwards.

“Besides,” I added. “There’s candlelight. That makes it fucking classy.”

Her sputtering went ignored. Irrelevant.

“Two,” I counted preemptively as my hand struck right where the tops of her thighs met the round of her cheeks. Her whole body jolted forward with the impact. The stinging in my palm was nothing compared to the prickling heat she undoubtedly felt.

I kept her pinned right where she was, letting the evidence of my hard dick press up against her stomach.

“I will kill you!” she screeched.

Holy hell, that’d be a sight to witness her try. I’d love to see how she fought when she was too busy being split open on my cock. I’d bear those battle wounds with pride.

“Five more and we can get on with our evening,” I advised her, as if I was taking note of yet another dry and disgustingly hot day.

She shot me a scathing look over her shoulder with eyes lit up like twin sparkling oases in the desert. The flush of her cheeks was likely a mix of anger and embarrassment in a self-righteous little package tied together with arousal.

I dipped two fingers beneath the hem of her dress, dragging them along the crease of her panties. The contact sent a full-body shudder through her.