Chapter 3 Aniyah
ANIYAH
Shit! I was going to be late. Looking at the clock on my nightstand, I decided that I would do my hair later. I simply swirled it around up top my head, fine with the messy bun look for now. It was just my siblings after all.
Three solid knocks came from my front door, and I yelled in response as I went into my closet.
“I’m coming! I’m coming!” I paused for a second, giggling at the words I’d spoken to my stoic bodyguard on the other side.
I’d been working on him for a year, wishing I could yell those words while his dick was inside of me, but he was a tough nut to crack.
I’ll get him someday. It's only a matter of time.
Scanning my closet that was half the size of my apartment, I snatched my satin Prada D'Orsay pumps with jeweled heels. No matter what kind of day I was having, sparkles made it better.
Like an unwanted alarm, a flat, emotionless male voice boomed, “You’re going to be late, Miss Glovefox.” Hating that he was right, I hurried out the closet and across the room, throwing open the door to face my militant, sexy timekeeper troll.
“You know it takes time to look this effortless.” His bright citrine-colored eyes passed over me.
His pale green skin was covered in battle scars that gave off a hardened be-scared-of-me vibe that was handy since he was my mostly silent shadow.
He nodded at me, no other response than that.
I was going for a little more expression than that—maybe a chuckle or a small smile—but no, he was already heading to the elevator.
Alic Gorgof was not the type to focus on anything but his job, keeping me safe and out of harm's way, but I’d been doing my damndest since the day we met to get him to crack out of that super strict bodyguard role. Maybe today was the day.
Shutting the door behind me, I strode down the hallway, armed with idea number two in my ongoing mission to get underneath Alic’s skin…
or just underneath him. My hand slid up the center of his broad shoulders, looking impossibly small against the expanse of solid muscle.
A slight twitch beneath my fingertips had me smiling.
“You know,” I murmured, letting my voice dip with a husky edge, “I’m a boss too, Alic. I can be late if I want to.”
We both knew that was a lie, not the boss part, but the rest of it.
E would likely roast me over coals, flaying me until all the meat on my bones melted off for being late.
No one, not even her siblings crossed Ezra Desmond, but it was still fun to see her lips pinch when I logged on just a few seconds past the agreed-upon time.
The elevator dinged open, and he held the doors, offering nothing but that impassive, hard stare and thin-lipped expression.
I made a point of dragging my gaze over him.
His overwhelming size was packed into a tight black shirt and pants that did nothing to soften the raw strength beneath.
His scuffed black boots looked big enough to double as weapons, both the length of my damn forearm.
I was average height for a female, and the heels I always wore gave me a few extra inches, but next to him, I still looked like a pixie next to a giant.
He pointed to his wrist, then to the elevator—a silent warning that he didn’t have time for my games.
Fine. Time to switch tactics.
I batted my lashes and bit my bottom lip as I looked up at him through lowered eyes, pressing my chest lightly against his solid frame.
“You know,” I purred, my voice thick with suggestion, “you could help me take the edge off… right here in the elevator.”
Every word dripped with heat, my gaze flicking deliberately to the metal box. The invitation was unmistakable—there was no way he could pretend to misunderstand.
He paused, giving me just a glimmer of hope that things might go my way today. That was until his jaw clenched and those unfazed canary-colored orbs glared down at me in irritation. “Please get in the elevator, Miss Glovefox.”
Determined as ever, I pressed in closer, letting my stomach glide against the hard line of his cock while my fingers explored the grooves of his sculpted abs.
Male or female, no one had ever resisted with this much of my body against theirs, looking up at them like they were a decadent treat I fully intended to devour.
No one except this man.
His unmoving arms finally shifted, and for a moment, I smiled, thinking I’d cracked him. Then he grabbed my biceps, lifted me like I weighed nothing, and set me inside the elevator like a child being put in the corner for being bad.
Before I could even protest, he stepped in and slammed the button panel like it owed him money. As the doors slid shut, he coolly muttered, “Excuse me, Miss Glovefox. You’re on a tight schedule.”
My nails dug into my palms, pulse racing with the need for vengeance.
This man had politely refused me for the hundredth time.
Did he not have a pulse? Did trolls have a natural aversion to fairies?
I mean, every living being was attracted to fairies.
Not only did we feed on life essence, we were the epitome of living magic, making it so both humans and supes of all kinds were drawn to us.
Partner our natural allure with our illusion magic, and we were a shoe-in to dominate the sex trade. We were desire and sex personified.
So, why was this male fighting against me so damn hard?!
Staring a hole into the back of his enormous short-haired green head, I reminded myself that I had plenty of options for bed toys. I wasn’t going to beg him, not even for the sheer thrill of a conquest. It wasn't worth it.
Instead, I crossed my arms and ignored him the whole way down, continuing my silent treatment as I crossed my apartment lobby with him in tow. If he wanted to be the anti-fun invisible bodyguard, then so be it. He could live in his perpetual state of dissatisfaction.
I didn't have to dwell on it for long since my apartment was right next to the club. Jogging up the steps and down the hallway, I smiled and waved at Randy, the grumpy werewolf I’d hired to keep out the riff-raff.
The Winged Palace was a high-end, membership-based establishment that only catered to those unique and high-paying customers that valued the best quality sexual experience.
This was not the place for bachelor parties, anyone just coming off the street, or any curious looky loos.
Only serious money walked through those doors.
Randy’s cheeks reddened before he nodded at me.
I could feel his lingering gaze even as I turned and walked through the hidden service door.
While he was a sourpuss to everyone else, he was a darling peach to me.
That could be because I signed his paychecks, or that I was Glovefox boss of the Syndicate and he knew not to fuck with me, or it could be because I was so damn charming that even his crusty shell couldn’t help but soften.
Whatever the reason, I didn’t mind. I liked it all the same.
I patted my thigh and called over my shoulder, “Come, come, my can’t-give-up-the-dick babysitter.”
Alic’s clipped sigh echoed behind me, and satisfaction filled my bitter soul.
It was the only sign he was truly annoyed, and that was enough to make me grin as I strutted toward my office, heels clicking with every step.
Don’t you worry, my little troll. I’ll crack you someday.
Even if it takes a lifetime! Multiple lifetimes!
You’re my Everest, and I will climb you!
A glance at my phone told me I was veering dangerously into late territory, so I picked up the pace. Behind me, Alic’s heavy footsteps pounded a steady rhythm, a silent told you so I could practically feel… and I wanted to stab him for it.
It took him only a few strides to overtake me.
He opened the door with that maddeningly blank expression, but I swore I saw a smug glint in his eyes that only filled me with rage.
Maybe I was seeing things, or maybe the fresh rejection had made me feel a little raw, but dammit, I wanted to see his face crack. Feel something. Even if it was hate.
I jabbed a finger into his chest, hard enough to hurt myself. “Who the fuck do you think—”
“Aniyah, how lovely of you to finally grace us with your presence.”
The voice froze me mid-sentence, sending a chill down my spine.
“During an official Syndicate meeting of bosses, no less.”
That cool, sarcastic monotone drew my attention to the center of the room, where a shimmering, three-dimensional projection hovered in the air, showing miniature images of my siblings.
My older sister’s form flickered slightly as her brow arched, eyes flicking from me to Alic with a knowing look I didn’t like one bit.
Smiling so hard my mouth hurt, I muttered, “Sorry about that.” Turning away from Alic, I whispered a single word in a low, harsh tone from the side of my mouth. “Go.”
His normal spot here would be either at my office door or, if I was on the floor, in the security room. He moved out of the way, standing against the wall as I shut the door behind me and walked to my desk where my siblings were waiting.
“Ni, you still giving Alic a hard time?!” The mini version of my sister Nova shook her head at me, her hands flying around as she continued. “I trained him my goddamn self! Why are you still fucking with him?!”
That's exactly the problem! I’m fucking with him instead of him fucking me! But I couldn't really say that, so I shrugged.
Making a show of sitting down and shuffling some papers around, I kept my tone passive.
“I don't know what you're talking about. I was having a simple conversation with an employee. He’s not on your payroll anymore, is he?” When I looked up at Nova, her wolfish smile got the best of me, and I couldn’t help but smirk back.