Chapter 11
After he left my office, I dove back into reviewing the financials.
The club was quite profitable, despite the padding for the Azzaros’ operations.
The problem was that my focus kept returning to the space where I had put Gavriel on his knees and then owned the man responsible for killing my father, only a few feet away.
The memory of the way his tongue had worked my pussy had me shifting in my seat, and when he’d slid into me?
Fuck, it had been good dick. The man knew how to use it too.
A hate fuck was fine. Right?
But with Gavriel Azzaro?
He was sexy as fuck. Not to mention the fight in his eyes. The way he’d fought me but given me power over him. I still couldn’t believe that I had been able to make one of the most powerful men in the city drop to his knees without any previous conversation or agreement.
You have a senator and a DA doing your bidding. Gavriel Azzaro is nothing.
If I had to sleep with the fucking enemy to get my revenge, then I’d do it. I would take the Azzaros down. They—no, Gavriel Azzaro would pay for killing the only person worth anything in my life. Even if it destroyed me.
Around eleven, I finally decided to close the laptop and head downstairs to take a look around.
Once on the ground floor, I nodded to one of our membership associates and walked into the main room.
Dim, soft light spilled from the ceiling, washing the room in a hazy glow that left the farthest corners shrouded in shadow.
There were low, plush couches, each a different shade of burgundy and dark blue, scattered throughout the space, provided a shred of privacy, but not so much of it that someone would be able to get away with nonconsensual acts.
Taking a deep breath, I let the music pulse against my nerves and took in the fact that the place at least didn’t smell like debauchery.
There was a subtle musky scent in the air, but I couldn’t exactly place it. It could have been the scent of sexual desire or the polished dark mahogany wood of the bar to the far right, its shelves stocked with bottles of various colors.
A part of me smiled at how my father had carefully created a landscape of desire, without looking cheap.
The raised platform at the far end, barely a foot high, had a couple preparing for a performance.
My gaze lingered for only a moment before I weaved my way through the crowd to the bar.
I saw Gavriel talking to a woman with long blonde hair and just about as much clothing as anyone else in the room, which wasn’t much.
She was clearly trying to coerce him into something, but he seemed to be politely declining the offer.
When his gaze met mine, I gave him a small nod and turned toward the bartender.
“Whiskey sour, please.”
His gaze looked over me, and there was clear confusion on his face. “Where is your button, ma’am?”
I reached my hand out to shake his as I said, “Elin Perkins. Joel’s daughter and now partial owner of the club.”
Blinking quickly to regain his composure, he shook my hand before saying, “Nice to meet you, Ms. Perkins. Whiskey sour, coming up.”
“Didn’t expect you to be a whiskey gal.” Gavriel’s voice was close to my ear, so I could hear him clearly despite the booming music in the room.
I tried to ignore the fact that the feel of his breath on my skin instantly had my heart racing and the memory of his face in pure heaven as I’d stood on his balls earlier.
Slowly, I turned toward Gavriel. “Now, now, Pretty Boy. Did I give you permission to be so close?”
The bartender placed the tumbler down in front of me, his focus bouncing between the two of us.
A slow smirk lifted Gavriel’s lips before he leaned back and then against the bar. “Glad to know your eyes are working.”
So, it’s going to be like this? Let’s play, asshole.
“Of course you’re pretty. Pretty egotistical.
Pretty entitled. Pretty stuck up. Pretty fucking stupid to think I’ll ever like you.
” I arched an eyebrow as I glared at him.
“You didn’t answer my question, but I’ll feed you your line this time.
No, I did not give you permission to be that close to me.
” I leaned in, ignoring how good he smelled and how much I wanted him on his knees in front of me again.
“I’m leaving. Don’t forget what I said earlier.
” The words came out low and firm. It wasn’t quite my domme voice, but there was no questioning the weight of the order.
His gaze dropped as he squared his shoulders. “Yes, ma’am.”
Interesting.
Tipping back the liquid in my tumbler, I relished the warmth of the whiskey, letting it ground me before I turned on my heel and walked out the door.