Chapter 7
Chapter seven
Dante
“Idon’t like spontaneous deviations from my plans,” King grumbled, methodically scanning the area as he made another circuit of the block.
The line for Nocturne stretched nearly that far, and it was still early.
“She has no history of partying, and she doesn’t even know this Callum character.
He’s obviously trouble. Why would she agree to this? ”
Dante chuckled, clocking the handful of alphas scattered throughout the omegas and betas in the queue for the club.
To hear King talk, you’d think they were a pack of grumpy old men who never partied.
It had been a while, sure, but probably because they’d gotten a lot of it out of their systems when they were young, before the military matured them and curbed their more self-destructive tendencies.
And, according to his colorful stories, Van had definitely done his partying back in his college and NFL days.
According to their research, Bianca Bonnycastle had never had her hoe stage.
Dante thought that was too bad. If anyone needed to cut loose and blow off some steam, it was the tightly coiled snake lady he couldn’t seem to stop thinking about.
For the entirety of the short drive, he’d been wanting to eavesdrop on the conversation happening in the back of the Rolls Royce Phantom (Dante’s favorite loaner from Pack Bonnycastle’s personal fleet), but he knew King wouldn’t like it if he cracked the partition window or turned on the intercom without Bianca’s request to do so.
He wondered if Van was participating in the conversation, or if he was just listening to the two omegas talk.
Dante was pretty sure Bianca had been slowly warming toward the big lovable alpha.
The guy had a way of growing on you. Maybe he’d maneuvered his way into sitting between them, surrounded by their alluring scents.
Dante bet it smelled like heaven shut up in that small space with the two of them. His dick twitched.
“Relax, King,” Dante admonished gently, forcing himself to focus before he lost himself in another daydream.
“You’re great at adapting the plan when necessary, and her security has been a cake walk so far.
We could use the deviation to keep us sharp, and she could use a friend who encourages her to pull the stick out of her ass. Just like I do for you.”
“Dick.” King struggled to maintain his scowl, but those full lips of his twitched beneath his mustache, and Dante caught a flash of gold when he spoke through his growing smile. “Since when do you care about her friends or her ass?”
Dante didn’t respond because he didn’t have an answer for that.
He wasn’t sure when Bianca had become more than a job—a means to fund his five-year plan to see King’s Guard Security profitable and expanding.
At some point she’d piqued his interest, and she hadn’t lost it yet.
It was odd, really. Women often caught his attention, but they never kept it long.
Though it’d been years since any of them had slept with anyone outside of the pack, Van still liked to call Dante a rake, as if they were on that regency romance show, Waverly Hills.
Thinking about that show reminded Dante that Remy Rhodes starred in it.
He also thought he remembered hearing that one of the other rich assholes in that pack of pretty boys performed at Nocturne back when the club first opened.
It brought a lot of hype to the place, since everyone loved those famous fuckers.
Dante didn’t like that Bianca had considered mating them. They weren’t right for her.
“If you circle the block again, we’re going to look suspicious,” Dante said, changing the subject. “Let me out so I can talk to the bouncer.”
When Bianca had curtly informed them that she wanted to go to Nocturne after the fundraiser, Dante had quickly gathered intel on the venue.
It was only a few years old but had an upscale vibe that felt like a vintage jazz club.
Live neo soul music only added to the casual elegance.
The main floor held booths and open tables, while a mezzanine featured a second bar and a VIP seating section overlooking the stage and glossy dance floor.
In her slinky silver dress and with her dark hair falling in waves over one shoulder like an old Hollywood starlet, Bianca would look very much at home in a place like Nocturne.
Dante learned the layout, the locations of all exits, and what precautions were in place to protect the club’s omega guests from hot-blooded alphas out for a good time—which included designation checks, required fast-acting suppressants, and the supervision of a well-trained security team.
It was a safe, classy place and Dante knew a few of the independent contractors working security.
He’d also done a quick search on Callum Clifton-Merriwether and found nothing alarming.
All in all, it was the ideal party spot for their client to choose, however spontaneously, and she and her new friend would be just fine. King was just being overly cautious.
In other words, King was being King.
And so, Dante did Dante, chumming it up with the bouncer, buttering up the bartenders, and casually chatting up the club owners about the benefits of contracting with a private firm like King’s Guard.
Practically on cue, Van and King led the two omegas to the VIP section Dante had secured for the night.
They were practically a walking advertisement: two movie-star stunning omegas, strolling gracefully through a glamorous crowd, led by the biggest alpha ever and trailed by a second alpha who moved like a predator and looked like a god. Dante swelled with pride.
“Let’s set up a meeting for next week,” one of the owners suggested.
Dante grinned. It was going to be a great night.
After making conversation with pretty much every employee he came across, Dante checked in with King, who’d taken up a position on the balcony where he could see both their private booth and the club’s exits.
King seemed satisfied with everything, so Dante decided to join Van’s post near their booth, which was considerably more fun.
Bianca and Callum had their heads close to each other, whisper-yelling and giggling.
Dante had never seen Bianca look so relaxed.
As much as he liked her hard-edged beauty, it was nice to see how she softened when she was enjoying herself.
Her gray eyes were bright with mirth and her fair skin glowed a rosy light brown.
A lock of hair had escaped her sculpted waves to curl alluringly against her neck.
Callum reached out to catch the dark strands between his long, graceful fingers, and tucked them back in place.
Dante realized he didn’t love the idea of anyone outside his pack touching Bianca so casually, but rather than wanting to break Callum’s fingers, he wanted to suck them.
When they were sufficiently coated, he’d order Callum to stick them in his tight little ass and play with himself while he watched Dante fuck Bianca’s pretty mouth.
Callum’s sexy amber eyes snapped toward Dante as if he’d heard his wayward thoughts.
When he caught Dante watching him, he flushed and said something in Bianca’s ear that made her laugh and look Dante’s way.
He smirked and winked at them, and the two omegas dissolved into giggles like a pair of teenagers.
“How many drinks have they had?” Dante asked as he sidled up beside Van, bumping his packmate’s shoulder affectionately. The huge alpha didn’t so much as budge. “We’ve barely been here an hour.”
Van grinned, shrugging his shoulders and watching the two omegas with obvious amusement. “That redheaded bartender keeps bringing them over. Pretty sure she’s just been hoping to run into you. Counting the bottle of champagne they drank in the car on the way over, and the shots they’re taking now–”
Dante followed his packmate’s gaze to see that Callum and Bianca were indeed downing shots of something colorful. Bianca wrinkled her nose and shook her head as if trying to rid herself of the aftertaste. It was adorable.
“They’ve each had about five drinks,” Van finished. “At least, I think so. That Callum is a sneaky one. If she’s a snake, he’s a spider.”
“The viper and the spider. I think I’m in love,” Dante quipped. “He’s definitely trouble of the very best kind. Their next round should be water, though.”
Dante flagged down a passing server, who promised to bring over a pitcher of water. King nodded at Dante from across the balcony, signaling that all was clear. Everything was going beautifully.
Maybe that’s why Dante found himself sauntering over to his charges under the guise of checking in on them.
He figured he should probably encourage them to order some appetizers.
If they kept up this pace without anything to soak up all that alcohol, there might be a mess in the Rolls Royce, which would be a tragedy.
God, he’d love to have a couple of those babies as company cars.
One day, Dante. One day.
The two omegas stopped chattering to watch him approach.
Dante liked the way both sets of bright eyes trailed up his body, starting at his crotch, which was conveniently at their eye level.
He grinned as he leaned over them, breathing in the intoxicating mixture of their scents.
French toast drizzled in maple syrup, topped with apples and powdered sugar. It was enough to drive a man mad.
“Finally done securing the perimeter and all that jazz?” Callum asked, cutting his eyes coquettishly and making Dante’s dick stir.
“Your packmate told me all about your rigorous security protocols on the drive over. I’m sorry for throwing a monkey wrench into your plans, but I think Operation Whimsy is a success so far.
You’re obviously good at rolling with the punches. ”