Page 2 of The Devil's Angel


Font Size:  

The wild mop of red hair comes out of nowhere, drawing my attention from the cage to her and leaving me stunned, a rare feat, I might add. I catch a glimpse of her for only a brief moment before she disappears. I draw my hands from my pockets and grab the railing in front of me, leaning forward for a better view, but I don’t see her when I look down.

Are you fucking kidding me!

Am I so stressed out that I’ve started hallucinating, or is there really a woman here? I made it clear to my men not to let anyone unknown into the building tonight, and bringing a woman into a room full of animals is inviting trouble. I already have enough to deal with the Russian mob, and now this! If indeed there is a woman here, then someone is going to pay tonight.

I might be going back into the cage after all.

With an angry growl, I push away from the railing and storm to the stairs. One of my men rushes forward, shrinking back when I throw him a menacing scowl. “Boss . . . is something wrong?”

“There is a woman here. Red hair. Find her!” I snap. “And then bring me the person who let her in!”

The man pauses, and I watch as his face goes sheet white. He has every reason to be scared of what I will do when we find the woman. Unless there is a man with long, pretty red locks, someone is facing me in the cage tonight.

I walk away from him and start in the direction I spied the redhead run. For the sake of my men, they better hope I imagined her, but . . . there she goes again.

I catch the streak of red hair again when someone in the crowd moves out of the way, and this time, I don’t spare a second as I rush toward her, grabbing her by her wrist before she can make her way through the crowd of men.

“Hey!” she cries out when I spin her around, steel-gray eyes locking on mine, and . . . I forget how to breathe.

For a long minute, my lungs refuse to function as I stare down at the most beautiful woman I have ever seen, and her innocent eyes stare back at me with something akin to curiosity, not an ounce of fear on her face.

I find myself lost in those glittering eyes, and I forget where the fuck we are or the fact that this pretty little thing should not be here. I am held in a trance by a book's definition of a siren. Every moment I spend staring at her, I find myself drawn deeper, and it’s not until she speaks that I am snapped out of whatever spell she’s cast on me.

“You’re hurting me,” she whispers, tugging at her wrist, but I don’t let go.

“What are you doing here?” I say gruffly, my voice coming out scratchier than I’ve heard it before.

“None of your business!” she snarks, but I notice whatever bravado I read on her face is now gone. Her brave attitude slips further away the longer I stare down at her. “Let go of me!”

“Not until you tell me who you are and what you are doing here.”

“I . . . I don’t . . .” she stammers before quickly collecting herself. “Why do I have to tell you anything?”

“Because I am the man in charge. Now stop wasting time, little girl, and answer me. You won’t like what happens if I have to repeat myself.”

“Oh,” she whispers, eyes widening as she bites into her bottom lip. “I didn’t know I wasn’t allowed here.”

She’s stalling.

I notice something else I missed when I was drowning in my desire for her. She has a little bit of an accent to her voice. I would have missed it if it wasn’t my job to notice such things.

Russian.

The thought puts me on high alert, and I tighten the grip I have on her wrist, pulling her away from the curious looks we’re drawing and toward the stairs that lead up to my office. I ignore her protests as I drag her along, closing the door and locking it once we’re inside.

“Hey, what are you doing? You have no right—”

“Ivanov,” I spit out, the name leaving a bitter taste in my mouth. “You are from the Ivanov family.”

“So, what about it?” she says stubbornly, falling back into her pretense of bravado as she folds her arms over her chest, pushing up her breasts and drawing attention to her cleavage. My cock fills up in an instant, and I can’t help that my eyes drop to her generous tits. She’s wearing a low-cut top that reveals her long, elegant neckline and exposes the perfect swell of her breasts.

“Did they send you?” I ask, lifting my eyes back to hers. “Think carefully before you answer, little girl.”

“Stop calling me that, I’m twenty-one,” she protests with a pout that I want to lean in and bite. “No one sent me.”

“Don’t lie to me—”

“Hey, you are the one who grabbed me from the crowd and dragged me up here without a word. I don’t even know you!”

Source: www.allfreenovel.com