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Ripping it from between my fingers, he scans it with a black handheld device until it beeps, signaling it’s approved. It doesn’t look like anything I’ve seen before, and I’ve seen a lot with my job. Before he hands my ID back, he grabs my hand forcefully, stamping on it. I have to swallow down the snarl that’s threatening to escape from his rough palm touching me. Looking down at my hand, the black ink soaks into my skin, revealing the same three interlocking circles on the door.
The bouncer’s eyes linger a little too long on my body for my liking, before letting me walk through. A shiver runs down my spine, but I quickly shake it off and get back to my mission.
Ed Sheeran’s “Galway Girl” blasts through the speakers, indicating the party’s already started. The bass of the music vibrates the floor beneath me as my heels click against the white marble floor. Red and blue lights fill the room flashing around the giant area. The main floor is one big open dance floor with booth seating around the perimeter. To the left is a DJ booth and a neon light-up dance floor, packed with dancing people.
In front of me is a huge bar with neon blue lights illuminating the white counters. That’s when I notice, other than the colorful lights, this place is a slate of white. The simplicity makes it look so pristine and beautiful.
After dodging a few drunk dancers, I move through the room to the white marble stairs leading up to the second level. The man at the bottom gestures for me to lift my hand, only letting me through when he sees the black symbol stamped on my skin.
The upstairs is aesthetically the same as the main floor, white with neon lights, but there’s significantly more seating. There are multiple sections with S-shaped couches surrounding what looks like a stage. An identical bar to the one downstairs sits in the corner and tables line the edges of the room.
After making a pit stop by the bar to grab a drink for something to hold while I look for my target, I head to the glass railing overlooking the dance floor, pretending to sip my drink as I watch, trying to find Novak.
My eyes catch on exactly who I’m looking for. Ross Novak. Lawyer, fraud, and downright disgusting human being. The reason he’s popped up on our radar is because he loves to cheat his clients out of tons of money they win in settlements. He skims a little off the top each time, keeping it for himself and off company books. He then turns every other lawyer in town against them when they try to seek justice, spinning stories about each client, painting them in a bad light. The man is obviously a money-grubber, and he has to have a lot of dirt on other lawyers to get them to turn down innocent clients. Who’s to say he wouldn’t go further to get his money than what we know of?
Now I have the club theory to potentially tie him to the crimes. The more you rotate, the more people you’ll come across that have plenty of money to steal.
He’s wearing dark wash jeans and a white dress shirt with the top two buttons undone. His pitch-black hair is slicked back and his Rolex watch shimmers under the neon lights. He has a sharp jaw, high cheekbones, and light stubble lining his face. Under the lights, he really is handsome, but the knowledge of his scummy ways makes me want to punch him in the face. The smug expression on said face makes him look like a grade-A prick.
He leaves a redhead he’s talking to and heads to the bar. This is my chance to get him somewhat alone. Walking down the stairs, I try to go as fast as I can in these stupid heels without falling. I’m so focused on not losing him in the crowd that I almost miss a step, causing my stomach to drop while my ankles wobble to keep me upright.
Once I make it to the bottom, Novak turns with two drinks in his hand and starts walking back toward the woman he was chatting with a few minutes ago. He shoots her a disgustingly charming smile, handing her the pinkest drink I’ve ever seen.
Shit.I was too slow.
My eyes don’t waver from his movements while the woman turns, grinding her ass against him as her short green dress rides up her hips. If I had to guess, I’d bet he’s sporting a boner, something I definitely don’t want to see. Just the thought sends a shiver of disgust through me because she’s probably just another person for him to take advantage of, not knowing the true monster that has his body pressed against her.
The hairs on the back of my neck start to prickle the longer I watch them. The weight of someone staring at me comes crashing down on me, literally invading my social awareness and giving me an uncomfortable hunch. Pulling myself into fight mode, I look around to check out my surroundings, trying to figure out where this sense of foreboding’s coming from.
My suspicions are quickly confirmed when my gaze lands on the three tall, handsome men standing behind the bar. But only one of them is looking directly at me—the one on the end with the pale pink hair and tattoos covering his arms and neck. I can’t help but stare at the designs twirling up his thick forearms, making me want to get closer to see the designs for myself.
His gaze doesn’t waver when I catch him staring; he obviously doesn’t care one bit that I know. Though it’s too hard to tell what color his eyes are, his expression is filled with curiosity and what seems like...lust.
Breaking my attention away from the mysterious stranger, I shift my eyes back to the dance floor where Novak and the redhead are still dancing, now in the corner near a dark secluded hallway.
I wonder where that leads to.
When I look back over to the bar, I realize the men accompanying the pink-haired guy have the same person in their sights as I do. They’re watching Novak’s every move, just like I have been.
I don’t know who these men are or what they want with Novak, but I don’t need to draw any more attention to myself. I head to the middle of the dancing crowd, trying to look like I’m here to have a good time. My dancing is atrocious, it always has been, but I need to blend in. At least my dancing skills can be blamed on too much to drink.
Novak snakes his arm around the redhead, heading down the dark hallway. I almost crash into a woman as I try to rush past her to keep him in my sights.
Large, forceful hands grip my hips from behind, making me flinch while my heart races. My first instinct is to fight, but I don’t know who’s behind me, and I can’t blow my cover risking the whole operation.
Taking a deep breath, I will myself to relax, spinning my head to get a look at the man. He’s leaning down so when I turn, my cheek brushes against his. Out of the corner of my eye, I see a flash of pink.
Pink hair.
The man who unashamedly ogled me with lust.
Great. Now I’m going to have to blow my cover to take care of some man that can’t take a hint and keep his hands to himself.
“What do you want?” I jerk my head forward so his deceivingly soft skin isn’t touching me anymore.
“You know… I probably have a bigger dick than him,” he purrs into my ear. The low rumble of his voice sends a shiver down my spine. It’s raspy and deep, playing into my wildest fantasies.
I turn on my heels to face him, feeling a fight coming on. “What?”
