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“Do you really want to play the ‘why are you here’ game?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking—”
“Okay, if you insist. I’ll go first. Why were you at Leo Stavrin’s restaurant on Friday night?”
Her face pales. She swallows, her lips pressing together. Her hand tightens on the stem of her wine glass so hard that I’m legitimately worried it’s going to snap.
But slowly, like the goddamn pro that she is, she swallows it all back. Her mouth twists into a grimace, and her eyes turn accusatory.
“Were you following me?”
“Answer the question.”
“I don’t have to answer a thing, you arrogant dickhead,” she mutters. “What I do on my own time is none of your business.”
“Well, I’m making it my business.”
She glares at me. “Hades, I do have other clients, you know.”
“Whom you see at one in the morning?”
Her eyes flare. “Stalker much?”
“Leo Stavrin is not a client of Crown and Black.”
“Why do I feel I don’t have to mention that his boss, Gavan Tsarenko,is?”
“Gavan wasn’t at The Pearl of the Black Sea the other—”
“Oh my God, you’re a complete lunatic.” She shoves her chair back, standing abruptly as her eyes bore into me. “Hades, stop following me. Leave me alone and stay the fuck away from my career.Please. I do have other clients besides you and your family. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m leaving.”
She makes it almost all the way to the glass door out to the main dining room.
Almost.
“Do those other clients know that you enjoy putting on a cat mask, going to kink clubs, and getting fucked like a bad girl?”
You can hear the record scratch on her life as she comes to a frozen stop. Her entire body tenses and then convulses, and for a second, I’m worried that she’s about to vomit. Her back to me, I watch her shudder, her hands clenching and shaking at her sides.
“Dothey?”
Elsa takes a shaky breath, shivering.
“I have no idea what you’re—”
“You have a small mole just south of your left breast, on your ribcage.”
She flinches. Hesitantly, she half turns her face toward me, not meeting my eyes.
“No, I don’t—”
“And a birthmark in the shape of two overlapping dots, like a Venn diagram, on your inner thigh.”
Whatever color is left in her face drains through the floor.
“That…no…” she mumbles. “That isn’t true—”
“Yeah? Well, it sure as fuck is true that you took my cum four fucking times the other night. Twice while deep in your dripping wet pussy, once across your back and ass, and once more down your throat like the greedy little cumslut that, apparently, you are. Tell me that isn’t true,kitten,” I hiss. “Just try. I wasthere.”
