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"Well, am I supposed to stop fate from pissing him off?" I suggested. "He saw we were minding our own business when the elevator stopped to pick him up. If I acted like a douche it would have shown."
"You didn't have to strike up a conversation," he reminded. "We talked about that."
"Being a quiet scaredy cat when a man that striking with a touch of fashion sense enters the elevator is ignoring a prime opportunity to make connections. Papa Dearest taught me that."
"He knows you'd use that against him if he brought it up."
"Thus, the reason why I used it to get a feel of this Dimitris dude. Do we have any more info on him? I tried searching like two-thirds of NYC and everything feels fake and wishy-washy."
"Still working on it," he announced.
"Why does that make me feel as though you're going to get Onyx to do it?"
"Because I am." I could see that twinkle in his eyes. "He's not very happy that you're with another man."
"Oh c'mon." I rolled my eyes. "He's not jealous."
"I told him you were centimeters apart in the elevator," he stated, emphasizing the word centimeters, which made me groan.
"Viktor? Are you trying to make my life a living hell with that bulky mass of a jealous fucker?! Does no one care about this?" I exclaimed as if I had some sort of congregation in the car.
"He's just going to slap your ass a little harder when you guys fuck, that's all."
"I'm appalled that you'd think he'd give a mere slap and call it a worthy punishment." I pinched my nose and began thinking of my options. "I wonder if we ditch now, if he would come to track us down."
"Don't bring me into this," Viktor whined. "I have somewhere to check out once I drop you off."
"Are you going to be back in two hours?" We had a rule about going to clubs and elite parties we weren't sure about. Two hours was the solid time to go around the property, blend in, grab information, have a drink or two, and dance before hitching a ride home.
Whenever I had situations like these, we used that very rule to determine when Viktor would pick me up.Unless Onyx decided to take me home.
"Yup," he answered with assurance. "Won't be long. Gotta interview someone."
"Interview as in job position, or interview as in tie them up, smack them silly, threaten to kill their entire bloodline before getting important info out of them, or just all of the above?"
"All the above," he said with a gleaming grin while his eyes darkened with mischief.
"Jeez. Lots of people are pissing off Dad lately," I concluded.
"Just the usual in the life of the richest man in NYC and mafia leader of all the underground shit. Which reminds me," he announced as he slowed down to the main gates, another car in front of us. "Watch out for a girl with pink hair."
I looked at him with a moronic express that forced him to add, "Magenta pink with orange streaks. 5'3", tanned, Hispanic, extremely bad temper."
"Whose ex did I piss off this time?" I concluded, which had him grinning again.
"Dimitris Moore's, apparently."
"No way," I gasped. "He dated a short girl like that?"
"You realize height isn't everything, right?"
"The length of one's cock isn't everything but that's one of the determining factors for women to either let go or marry a man who can afford to buy her whatever sex toys she needs to cum with his micro sized dick."
"What happened to personality?"
"Wolf shifters don't care if you're straight-out ugly," I reasoned. "Which is apparently hard to achieve when you have such gifted genetics of healing. As for personality, y'all are beasts and care about how good the sex is gonna be before it comes to looks and finally personality. It's exactly why whoever this magenta-orange chick is, she probably had Dimitris all over her because of that tight pussy action."
"I can't believe you," he said with a sigh.
