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21
Party Till The Sunrise
~LOKI~
“Last call.”
My eyes lazily looked to the woman in the sleek red dress as she looked back to the bartender in such a graceful motion that everyone eyeing her was mesmerized by the simple move.
“One more Casa Noble on the rocks with rim candy.”
“Sour?”
“Surprise me,” she hummed and slipped a bill on the table that I knew wasn’t a dollar tip.
More like one hundred.
“On it,” he assured her. “Should I make it three?”
She smiled like a villainous queen being caught in her own devilish plan, her head tipping just slightly in my direction to see me flawlessly leaning against the pillar while I sipped the last bit of whisky in my glass cup.
“Yes, please,” she said without looking at the bartender.
Those seductive orbs of blue were solely on me.
I’d yet to determine if this was a good or a bad fucking idea after the electrifying photoshoot I’d somehow gotten thrown into.
That hadn’t been the original plan. Saint already had his vision laid out in his mind. Bringing Ruby and Whitney to aid in our quick execution had been the smartest decision to help us create the flawless photographs that would be on the shelves in less than thirty minutes.
We’d originally wanted to put the magazines out at six, but Ruby suggested four-thirty would be smarter because the sunrise would be earlier today and everyone would be rushing to get ahead of the final Christmas Eve rush before the traditional holiday arrived.
I wondered how long it would take the Vatican to react to the photos?
More importantly, how powerful would Saint even become from this grand move?
We could be empowering the true blossoming of a sinister monster without realizing it, but the only one who could probably control Saint in that state of mind was Willow.
She has that effect on all of us it seems.
That empowering trait of hers that got all eyes on her without breaking a sweat. It was like she was a succubus, only she didn’t need to have the born gift of being attractive enough to have a whole room full of testosterone under her domain.
Maybe this is what the Vile Queen is jealous of. Her dominating power.
I gulped down the harsh beverage. My eyes never left Willow’s, even when she finally looked away from the bartender’s commentary.
He was making chit chat -or maybe he was attempting to flirt with her -but it was clear from the way she purposely flaunted her hands that would either flick her temporary black strands to show the other markings on her neck down to her chest that she was emphasizing the fact that she was taken.
By a few powerful men…including me.
I could get used to this level of freedom, to stand from afar and admire the woman who’d taken me out of my solitude of hell. Simply standing here without a collar around my neck was a blessing I couldn’t really describe with just words.
From a loner walking on the eggshells of death to a forbidden surrounded by a pack of dangerous fuckers as sinister, lethal, and powerful as I’d once been in this lifetime.
There was a possibility of securing that sensation once more, returning to the man I’d been prior to falling into the Vile Queen’s clutches. I just had to make sure I did my part in protecting what had stolen me away from that malevolent cycle.
Shielding my Sweets from harm’s way.
With the photoshoot and the sudden change in the invitation date for the runway event, the next twenty-four hours were going to be fucking mayhem.
