el

dproof door of the VIP lounge, carrying the stench of sta

dangerously short black lace slip dress-an outfit two burly pack

ly flat. "You are overstepping your boundaries by testing his patience, Miss Foster. A

t to cover my exposed skin and shot him a fre

the brass handle, pulled the heavy door open,

t. Pain shot through my kneecaps as the loud chatter inside cut off, replaced by a dozen pairs of glowin

, Alaric sat with his long legs crossed, a lit cigar between his fingers as he w

k red bottles on the low glass table-Blood-Rum, a high-proof fermented liquor br

, his low voice cutting through the

olf let out a piercing whistle, slapping his knee. "Damn, President K

e. I planted my palms on the floor and tried to stand up, only for Alaric to release a r

pride in my body until I confes

ross the ash-stained rug to the glass table and pick

forward, clamping his hairy, grime-crusted hand around my wrist and y

ll glass tipped over, splashing dark red liquor stra

gue roared, jumping up and raisin

e blow-only to hear the terrifying crac

the room in a blur of Alpha speed, his iron hand twisting the one-eyed Rogue's fo

like a sack of garbage, pulled a white silk handkerchi

a cruel sneer. "You can't even pour a drink without making a m

y head. My hand shot out, grabbed a full glass of Blood-Rum from the t

ked in a sharp breath, staring in horror as dark red droplets rolled

s hand, he reached down, clamped his fingers around my throat, and ha

winter cedar mixed with spilled liquor filled my lung

l," he breathed against my ear, his voice

cking applause. Gideon Slate, the ruthless young Alpha of the ri

lace hem before he grinned at Alaric. "If you're done playing with this usel

rag doll as he turned to face Gideon, his territorial aura flaring sharply. "The

thirty percent of the west-district underground black market

looked at me curled on the sofa, his dark gray eyes cold and

a fruit platter on the side table, my fingers closing around the handle

ke a single word: "Deal." Without a backward glance, my husban