5: The King's Scrutiny

Sarah's pov

The first two hours passed in a blur of drink orders and learning Betty's system for managing the bar. She showed me where everything was kept, how to work the register, and which customers to watch out for when they'd had too much to drink. The work itself was easy enough but the constant awareness of those three men watching me made it hard to concentrate.

"You're doing fine," Betty said during a brief lull around nine. "Most new girls get flustered their first night but you're handling it well."

"Thanks. Is it always this busy on a Thursday?"

"This is actually pretty slow. Wait until Saturday night when the other clubs come through. That's when things get interesting."

I wiped down the bar and refilled the ice bins, trying to look busy while keeping track of what was happening around me. The blonde man had moved to the pool tables where he was hustling some younger guys who didn't realize they were being played. The dark haired one sat alone nursing a whiskey and watching the room like he was waiting for trouble to start.

Cain Volkov had disappeared down the back hallway about an hour ago and hadn't returned. Part of me was relieved because his presence made me nervous in ways I didn't want to examine too closely. But another part kept glancing toward that hallway, wondering what he was doing back there and when he'd come back.

"Two beers and a jack and coke," someone called from the end of the bar.

I grabbed the bottles and started mixing the drink when I felt it. That same prickling awareness that made the hair on my neck stand up. I didn't need to turn around to know Cain had returned and was somewhere behind me.

I finished making the drinks and delivered them before allowing myself to look in his direction. He was standing near the bar entrance watching me with an expression I couldn't read. Not hostile but not friendly either. Just intense focus like I was a puzzle he was trying to solve.

He walked over and sat on a stool directly in front of where I was working. Up close he was even more imposing than I'd realized earlier. Broad shoulders, strong hands, and those gray eyes that seemed to look right through whatever mask I was wearing.

"How's your first night going, Ivy?"

"Good so far. Betty's been helpful getting me up to speed."

"She's good at training new people. We've had a lot of turnover in the bartending position lately."

"Why's that?"

Cain smiled but there was no warmth in it. "Some people can't handle the atmosphere here. They get nervous around the clientele and make mistakes. Mistakes can be dangerous in our world."

I met his eyes directly, channeling Ivy Blake's confidence. "I don't get nervous easily. Takes more than some bikers drinking beer to rattle me."

"Is that right?" He leaned forward slightly and I caught his scent. Leather and smoke and something else underneath that I couldn't identify. Something that made my pulse quicken despite knowing how dangerous this man was.

"That's right. I've worked rougher bars than this."

"I doubt that." His voice was quiet but there was steel underneath the words. "The Iron Horse in Portland is a biker bar but it's nothing compared to what happens here. The men who drink in this establishment have done things that would give your Portland bikers nightmares."

He was testing me and I knew it. Trying to see if I'd back down or admit I was in over my head. But Ivy Blake wouldn't be intimidated by veiled threats.

"Then I guess I'll learn something new. I'm not afraid of hard men or hard work."

Cain studied my face for a long moment. "You've got attitude. I like that. But attitude only gets you so far when things get real. When someone pulls a knife or decides they don't want to pay their tab, attitude won't keep you safe."

"What will keep me safe?"

"Knowing when to keep your mouth shut and your eyes on your own business. Knowing which conversations you didn't hear and which faces you don't remember. This bar sees a lot of traffic and not all of it is social."

He was warning me without being explicit about it. Telling me the Vulture's Nest was used for more than just serving drinks to club members. Deals happened here, plans were made, and people who asked too many questions could end up like Tommy.

"I understand. I'm here to serve drinks and collect tips, not to get involved in club business."

"Smart answer. But understanding something and living it are two different things. We'll see how smart you really are over the next few weeks."

A customer called for another round and I moved to fill the order, grateful for the excuse to break eye contact with Cain. Being this close to him was doing strange things to my nervous system. My heart was racing and my hands felt shaky when I reached for the beer bottles.

When I returned, Cain was still sitting there watching me with that unreadable expression.

"Can I ask you something?" I said, deciding to push a little and see how he reacted.

"You can ask. I might not answer."

"Why'd you hire me so fast? Most places want references and background checks before they put someone behind the bar."

"We're not most places. I make decisions based on instinct and my instinct says you'll work out fine here."

"And if your instinct is wrong?"

"Then we'll deal with that situation when it arises. But I'm rarely wrong about people."

The way he said it made me wonder exactly what his instinct was telling him about me. Could he somehow sense I wasn't who I claimed to be? Did he suspect I was a cop or was I being paranoid because I knew the truth?

"What made you choose bartending?" Cain asked, shifting the conversation. "Pretty girl like you could probably make more money doing other things."

"I like the work. You meet interesting people and every night is different. Plus I'm good at reading people and knowing what they need before they ask for it."

"Are you good at reading me?"

The question caught me off guard. I looked at him carefully, trying to figure out what kind of answer he was looking for. Cain Volkov sat there relaxed and confident like a king on his throne, but there was tension in his shoulders and something in his eyes that suggested he carried weight most people never saw.

"I think you're someone who's used to being in control and doesn't like surprises. You're protective of what's yours and you don't trust easily. And right now you're trying to decide if hiring me was a smart move or a mistake."

His expression didn't change but something flickered in those gray eyes. "Not bad for a first impression. What else?"

"You've lost someone important. I can see it in the way you watch everyone like you're waiting for the next betrayal."

The words came out before I could stop them and I realized immediately I'd gone too far. Cain's face went cold and the temperature around us seemed to drop several degrees.

"Careful, Ivy. Reading people is useful but reading too much can be dangerous. Some things are private and should stay that way."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to overstep."

He stood up from the stool and I suddenly realized how much bigger he was than me. Not just taller but broader, more solid, like he was made of muscle and violence barely contained under human skin.

"You did well tonight," he said, his voice back to that neutral tone from earlier. "Betty will give you the schedule for next week. Show up on time and don't cause problems."

"I won't."

Cain started to walk away then paused and turned back. When he looked at me this time, there was something different in his expression. Something almost hungry that made my breath catch.

"One more thing, Ivy Blake. I don't know what brought you to this town or what you're really running from, but everyone who walks through that door is running from something. This place attracts broken people and lost causes. We protect our own here but we also punish those who betray us."

"I'm not planning to betray anyone. I just want to work and earn a living."

"Maybe. Or maybe you're looking for something you lost and think you'll find it here. Either way, you should know what you're getting into."

He moved closer and I had to resist the urge to step back. This close I could see flecks of silver in his gray eyes and smell that strange scent that seemed to come off his skin.

"Welcome to our territory, little star," he said quietly, and his voice carried a weight that made the words feel like both a greeting and a threat. "Hope you survive it."

Then he was gone, walking back to the table where his two companions waited. I watched him go and tried to calm my racing heart. The conversation had felt like a chess match where I didn't know all the rules and Cain was always three moves ahead.

Little star. Why had he called me that? And why did the words settle in my chest like they meant something more than just a casual nickname?

I turned back to the bar and caught my reflection in the mirror behind the bottles. For just a second, barely long enough to register, my eyes looked different. Not green but gold, bright and otherworldly like they had that night in my bathroom.

I blinked hard and the image was gone, replaced by my normal appearance. But the memory of it stayed with me along with Cain's parting words.

Hope you survive it.

I was beginning to think survival might be harder than I'd anticipated.