LOGIN“What does he look like?” Anja queried, attempting to ignore the raise of Sienna’s perfectly manicured eyebrows as petite hands nudged an empty glass in Anja’s direction. “I’m not your damn sommelier.”“Uh, tall, muscular, shaved head, brown eyes, nose that looks like it’s been punched a few times…” She trailed off, taking a tentative sip of her wine in an attempt to stop herself. She could’ve talked about the dimple buried between the bristles of his chin or the gentle bow outlining his ruddy upper lip, about his broad, rugged hands or the deep, chiseled lines etched beneath the fabric of his shirt, but the disgusted look breaching Sienna’s ivory skin snapped her back to reality. Elford’s words echoed forebodingly; He is dangerous. Far more dangerous than you could imagine. Yet she’d spend all night dreaming of him – lustful earthen eyes observing her, the heat from his rough palm against the small of her back, how her heart had thrummed rhythmically at the sight of him. “Yep, that
Artificial lights illuminated earthy brown eyes and the glint of white teeth behind thick lips as Jon smiled, his steps noticeably shorter in an attempt to maintain her pace. It was hard for Zoe to focus on much else."Are you a new waitress?"Zoe let out a soft chuckle, shaking her head. "No, I've worked here for years.""Bullshit." Austere features softened as he laughed, almost incredulously. "I would've noticed you well before now.""I usually work behind the bar.""What's your deal then?"Scrunching her nose in confusion, she tilted her head. "My deal? What does that mean?""Yeah, I mean, you seem like a nice girl, and the joint isn't really filled with up-and-coming members of society. Surely there's other job you could do that don't involve a bunch of fuckin' criminals?"This wasn't a conversation Zoe wanted to have in general, let alone with the handsome stranger she'd just met, and she silently thanked the universe when the neon blue lights of Roz's dinner brought a halt to t
A shock of platinum blonde hair weaved through the rowdy crowd. Zoe watched it zigzag before Sienna Beckett, one of her closest friends at SubTerra, arrived in front of her, slightly out of breath.“Oh my God, Elford just came in and told Simon what happened! Are you okay?”Swallowing the hard lump in her throat, Zoe felt the reality sink in once more. The tiny hairs on the back of her neck prickled, the feeling of clumsy, rough fingers yanking at her zip lingering, while her biceps burned from the skin stretched by grubby hands. She knew that she'd have never been able to get herself out of that situation... without him. Gently rubbing her arms, in a futile attempt to erase the memory, she felt Sienna wrap around her, a comforting hug as she sighed. "Oh, honey." Sienna broke away, her hand reaching down to find Zoe's. "Come on. Si wants to see you."Leading her through the crowd, svelte elbows outstretching every so often to create more space, Sienna ushered her into Simon's office,
The dark silence of the parking lot was a stark contrast to the rambunctious atmosphere of the powerful and covert club, SubTerra. A sizeable crowd had formed by the wood-stained bar, predominately men squawking provocatively in an attempt to cajole the bartender to serve them first. After receiving their drink, they sauntered back to one of the several tables littering the burgundy carpet in front of the large stage. Currently, two women were performing, standing ahead of their band. Some patrons watched, others conversed while the rest were engrossed in the game of football that streamed on the massive television to the left of the dimly lit room. Security guards were scattered throughout, although most were stationed at the doors, their eyes continually scanning the room, waiting for the inevitable shit-fight to erupt. Shouts of disapproval echoed over the music as an official threw a flag for pass interference against the Giants. Zoe watched as the guards braced themselves.Steppi
Dangerous.Patrons and staff of SubTerra used only one word to describe Jon Moretti; dangerous. He was one of many dangerous men who walked through the clandestine establishment, and yet Jon Moretti was the one they warned her about. Career criminals, thieves, arsonists, gang members, murderers… the club was a prestigious hub, built specifically to give these menacing people a place where, ironically, they could feel safe. A place they knew police officers wouldn’t be barging through the door to arrest them, thanks to a low-key business agreement between the owner, Frank Muscovado, and some crooked government officials with the power to sweep the booming business under the rug.So, when people had warned Zoe about Jon, she had laughed. Not because she hadn’t believed it, but because they were hypocrites. They, themselves, conversed and associated with a vast array of these dangerous people. Hell, some of them were those dangerous people. It hadn’t mattered to Zoe anyway. She had had n







