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Voodoo queen
Marcellus
Marcellus had his black silk robe and black pants on. A smile crept up to his lips as he tugged the cigarette between them, nesting his glass of liquor on the table beside the couch he sat on. He recklessly swung his other arm behind his head.
Lyra, as she'd called her name said nothing after he'd given her a three–day offer. She merely just walked away. But he was confident—too confident to say the least. He could tell she found his offer irresistible, he saw desperation in her eyes when he'd gazed into it.
He saw hesitation and restraint in them, but he was sure she would break and would come running back to him in the next three days. Either of them had what the other wanted; she wanted a job, he wanted her blood. It was a win–win situation for both of them, even though she knew nothing of his intentions towards her.
He couldn't help the smug smiles that found thei
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