6 - LEXI - "DON´T PLAY WITH YOUR FOOD"

I get to Nox late in the afternoon. Samiel asked me to work the night shift — the hours they keep — and even though it doesn’t make much sense, I agreed. For ten times my old salary, I’d work upside down if they asked me to.

The spreadsheets that now live in the system are so precise, so polished, that all I can do is comb through them line by line. Just yesterday, they told me all the accounting was done by hand. Now it’s all here, perfectly entered into their software. Perfect. Too perfect.

Strange, like everything else around here.

It’s already night when I step into the game room. Tonight it’s fuller than usual — maybe a few handpicked clients invited upstairs. Sami and Cael are locked in a game of pool, the sofas packed, bodies swaying with glasses in hand.

— I need one of you to show me the invoices for drinks… and everything else… so I can log it all into the system.

Neither of them looks at me, their attention fixed on the table.

— Eryon can help you with that. — Sami says.

I nod, already turning toward Eryon, the bartender, when Sami calls my name.

— Come relax for a bit, Lexi. Nobody here cares about invoices.

I let out a sigh. How am I supposed to get anything done like this?

— Just for a little while — he finishes, in that angelic voice I’ve realized he doesn’t always use.

I move closer again and stop at the edge of the table.

— Your voice… — I narrow my eyes at him. — That thing you do… how do you do it?

— I don’t know what you’re talking about — he says, far too casually as he takes a shot.

But I know he’s lying. His natural tone slips out whenever he relaxes.

I glance at Cael, and for the first time, his face isn’t carved in stone. Instead, there’s the faintest ironic curve at his mouth. My heart jolts, even though he isn’t even looking directly at me.

— Yes, you do — I press. — You change your voice when you want to convince me of something.

Now he looks right at me.

— And does it work?

I can’t help but smile, shaking my head.

When I glance back at Cael, his eyes are on me — curiosity flickering like a shadow across his face.

Excitement slides under my skin like a current, sharp enough to make my spine twitch, every hair on my body standing on end.

Suddenly, Sami presses the cue stick into my hands and steps back, leaving a silence thick with tension between us. Does he use the voice trick too?

Then it hits me — I’ve never actually heard Cael’s voice.

— I haven’t heard yours yet — I say, and his eyes measure me. — Do you even speak?

— When I feel like it.

His voice is deep, steady — nothing soft about it — and still, so sensual it blindsides me. My pulse spikes, my breath stumbles.

He scares me, rattles me, yet somehow I find myself wanting to keep him talking. The first thing that slips out is pure instinct.

— Do you use it too? The voice thing… to convince girls?

He sinks a ball with perfect precision without even looking at me.

— You want to know if I do it or if I can?

I smile.

— Both.

God, am I flirting with this man?

— I can. We all can. But it’s not my style.

— Why not?

He steps closer as he lines up his next shot, so near I feel the heat of him invading my space.

— I prefer to persuade in other ways.

I bite my lower lip. Without realizing it, we’re too close. His eyes hold mine, dark and unrelenting, and the music pounding from the club below fades away. All I hear is my heartbeat hammering in my chest, my own ragged breath tangled with the pull that drags heat lower, to where it shouldn’t be.

— Your turn — he says.

But the moment I lean over to take the shot, the air shifts — everything slows.

Cael whips around to face the doors, jaw tight, eyes turning lethal — an assassin’s gaze — seconds before they burst open.

He’s young. Olive skin. Loosely curled hair brushing his jaw. He smiles, but there’s something wrong with it — threat glinting sharp as a blade at a throat.

— Didn’t your mother ever tell you not to play with your food, Caelith?

Cael eases me behind the breadth of his body, slow but firm, while Samiel slides into place at his side.

— How did you get in here, Azrion? — Cael practically spits his name.

The man’s smile only widens — cruel, sarcastic.

— The bouncer was so polite when he invited me in, I couldn’t refuse.

— Everyone out — Samiel shouts, and the others scramble for the door.

I’m slow to move, my feet rooted to the floor. Only when almost everyone’s gone do I manage to step out from behind Cael and head toward the exit.

But before I reach it, a sharp tug on my elbow rips the breath from my chest. My body stumbles, unsteady, until a pair of impossible green eyes lock onto mine.

— You stay, princess.

My stomach knots like I just swallowed ice. Every nerve fires at once, and as our eyes connect, fear spreads fast — threat and magnetism tangled so tightly I can’t break free.

— Your scent is divine, did you know that? — he goes on, his words sliding through my mind like sweet poison.

— What are you doing with my victus, Azrion? — Cael’s voice is low, calm, each step measured as he moves closer.  — Looking for trouble with the Council?

Azrion doesn’t look at him. His gaze stays on me, savoring my fear.

— Funny. I don’t smell you on her. Not you, not your vicarius. If no one’s claimed her, she’s mine now.

My heart slams so hard it feels like my ribs will crack, an icy shiver racing down my spine.

“She’s mine now.” The words echo, screaming at me to run, but I’m caught, shackled by the grip of this stranger.

— Maybe your sense of smell’s gone dull with age. — Sami’s voice has nothing angelic in it now.

I hear the tension in both their voices, but I can’t tear my eyes from Azrion. He releases me slowly, and for a moment I think I’m free. But when I try to step back, his hand clamps around my wrist like an iron cuff.

— I’ll be around, princess. — His whisper scrapes against my ear. — Watching you.

I almost run to the office to grab my bag. I want out. I want to leave this place and never come back.

But before I reach the club doors, Sami catches me.

— I’m sorry, Samiel, but no money is worth getting mixed up with the mafia — I rush out.  — Thanks for the job, but I quit.

He blocks my path.

— If you walk out now, your life will be in danger.