Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 85183 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 426(@200wpm)___ 341(@250wpm)___ 284(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85183 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 426(@200wpm)___ 341(@250wpm)___ 284(@300wpm)
I lean forward and grab his face, pressing my lips to his. His strong fingers wind into my hair, holding me to him.
"I can do this." I breathe against his lips. "Please, let me do this."
"Tor..."
"He doesn't know who I am, just a girl who looks a little too classy to be in a brothel. He can have whores whenever he wants. This is our best chance, and you know it." I press on. Honestly, if he lets me do this, it will be a miracle.
He rests his elbows on his knees, folding his hands and cupping his face in his palms as he stares down at the floor. "If I let you do this, you will follow my instructions to a fucking T. Do you hear me?"
I nod, a small smile pulling at my lips.
The car idles at the curb. I glance at the front of the bar that looks exactly that, a bar, not the seedy brothel that it really is.
"Marney will be parked on the corner. He's gonna watch you when you come out, and I'll be waiting in the hotel room. You take too long, and I'm doing this my way." Jude drags his hands down his face. His movements are anxious and agitated as he opens the centre console and grabs a gun, handing it to me. "Put this in your fucking purse. If he looks at you the wrong damn way just fucking shoot him." He cocks an eyebrow at me. "I'm not kidding, Tor."
I roll my eyes. "Jude, we have been backwards and forwards over this. If I think I'm in danger, I'll get out."
He sighs heavily, the muscles in his shoulders rigid tense. He grabs my face roughly and slams his lips over mine. "I have a right mind not to let you do this. I swear to fucking God if anything happens to you..."
"You worry too much," I smirk and press a quick kiss to his lips, before shoving the car door open and hopping out. I can practically feel Jude's eyes burning a hole in my back as I make my way to the front of the bar.
I approach the door cautiously. The bouncer holds his hand out for my ID whilst his eyes slowly drag over my body; it's a move meant to make me feel uncomfortable. It doesn't. I cock an eyebrow at him, as I place the fake driver's license in his palm, being careful not to touch him. He glances down at it briefly and hands it back, a smirk on his face. As soon as he steps aside, I move past him.
I become who I need to be to get the job done. My hips sway just a little more as I move into the busy bar. Jude said the guy I'm looking for will have eyes on the bar, that he will see me, even if I don't see him. All I need to do is get noticed. To get noticed, I need to own him without even laying eyes on him. Easier said than done.
I move toward the bar and place my bag on it. I order a glass of wine and take a seat on one of the stools, watching. The place is an average upmarket bar. The walls are a gunmetal grey, with chandeliers hanging from the ceilings and big silver mirrors on the walls. Behind the bar is a wall of bottles, all uplit from underneath. It's modern, but caters to the average Joe. Dance music pulses through the speakers, making the place too loud for civil conversation.
This may look like a normal club. But I know it's just a front for the brothel in the back. A lot of the men who come here, come for a reason, a clear purpose in mind. In my periphery, I notice a guy watching me, eyeing the length of my exposed legs. I wait, ignoring him. Eventually he approaches me, a cocky smile on his face.
"Hey, beautiful."
I swing my gaze to him and cock an eyebrow wordlessly. His smile slips slightly, but he isn't deterred. He leans into me so that he can be heard over the music. "How much?" He asks.
Bingo. Just like Jude said.
I smirk. "Sorry, sweetheart. I'm waiting for someone." I add a slight twang to my accent, probably sounding more Australian than anything, but as long as I don't sound blatantly British... There aren't too many British girls wandering around here, and I don't want to draw unwanted attention.
"Oh, um... I... sorry," he stumbles. He trails off and slips away from me, merging back into the crowd.
I wait. Another half hour passes. I drink my wine slowly and order another, simply to avoid looking strange. I barely touch it.
I'm starting to think he's not here when I spot him across the room talking to a woman in a skirt so short it barely covers her arse. Julio Mussa is an attractive man, probably in his forties. He's massive, easily as tall as Jude, but where Jude is lean, honed muscle, this guy is just bulk. He appears the image of civilised charm, but I know better. I watch him for a few minutes, and then direct my attention elsewhere. When I look up again, his eyes are fixed on me, curiosity evident on his face. I hold his gaze for three seconds, a small smirk pulling at my lips, and then I glance away, sipping from my wine glass absentmindedly. A few seconds later and a large figure leans against the bar next to me.