Page 16 of Intense (Beneath The Blaze #3)

FINN

I stay behind in the casino at the front desk while the rest of my department are shown to their rooms.

With a whiskey in hand, I glance around at all the people gambling their money away like it’s nothing.

“Dr. Quinn,” a deep Russian voice booms from behind.

I turn, coming face-to-face with the masked Mikhail. His dark eyes cut straight through me.

I hold out my hand and he shakes it firmly.

“Mr. Volkov. Great to see you again.”

“Same goes to you.”

He hands me a white card.

He’s the King of Vegas, owning nearly all of the casinos and hotels. They’re also part of the same organization as us through Enzo.

We help them get their drugs and arms in—and vice versa.

The Volkov family is a good contact to have in your back pocket.

“Penthouse suite. 20th floor. Stunning views. Stocked bar. If you need anything, call either Jax or Alexei.”

I nod.

Jax, I know well. He helps Conan with his MMA training. Alexei, I’ve only met briefly. He’s fucking hilarious but half mad at this point. Still, he’s loyal to the death for the Volkovs. He reminds me of the twins.

“I don’t expect any issues. We’re just here for an award ceremony.”

As I finish my sentence, I spot her. A flash of silky black hair in the distance, and that’s enough to anchor my gaze.

Her hair is twisted up in a messy bun, those bright red lips, and sinful thighs are poured into tight leather pants.

Fuck.

She might test me to my limit, but I can’t deny she’s stunning.

Mikhail chuckles. “I never know what trouble you Irish might drag with you to Vegas.”

We’ve been dragging him into our messes lately. Though he’s had his fair share of shit to deal with, just to cement his place here. Mafia life never comes cheap.

“Not me, Mikhail. I’m the quiet one.” I smirk.

His eyes crinkle at the corners. The mask is clever. I’ve heard it’s to cover the burns on his face. I think it runs deeper than that. But, unless I can prove myself to him, I doubt I’ll get to see his scars.

Because no one will ever see mine either.

“The quiet ones are the most deadly. I should know, I am one.”

He has a point.

“Drink later? I don’t have any plans until the awards tomorrow,” I say.

He nods, checking his watch.

“Let me speak to my wife and brothers. We can show you how the Russians do it, yeah?”

I laugh.

“Sounds like you’re the one bringing trouble.”

He shrugs.

“We all need a little fun sometimes. And in my home, we can do whatever the fuck we want.”

Once we wrap up talking, I head over to the elevator for the suite.

“Oh, rich boy gets his own elevator too.” Stephanie’s voice makes my body tighten like a bowstring.

“Jealous?” I ask, not turning around.

“Nope. I’m happy it means your room isn’t near mine.”

Oh. That makes me spin on my heel. The sight of her makes my chest tighten. What the fuck? That’s something new.

Those dark winged eyes make her blue eyes pop like a shot to the ribs.

Those red lips. Fuck me.

“And why is that? So you don’t accidentally creep into my room in the middle of the night?”

She rolls her eyes.

I clench my fists by my side. I have to remind myself—do not grab her by the neck.

“No. So you can’t see who and what I’m doing in my room.” She winks and steps back.

“Why would that bother me?” I keep my face expressionless.

But she frowns, like she’s confused.

“So you don’t have anything else to write in your silly notepad?”

I grin at her, stepping closer.

“Oh, is that what you meant? I’ve got eyes everywhere, Dr. Miller. Remember that.”

Right on cue, my elevator dings and I step inside.

When the doors close, she’s already stomped off. I get my notepad out and write the next page.

LOOKED GORGEOUS IN VEGAS.

Bratty as hell.

Still hates my guts. I sensed a hint of jealousy? Or was that me?

It’s not that I hate her. Not even close. I get enjoyment out of being a dick and seeing how far I can push her.

Like an experiment, of sorts. At what point does she throw in the towel and move hospitals?

How far do I have to go for her to slap me?

Why do I hate it when she ignores me?

It’s a lot of unanswered questions that I’m trying to figure out.

Hate is an emotional response. Usually, you have to like someone first to then hate them.

In this case? From day one, I felt her dislike. It seeped out of her pores like venom.

And me, being me, decided I liked that poison.

I wanted more.

I need to see how deep this can run.

I like games. And this one keeps me inspired.

I flip the pad closed.

Maybe I’ll keep writing notes on her in here and wrap it up for Christmas.

But she can never, ever, see my other ones.