Page 69 of Ruin My Life

But he’s a Songbird. And that’s enough.

I need a new lead—preferably one that’ll take me far away from Kings.

After checking my coat at the front, I walk into the lounge like I belong here.

It’s a cathedral of excess. The deep purple colour scheme lands somewhere between regal and tacky, with gold accents and crystal glassware in every hand. The bar glows underpendant lights like a stage, but the rest of the room is dipped in shadow—faces melting into a blur.

Perfect. A mask for monsters.

I order a glass of white wine and start to scan the crowd.

I’m looking for one indistinct white man among a sea of indistinct white men. I also have no idea who else might be here with him from the gang.

My eyes travel across the lounge, brushing over every half-lit face until I spot Landen in a booth with two others, sipping whiskey that’s far too expensive for the likes of them. That tells me what I need to know—they’ve got friends here. Connections.

That makes this trickier.

Still, it won’t stop me from trying.

I tighten my grip on the wineglass and move toward them, heels silent against the plush carpet—until a thick, meaty body blocks my path.

A man in a black suit barrels out in front of me like a goddamn truck, knocking the glass from my hand. It shatters at my feet, white wine bleeding into the rug.

Heads turn. Eyes flick toward us.

“Ah, sorry about that,” he says, tone flat and disinterested.

He’s not sorry. Not even close.

His hair is platinum blonde, buzzed short. His eyes are a milky shade of grey-blue—almost white. There’s something off about them. Something…inhuman.

“It’s fine,” I say tightly, crouching to pick up a large shard of glass.

He kneels beside me. “Let me get that for you,” he says, plucking the shard from my hand. “Wouldn’t want those delicate fingers all cut up. Not good in your line of work.”

I freeze for a beat before rising slowly.

What does he think Ido, exactly?

I school my expression and mutter, “Thanks. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m here to meet someone.”

As I step around him, his hand snaps out and grabs my arm. Hard.

His fingertips dig into my skin, cold and possessive.

“No,” he says, his voice low and venomous as his lips brush my ear. “I don’t think you’re going to make that meeting tonight. Not until the boss gets what she asked for.”

My mouth opens, but the words stall.

The boss.

My blood goes cold.

“I… don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He grins wide, eyes crawling over me. “Come now,Rose. You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

The name hits like a slap.