Prince Of Greed (Princes Of Sin: The Seven Deadly Sins Series Book 2)

Why is she here?

How is she here?

Unlike our run-in at the coffee shop, I didn’t plan for this to happen. I’d had half a bottle of whiskey with Orobas in one of the VIP lounges upstairs while humans fawned at our feet. I’d come down to the main floor to get some space from the crowd that had been forming around my brother’s influence.

The entirety of the evening I had been picturing Evie’s face. Maybe I was hallucinating the drunken mirage of my obsession standing in Sitri’s club.

But when she looked around, also questioning the validity of my presence, I knew she was real. She walked with determination to stand in front of me, close enough that I could reach out and touch her—or pin her to the wall next to us and have her gasping.

“What are you doing here?” she said over my imagination and the too-loud music.

I’d complained to Sitri countless times that the music was obnoxious, and for a demon to make a proper deal, their terms needed to be heard and agreed to, but now more than ever, I wanted the volume lowered. His solution was the addition upstairs, but I cursed him further in this moment.

“I could ask you the same question.” All wit and humor had left me with the surprise of her presence in a demon-owned nightclub.

She grabbed my wrist and pulled me into the less exposed corner near the bathroom doors. I glanced several inches to our right to the hardly visible crease in the wall indicating one of the hidden rooms within The Deacon. Maybe it was empty.

“Stolas?”

Her cheeks and chest were flushed with a sheen of sweat over her sun-kissed skin. For being unsure of her energy level earlier today, she was holding up like any other twenty-something here.

She raised her brow in her impatience for my explanation.

“A couple of my brothers own this club. Orobas and I are investors and were invited for the reopening.”

“Investors?”

“That’s right,” I answered, my shoulders relaxed. “And having deep and pliable pockets earned me a VIP booth. Care to join me?”

It was a bold move. Not as subtle as my last attempt to put myself in her path, but when the prey is within the predator’s reach, they become a meal.

She looked over my shoulder, and I followed her line of sight to whom I assumed was one of the friends she arrived with.

“Your entire group is welcome,” I insisted, refocusing on her face and bringing her attention back to me.

She wrapped her arms around herself and shifted her weight from one hip to the other as she considered my offer.

“Evie, it’s okay to decline. I won’t be offended.”

Her arms loosened, but not fully. The offer was still present between us.

“Where is the booth? Maybe I’ll stop by later.”

I smiled, unsure if she was brushing me off or truly torn between her evening plans and the alternative I’d created.

“Upstairs. You won’t be able to get in without being accompanied by a VIP.”

“Oh.”

I wanted her to come with me, but not up to the booth. I wanted her alone. Like when we had stolen a few minutes at her father’s party. I didn’t want to take her upstairs to Orobas, who would croon and smirk in our direction between shots of liquor from a human’s belly button.

She touched the bare spot at her neck, absent of the necklace I had plucked from her at the coffee shop. Haniel had quick hands, but it would be another day or so before it would be ready.

“Who’s this?” A voice behind me broke the tension between us.

“This is—” Evie began, but I quickly cut her off, unwilling to share my name with this new human.

“I’m a friend of Evie’s father. I was just saying hello,” I explained, then I turned back to Evie. “I’ll be seeing you soon.”

With that, I dipped my chin to both of them and headed back upstairs. I refused to look back and hoped to be able to find her in the crowd through the two-way windows in the floor of my booth. The first thing I saw upon reaching said booth was Orobas seated with a human straddling his lap. His face was buried in the chest of the young woman whose ass bounced on top of him.

I sat down, my knees wide to give me a better view between my feet.

The lights flashed and the tops of heads pushed and pulled with the tide of the music. It would be useless attempting to find Evie among the hundreds of bodies writhing together.

The thought of anyone touching her but me irked my nerves.

“What’s the matter with you?” Orobas said, coming up for air.

“Nothing.”

“That’s convincing,” he slurred then took a shot. “You have a scowl on your face that could scare the paint off a bus.” He held up another for me to take.

I eyed his hand but took his offering. “You might want to slow down. It’s not even midnight and you’ve lost your senses.”

The woman who had just been playing the part of Orobas’ drinking vessel giggled and sat up from the low table. She fixed her skirt then sat down to admire the both of us.

He wrinkled his nose, disgusted by my accusation. “And besmirch my title? Brother, some of us cannot rely on our attitudes to spread our gifts to the masses. I am excess. All revelry and misguided fun must be inspired by my hand.” His arms flung out. “I am all of this.”

“Calm down, brother.”

Orobas spun around. It had been Ezequiel calling for Orobas to quit his showboating. Under his arm was a tall blonde woman who was likely a model or actress.

“Hope you don’t mind if we join you,” he stated.

“It depends. Did you bring anything for the rest of us?” Orobas’ eyes roved over the creature Ezequiel was pulling onto his lap.

“Oro,” Sitri warned as he came through the crowd. “You’ll behave around our guests.” He ushered in more people. The last person stole my breath.

“Evie!” Orobas’ voice boomed.

Her eyes shot from Orobas to me. My throat dried to the point that words lodged themselves behind my tongue.

Sitri wrapped his arm around Evie’s shoulders and brought her to his side—a prize he would be showing off for the night.

“You didn’t say you knew my brother?” Sitri said into her temple.

“I didn’t know Oro and Stolas were your brothers,” she answered, her voice small and shaky.

“A lovely surprise all around, it would seem,” Ezequiel commented next to me, his eyes fixed on me. That disturbing, amused smile of his was on full display. He loved catching Fallen in uncomfortable circumstances.

“Wait, Evie. Isn’t this the guy you were talking to downstairs?” one of Evie’s friends remarked as they scooted into the booth.

“I say that calls for a toast.” Orobas lifted his hand and struck his fingers together to alert the waitress.

“This has just turned into a much more interesting night than I had foreseen,” Sitri mused.

The oversized booth easily sat the newcomers in addition to the woman Orobas had been entertaining, though she was more interested in her drink now that Orobas had set his eyes on someone else.

Sitri looked down at Evie then met my eye, and a devilish smile crept up his cheeks when the pieces started to fall into place for him. Ezequiel hadn’t been at the table in Vegas when I’d won Evie from Orobas, but with the way he passed glances from me to Sitri then to Evie, he had realized there was a connection.

A waitress came over with a tray of champagne and set it down at the table. Orobas grabbed up two glasses at a time and handed them out, his fingers brushing over each human. I shot him a look when he sat down next to me. His influence over these humans was more for his own ego than to lighten the mood. And, as if on cue, two of them downed their drinks then reached for another.

“Tiffany. Jordan. Stop, we said only three drinks,” the one sitting nearest Evie shouted, but it was too late.

A second glass had been drained, then a third.

Whatever pact they had made was thread thin against the power of the Prince of Gluttony. Orobas smiled into his flute at the bickering.

“Rhomi, lighten up. It’s just a little bubbly,” the blonde said before laying her head on the Watcher’s chest. Her hand trailed up his neck, bringing rouge to her cheeks.

“Well, you didn’t have to leave your dance partner downstairs.” Rhomi huffed and crossed her arms like a child.

“I’ll dance with you, darling,” Orobas offered with a flit of his outstretched hand.

Rhomi stood and pulled Tiffany and Jordan to their feet to follow Orobas to the smaller dance floor next to the bar. Ezequiel watched for only a moment before following the sure thing that had been pawing at him.

Sitri wound his finger around a loose lock of Evie’s hair. “I should check on the manager. They’re new and rather clumsy.”

Evie’s eyes followed Sitri as he stood and took several steps from us before snapping back to me. She didn’t move closer, didn’t give away a single thought.

Pinned to the cushion by her stare, I waited for an accusation or for her to start to piece together how staged our meetings had been.

“Are you here with anyone?” she asked, her tone flat.

“Just my brothers.” I crossed my ankle over my knee and sipped at my whiskey, hoping for any semblance of calm.

“Why?”

“Excuse me?”

“You’re handsome, rich, connected, and seem to be everywhere. Why are you here alone?” She seemed to be examining me as if I were an anomaly to be dissected.

“You didn’t come with anyone,” I tossed back casually.

“But I ran into your brother.”

“Are you saying you came here with the intention of hooking up and have succeeded?”

“No, I—that’s not what I said.”

“Because perhaps I had the same intention but am not as charming or approachable.” I cocked my head and smiled, watching the ice in her posture melt away.

“I doubt that.” Her lips tightened, restricting the smile she wanted to return.

She looked around the lounge. The luxury of the VIP booths had spared no expense, and she was meant to be surrounded by lavishness. To be doted upon and never have to ask for anything. Her father had always provided for her, but somehow she had retained an innocence that didn’t often come with being raised in the public eye.

I’d been staring too long when her eyes caught on mine then pulled away.

She recoiled with surprise and a small bit of fear when she finally discovered the see-through floor beneath us. “Is that safe?”

“Entirely.” I stood and crossed over the pane of glass to demonstrate.

“Can they see us?” Her eyes were fixated on my feet and the party below.

“No.” I sat down next to her. “No one can see us.”

The weight of my body on the cushion pulled her closer, but she didn’t reposition herself. Her eyes had marked my movements then settled where our hips touched before trailing up to my face.

“You look beautiful tonight,” I said, settling my arm across the back of the booth behind her. “It’s a shame they can’t see you. Or maybe it is my great fortune that only I can.”

“Is that your attempt at hitting on me?” she quipped. The smirk she’d been holding back surfaced with a giggle that sent my heart racing.

“Not at all.” I scoffed and moved in closer.

Her eyes fell to my lips.

“I don’t need childish pickup lines or cheesy compliments to show someone I’m interested.”

“Is that why you’re here alone?” Her cheeks flushed at her own derisiveness.

“I was here alone because no one interested me. Until I went downstairs.”

Her lips parted and closed. The quick or witty comeback was lost to the electricity flowing between us. The slow build to a thunderstorm weighed down my chest, making my lungs feel heavy.

I laid my hand on her knee and drew in closer.

“Is this okay?” I asked, catching the notes of rose from her perfume and the musk of the sweat that had dried on her skin.

She nodded slowly, intent on retaining eye contact.

My fingers brushed at the smooth skin of her inner thigh, and I felt the slight tremble of the muscle there.

I made her nervous. I could see it in her eyes and in the way she held her breath.

My palm heated over her skin, and my fingers reached the hem of her dress. I pushed the soft fabric up by only an inch then stalled to give her a moment to push me away or give me any indication that I was pushing her toward a limit.

Her lashes dropped, and her lips parted.

I leaned in, bringing my fingers to her jaw to draw her closer. My neck heated under my collar. I wanted to devour her whole. I wanted to have her gasping my name as if it were the last oxygen she’d ever breathe. Every sense she had would be ensnared by my essence. No craving would be sated or thirst quenched if it wasn’t provided by my hands.

As quickly as I could imagine the taste of her lips on my tongue, a voice tore through the thick tension.

“Evie!”

Rhomi. Her words and hands ripped Evie away from me and dragged her up to her feet.

“We have to go. This asshole just tried to shove his hand up my dress in front of everyone,” Rhomi shrieked loud enough that several other groups turned around to see the commotion.

Evie looked down at me, an apology on her face.

A rush of anger bloomed in my chest as I searched the dance floor. Orobas was drunkenly stumbling toward us with no trace of remorse for interrupting what would have been a pivotal moment. He blasted an insult to Rhomi then gestured for her to fellate him.

“I—” Evie stole one last glance at me before Rhomi pulled her toward Jordan and Tiffany, who were waiting for them at the top of the stairs.

Orobas sank into the booth across from me, exasperated by the scorn he’d just received. “Prudish bitch. She would have been lucky to have had me for a night.”

“In your state, you wouldn’t have stayed conscious long enough for your clothes to come off,” I scolded, but he shrugged it off coolly. “You owe me for that interruption.”

“You should be thanking me. I’d bet good money that she will be pounding on your door within the day to finish what was started.”

“Ten thousand,” I said through gritted teeth. I was furious and petty.

“Twenty. If she finds you in the next”—he glanced down at his watch then back up to me with a sloppy grin—“twelve hours, you owe me twenty thousand dollars and that pretty new sports car you won off Sitri in Vegas.”

“You don’t even drive.”

“No. But you do.” His malicious grin sent a sparkle to his glassy eyes.

I huffed. “You really are the worst of us.”

“Tell Seere that fact when you see him, won’t you? He likes to believe he is the baddest of the bad.”

I rolled my eyes and lost myself and the rest of the night in the bottom of a whiskey glass.