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Walking forward, I pushed open the steel doors.
At once, I was assaulted by loud, ear-pounding music. Streaks of light flashed from somewhere in the darkened room. Cigarette smoke and the smell of whiskey choked the enclosed space.
Noah and I walked through the space between crowded roulette tables. In the darkened room, it was difficult to make sense of any direction.
“Hey there!” A tall beautiful woman in a long, slinky red satin gown greeted Noah with a bright smile. “What kind of game are you looking to play with your girlfriend tonight?”
“Where can we find Nick Civella?” Noah replied in a grim tone. “We’re here to see him.”
I pinched Noah’s arm. “I told you not to talk!” I hissed.
He quietly raised his eyebrows at me.
“One moment,” said the woman, tapping at her left ear. Turning away from us, she spoke into her earpiece. The loud music didn’t allow me to hear a single thing she relayed to her boss.
“This way, please,” she said, looking somber. “He’s waiting for you.”
We were led through an area covered in pool tables and through another door. A quieter corridor stretched ahead of us as we followed our pretty hostess.
“Through here,” she said, opening a door on the far side of the hallway.
Taking a deep breath, I walked through a nondescript door and entered a warmly-lit space. My gaze directly went to the aquarium taking up the entire back wall. Brightly colored fish darted away as a long, slender shark lazily swum along the tank.
“Hello, there,” a deep male voice spoke up from somewhere close by.
I’d been so mesmerized by the fish, I didn’t even notice a third presence in the room.
My gaze fell on a well-dressed man sitting cross-legged on a red leather couch. Glittering decanters of liquor adorned the coffee table set before him.
“Mr. Civella?” I enquired.
The man leaned forward, bringing his face out of the shadows.
Civella was a handsome man in his late forties with smooth olive skin and a dark goatee. His midnight-black hair was slicked away from his wide forehead. Dressed in a dark tan suit, he looked like a gorgeous Armani model.
His dark gaze traversed down my body and up again, until they were staring me in the eye.
“You’re prettier in person,” he said, letting his lip curve into a leering grin.
I smiled to cover up the discomfort that washed over me.
“Thanks,” I said. “I’m Azalea and this is my associate, Noah Amhurst.”
He pointed at the red-leathered couches set before him and gestured for us to sit.
Wordlessly, Noah and I took our seats.
“Whiskey?” Civella asked.
“Sure,” I said at once.
Leaning across the table, Civella poured the drinks in two glass tumblers.
Noah glanced at me, the question clear in his eyes.Are you sure we should be drinking what he’s offering us?
I blinked slowly, telling him it was okay.
I picked up my glass and took a sip.
