Our gazes clashed, and something shifted behind her eyes, her breathing coming quicker. She truly was a beautiful thing.
I noticed her lip trembling. She knew something wasn’t right in the bar.
My chest tightened at her beauty, at the innocent look that masked something darker. For all I knew, she was concealing a knife under that dress to survive in such a town. By the look of things, she wasn’t well cared for. She appeared beaten down, too fragile to harm. And that made me toy with the idea of finding out exactly how much darkness she lived with.
I’d fucked plenty of women, but none had called to me like her. None had my wolf growling in my chest.
“What do you want, Syn?” Anton barked. “Ain’t you got work to do?”
Her cheeks blushed, and she hastily lowered her lashes. She spun on her heels and rushed out the back door.
Syn…I couldn’t help but grin at the irony of her name.
When I looked at Anton, he watched me with a narrowing stare.
“We can make a deal,” he stated with a nervous voice, then quickly licked his lips. “I see the way you stare at Syn. She’s yours along with the payment, and we’re even for last quarter’s dues.”
“Father,” Brayden groaned, and I’d almost forgotten he was under my heel. Like I said, I doubted many would miss him if he died. “You can’t!”
I had no idea what the girl meant to Brayden, but from his reaction, she must mean something, and that in itself sweetened the deal.
"You want to die, son?" Anton barked, then straightened his posture, looking me in the eyes. “What do you say? Deal?” His breathing quickened. This man was a conniving opportunist.
Temptation pounded in my chest cavity, my thoughts drowning in images of such a pretty thing being mine. My brothers would be pissed, of course they would, but when did I care about their reaction?
I lifted my attention back to the rear doorway. She was a complication I hadn’t anticipated.
“Deal?” Anton persisted, and his voice raked on my nerves.
“I’ll think about it,” I snapped. “Now, deliver your payment.”
He flinched back, nodded, and made a hasty retreat through the back exit too.
An excited sensation curled in my gut at the notion of playing with Syn. At pushing her…
“She’s not yours to take,” Brayden groaned. “Emersyn is mine.”
My wolf snapped, the sound grazing across my throat.
I lifted my boot and shoved my heel onto his broken hand, pressing down, to which he cried out.
“We’ll see about that.”