Page 152 of Heartless Sinner

Philip held my gaze for another second before giving me a clipped nod.

“Good.” I started walking again.

He kept his comments to himself after that. I knew he wouldn’t take me up on the go have a drink offer. The stubborn bastard would plant himself outside the door and wait until I was ready to leave.

The quiet of the hallway disappeared the second we entered the VIP section. Music slammed into me.

Below us, a sea of bodies moved under the flashing strobe lights. People crowded the dance floor and wrapped around the bar, waving cash and drinks in the air. The bass pounded through the floor and straight into my fucking skull.

People do this shit for fun?

I preferred places I could sit, drink bourbon, and hear myself fucking think.

Daphne bumped her shoulder against mine as she leaned closer. “I heard this place is nicknamed Roofie Club.”

I barely caught her words over the music.

I leaned down, bringing my mouth closer to her ear. “Which is why you don’t take a drink from anyone but me.”

She bumped me again. “Why?”

I stopped in my tracks.

Philip and Stan did the same.

I ignored both of them and waited for Daphne to tell me she was fucking joking. “So you don’t get roofied, obviously.” I kept my voice low enough that Stan couldn’t hear me.

Daphne pulled her hand from mine. “What if you taste-test it first? Make sure it’s not roofied, and then I can drink it?”

I scrubbed a hand down my face. “Daph, that’s the dumbest shit I’ve ever heard.”

Her lips crept into a small smile. “I want to make sure my Son cares about me enough to take a roofie for me.”

“I’d take a fucking bullet for you.”

The answer came out before I even thought about it.

Her smile disappeared for half a second.

Then she reached for my hand again.

I looked down as her fingers slipped between mine. Her smile returned, bigger this time.

I squeezed her hand. “Don’t take a drink from anyone but me. Do I make myself clear?”

She chewed on that plump lower lip of hers. “But what if the guy is cute?”

“You take a drink from anyone, and I’ll shove a handful of roofies down his throat until he foams at the mouth and dies.”

Her eyes formed small slits as she glared at me.

“After I do that, I’ll make you drink the foam for making me waste my time killing him,” I went on.

She rolled her eyes. “You making people foam at the mouth must be your kink.”

“And while we’re going over the rules—” I tightened my grip on her hand and started walking again—“You don’t leave my side either.”

“Considering only douchebags hang out here, I’m okay with that rule.” She cocked her head. “I guess that explains your attendance.”