Chapter 3

Iwake up hot and surrounded by Grady's scent. A silly smile crosses my face as I blink awake.

"Morning, Anni Girl," he says, palming the back of my head. "I just have to say, you still snore worse than a trucker coming off a forty-eight-hour haul."

I snort, running my fingers over the few blond hairs on his chest. "Yeah, well, I still have no idea what that means."

"It means you're absolutely adorable." His thick lips make an exaggerated kissing sound as he pecks my nose.

My insides light up as my instincts hum in approval. My cheeks feel hot, but truthfully, I eat up every bit of praise he gives. There's just something that hits differently when an alpha gives an omega a compliment.

"I think we've got to have a serious talk about Lyra." He sighs heavily, and I already know what's coming. He's never been especially fond of her, but recently, he's grown more critical.

And it's not like I don't get it.

I really do.

I keep waiting for the day one of her visitors accidentally tries to slip into my bed instead of hers.

If I'm in my room, my door is locked.

It's that simple.

The crazy part is, it's technically my apartment. It's my name on the lease. I've offered to add her on, but she's got her own baggage.

I got lucky when I found the guy who made my new identity. It's strong enough to hold up to a cop checking my ID. The forger I bought it from said I can also file taxes legally as Annika Knowles. It's no wonder the endeavor cost the majority of the cash I had from the go-bag.

"She's getting more brazen. I'm pretty sure she tried to fuck me last night." Grady stares down at me with a serious look on his face. He's always so lighthearted that sometimes I can't tell when he's joking or being serious, but that look alone tells me this isn't him being funny. "At the very least, she invited me to hang out while she was naked."

My instincts immediately want me to strangle my roommate.

I've made it clear to her before that Grady is off-limits. I also know she's had a rough go of it recently.

"Are you sure?" I ask, frowning so hard I can feel my forehead wrinkle.

"Well, I'm not just talking shit to try to make you jealous."

"Damn, she had a guy over last night, too, when I got home. I'll talk to her." Maybe threaten to cut her if she does something that ridiculous again. I know she's going through some stuff, and I've tried to be supportive, but flirting with Grady is one thing I won't stand for.

I don't exactly have a lot of friends, but Lyra is one of the few I've let in because I'm pretty sure she can take care of herself.

"I didn't want to upset you, but I'm also not trying to have problems arise because I kept shit to myself." Grady nuzzles his cheek to mine. "You understand what I'm saying?"

"Yeah," I agree. "Thanks for telling me."

"Always, Anni Girl. You know how I feel about you," he whispers. His lips meet mine as he crawls over my body, pushing me into the mattress as he kisses the fuck out of me. His half-hard cock grinds against my core, making me moan as I arch toward him.

My alarm goes off, breaking the moment.

"Fuck me. Is it three already?" he asks, stretching a hand over to grab my phone. "Aww, hell. I'm supposed to be in at four-thirty for a security meeting."

I whimper as he crawls off of me, and his feet hit the floor.

"Sorry, baby. I've got to run home and take a shower before I head to work. It probably wouldn't hurt to change my clothes too."

My arms fall against the mattress as I pout. Using my forearms, I push myself up.

"How about we have quick shower sex before you leave?" My gaze rakes down his lithely muscled form as he smirks.

His chest and torso are covered in dark tattoos that make my nipples tighten. Don't even get me started on the gauges in his ears or hisnipple piercings.

Then there's the fact that he's had twin sparrow tattoos since we met.

At first, it really freaked me out.

I was extremely paranoid that it was some kind of sign he knew who I was, but that quickly faded when I realized sparrows aren't exactly outside the norm with the military Americana tattoo aesthetic.

And I can't lie—it does weird things for me. It very much feels like having my name tattooed on both sides of his neck.

Grady smirks, quirking a bushy eyebrow.

I whine, tossing myself back toward the pillows. He's about to have a full-blown omega tantrum on his hands, which is a bad sign, because my heat is still three weeks away.

"Alright, darlin', shower sex, it is," he growls, prowling closer.

A bright smile crosses my face.

I really like it when he spoils me rotten.

For the second day in a row, Jimmy calls me in early. It might be a good thing because Lyra is passed out cold on the couch when I leave for work. I'm not sure exactly what I'll say when the time comes, but I do feel like I have no choice but to address the Grady thing.

I'd also really like it if she could only have sex in her bedroom and maybe clean up after herself.

It's entirely possible that I'm spoiled from never having shared space growing up. She's my first roommate, so I've tried to be accommodating, and I really do care about her well-being. I think the best thing I can do is address it and move on. Not to make a huge deal about it, but I need to be firm.

It bothers me the entire drive to work. I do my best to put it out of my mind as I pull into the parking garage, park, and make my way to the club.

I head to the back of the building where the VIP entrance is for Spades. That crap with the asshole from last night is still a little too fresh for me to take the alley to the front.

I hit the buzzer by the door and wait for someone to let me in. It takes so long that I start to contemplate walking around to the front. This isn't what I would call VIP service.

Jimmy pops out the door, letting it close behind him.

I frown, trying to figure out if the security cameras caught that little altercation last night.

Am I about to get fired?

That would really suck.

I did my due diligence before settling into the High Roller. Nowhere else treats omegas even half as well.

"We're taking the long way around," Jimmy grumbles, nodding for me to follow as he takes off toward the alley. "Cassian Forbes is in Spades. His guards are fanned out, blocking the entrances. And he's already taken the house for thousands." Jimmy scratches his jaw, walking at a brisk pace. "At this point, it might be better to just call it a loss."

I've heard the name Cassian Forbes before, but I'm unfamiliar with who he might be.

Jimmy isn't usually the type to call anything a loss, especially because of those monthly bonuses he gets based on what Spades brings in. He also gets his ass handed to him when revenue is down.

That leads me to believe Mr. Forbes might be wealthy by way of the illegal variety of business model.

"Are you saying they aren't letting the staff in or out?" I ask, finally thinking through the ramifications of everything he just said.

"No, that would be enough to immediately close up. They aren't letting any other customers in. Supposedly, it's for Cassian's safety, but it's making me itchy, Anni."

"Hmm. Okay, let me drop my things, and I'll see what I can do about getting in there. If I pick up on any of the tells, what am I supposed to do?"

"Fuck if I know," Jimmy mutters, scratching his salt-and-pepper beard. It's one of his few nervous habits, which only makes me more intrigued to see what Mr. Forbes is all about. "Even calling in-house security to remove him might be a problem."

"So, determine if he's fleecing you, but don't intervene?" I ask incredulously as we take the right to head to the main entrance.

"Yeah, that. Do that." He nods, jabbing a chubby finger at my chest.

"What's the point?" I ask with a snort.

"Today is a loss, but if you get proof that he's not on the up-and-up, that gives me a reason to deny him entry in the future."

"Okay." In no way is that standard operating procedure, but it's not my club, and it's not my money. "You got it."

"Thanks, Anni." Jimmy claps me on the shoulder. "Let's get you inside so we can fix this clusterfuck." He slides past the bouncer and heads off, grumbling the entire way about how all three of his kids are going to need braces one day.

I chuckle, shaking my head as I follow him in.

The two main entrances onto the gaming floor are indeed covered by massive men in dark suits with earpieces.

Huh, Mr. Forbes must think he's the president or something.

I've seen high rollers walk in wearing shorts and a polo shirt with a hundred grand in their pockets.

No one messed with them, but this guy thinks it's okay to block paying customers on a Saturday night?

I already dislike him.

My fit-and-flare dress flies out as I spin around to head back to the viewing room. I could easily pull my ID badge from my pocket to prove I'm part of the staff, but it seems important that I spend a while watching this guy before he realizes it.

I take the next right and scan my badge. Once I'm up the stairs, I head into the control room for Spades. It might be a wasted trip, but I want to see with my own eyes what kind of security Mr. Forbes thinks is necessary.

The room isn't packed, but there are three men currently on duty, which is overkill, considering the floor is shut down.

The elastic garter sheaths attached to both thighs dig in when I sit. They're a nuisance and a necessity, all at once. The stainless steel daggers, two on the exterior of each thigh, give me a sense of safety.

I jiggle the mouse, and my nails click against the desk as I wait for the screen to load.

The camera feeds come into view.

It's strange to see the room so empty before we've closed for the night.

I click the keys, zooming in on each of the three security guys fanned around the room. They could pass for Secret Service agents if that guy was actually the president.

The thought makes me chuckle as my thumb taps on the arrow key to slide the camera to the side. I get a solid view of the back of Mr. Forbes's head and shoulder, but even when he flashes his cards, it's too quick for me to pick up.

I add a second and third camera angle to my screen, positioning the next to view over his left shoulder. He picked the table with the worst view. That instantly makes me suspicious.

I huff, pulling up the camera over the dealer and zooming in on Cassian Forbes.

Oh my.

Well, damn.

He's kinda gorgeous.

Cassian has short dark hair that's shaved on the sides and longer on top. The front curly pieces fall over his forehead as he studies the cards on the table. His strong jaw clenches minutely, and I stock that tell away for later. His beard is thick and well-kept, with a trimmed neckline. He yanks his cuff, nodding to the dealer. That suit alone cost a decent chunk of change, not to mention the even pricier watch.

It's all proof of something I already knew.

Rich men do enjoy their lavish spending.