Chapter 2

**Sephie**

There''s a steady stream of food heading to the back room all night, and the alcohol''s flowing like water. I''ve already gotten my ass smacked four times in the first hour. All the boss''s oldest sons are here tonight. Lucky fucking me.

Around 9:30, two new bodyguards walk into the restaurant—and I''m talking about the biggest guys I''ve ever laid eyes on. I''m standing at the bar waiting for Max to fill my latest drink order when they stride in. Right behind them, there''s a man I don''t recognize, but the lighting''s too dim for me to get a good look. He steps fully inside, and suddenly I can see his face clear as day.

Tall. Surprisingly young for a crime lord. Dark hair, two-day stubble that has me wondering what it would feel like against my neck. Then he turns and looks straight at me with the most piercing blue eyes I think I''ve ever seen. He catches me staring, and this sly smirk spreads across his face.

"Hey," Max says, stepping up behind me and giving my shoulder a gentle push. "You should escort him back. He might not know where he''s going. I''ll have your drinks ready when you get back."

I suck in a sharp breath, snapping out of my daze, and practically stumble toward the guys at the front door.

"Uh... hi. I''m guessing you''re here for the meeting?"

His intense gaze drops from my face, scanning down my body—brief, discreet—as he reaches down to adjust his shirt cuffs. He looks back up and gives me a single nod.

Okay, man of few words. I can work with that.

"Please, follow me."

Another nod, and all five men fall in behind me. Turns out there were two more bodyguards I couldn''t see until the first pair moved deeper into the restaurant.

Before I open the door to the back room, I turn around. "Can I get you gentlemen anything to drink?"

One of the first bodyguards speaks up. "Yes, water for all of us, please." His Russian accent is thick as molasses.

The answer surprises me, and I cock my head to the side. "Different," slips out before I can stop myself. My cheeks immediately burn as I realize I just said the quiet part out loud.

"I''m so sorry. I didn''t mean any disrespect," I say, staring at the floor as I step aside and open the door.

The first two bodyguards enter, scan the entire room, then nod. The blue-eyed crime lord steps closer to me while his men are doing their security sweep. That sly smirk''s back on his face as he leans in close enough that I catch a whiff of his intoxicating cologne.

"None taken," he whispers, his Russian accent detectable now, before stepping past his bodyguards into the room to a chorus of welcoming greetings.

"What the fuck is wrong with me," I mutter under my breath as I rush back to the bar to get those drinks—and add five more waters to the order.

---

The entire mood in the room shifts after Mr. Crime Lord joins the meeting. Everyone''s tense as hell and dead serious. What happened while I was getting drinks? I do a quick headcount as I deliver each order. Okay, nobody''s dead. That''s always a good sign.

I place a bourbon refill in front of one of the boss''s sons—Anthony, I think. This is Anthony''s eleventh bourbon tonight. Max knows better than to water these down, so Anthony''s getting the good stuff at full strength. Translation: Anthony is drunk off his ass.

The second the glass hits the table, Anthony''s hand flies back and smacks my ass so hard I''m thrown forward onto the table, giving the guys across from him a perfect view down my shirt. I catch myself and push back upright, only to meet those steel blue eyes again. Only this time, he''s not smirking. His jaw''s clenched tight.

I feel my cheeks turn completely red as I mumble an apology and bolt from the room. As soon as the door closes, I rush through the kitchen and out the back door. God, I hate the last Thursday of every month.

I pace back and forth between the dumpster a couple times when I hear the kitchen door open. One of the giant bodyguards comes out first, followed by the new guy. I freeze, not knowing how I''m going to casually walk past him to get back inside.

He turns to his bodyguard, who hands him a cigarette and lighter. He slides the cigarette between his lips with lazy confidence, tilting his head down slightly as he cups his hands around his face to light it. When the flame flickers to life, it illuminates his face, and those blue eyes are focused directly on me. I''m still frozen in place, wondering how I''m going to walk casually past this very powerful man.

*Oh, for fuck''s sake, just do it. You have a job to do, Sephie.*

I take a deep breath and walk toward the back door, keeping my gaze down until I''m almost past them. I glance up and give them the best smile I can manage before reaching for the door handle. Just as my hand''s about to make contact, he reaches out and gently grabs my wrist, making me look at him in confused fear.

He must see the fear in my eyes because he immediately lets go and raises both hands.

"Hey, I''m not gonna hurt you. Just want to ask you some questions," he says. His blue eyes, darker now, are so intense it feels like he''s looking straight into my soul.

"Um, sure. What can I help you with? Did you want to order food? Something stronger than water?"

He lets out a small chuckle, and so does his bodyguard. What''s so funny about me doing my job?

"No, but thank you. You''re very good at your job. I don''t let my men drink when they''re working, and I never touch alcohol."

"Oh... okay. Um, what kind of questions?"

"How well do you know those men in the meeting?"

"Um, I mean, define ''well''? I''m always the waitress who serves them during their meetings. I know the older guys by name since they''re here every time. The younger ones I have trouble remembering because they don''t always show. The sons aren''t always here either... thankfully," I whisper, realizing too late I said it out loud instead of keeping it in my head. "I know them more by their drink and food orders than anything else. I can tell you exactly what they like and don''t like when it comes to food and booze, but in the interest of self-preservation, that''s all the information I''m giving up on those guys."

He smirks and asks, "Are they always that rude to you?"

"The older men? Never. They''re very respectful. Most of the underbosses are too, unless they drink too much. I''m not sure their bodyguards even know how to talk—now that I think about it, I''ve never heard them say a word. The sons, though? What you saw earlier is pretty normal. Especially when they''re all here together. It''s like they''re trying to outdo each other."

He squints slightly as he inhales from his cigarette, holding his breath for a second before turning his head to blow the smoke away from me, his eyes never leaving mine. Why do I feel like I could stare into those eyes for hours and never get tired of it?

"Thank you, uhh... I''m sorry, I didn''t catch your name?"

"Sephie."

"Sephie? That''s unusual."

"It''s short for Persephone. Most people have trouble pronouncing it, so I just shortened it. Plus, people who know the story usually get nervous once they find out I''m named after the Queen of the Underworld," I say, looking down at my fidgeting hands. I actually love my name, but it does come with some weird baggage.

"Thank you, Persephone. You''ve been very insightful. I''m pleased to have met you tonight," he says, extending his hand to me.

I hesitantly place my hand in his. He gently turns it over and brings it up to his lips. When his lips touch the back of my hand, it''s like fireworks explode in my stomach.

I try not to be obvious about the sharp breath I take as he kisses my hand. "Yes, you too... mister?" I look at him questioningly.

"Adrik. You can call me Adrik."