The Sinner and the Scholar by Lana Pecherczyk EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Author: Lana Pecherczyk
- Genre: Gothic Romances
- Publish Date: May 2, 2023
- Size: 14 MB
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Status: Avail for Download
- Price: Free
Thea
A cross the street from a nightclub called Purgatory, I check my cell
phone and confirm my location. Yes. Right place, right time, but the
wrong outfit.
I glance down at my black dress. The neckline is too high, and the hem is
too long. It’s almost midnight, and the club is pumping. I unclip my dagger
from my thigh holster and use it to shear off a good two feet of fabric. Then I
slice down from the center of the neckline, freeing my breasts from captivity.
Well, almost. A lace bra stops me from completely exposing the world.
Once satisfied with my alterations, I sheath my weapon and fluff up my
hair. Lastly, I poke the silver crucifix on a necklace deep into my bra.
Business time.
Walking like I live in stilettos, I strut across the street, tossing my long
dark hair and swaying my hips.
As predicted, the bouncers are too busy checking out my goods to bother
with ID or, I don’t know, the fact that I just cut the line. The trick is to look
like you’re expected and unhappy about being late.
Once inside, I hold that persona and move down a rabbit hole with
thumping music vibrating the walls. Cigar smoke keeps what happens inside
the seedy club hidden. I crest the foyer and take a moment to gather my
bearings.
High-class women in skimpy clothing tend a bar to the right. A sunken
dance floor is perfect for lusty voyeurism from wealthy businessmen
sprawled in booths around it. I have no doubt the women dancing between
lascivious men are hookers or wannabe sugar babies. I continue hunting until
I find what I need—the man with the fattest ego, copious women on his arms,
and men groveling at his feet. He’s bald, wears a gold chain, and sits on a
throne with a vantage point of the entrance.
He’s not my guy. He’s just in my way.
With my eyes on the prize, I stalk toward him, chin high and shoulders
straight. As I pass the bar, a handsome man widens his eyes and opens his
mouth. He takes a step toward me.
“No.” I hold my right hand near his face and keep walking.
He shuts his mouth and slinks back to the bar. I don’t have time to play
tonight. Besides, ignoring every other man making eyes at me right now is
part of the plan. Never once removing my gaze from the target, I walk across
the dance floor. Perhaps it’s my confident carriage, devilish outfit, or Godgiven good looks, but dancers part like the red sea. When I hit the opposite
end of the floor, I feel my target’s eyes groping me.
I climb the steps and stop at his table.
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