Alistair
I sank into the couch, whiskey glass in hand, letting the burn of the liquor do its thing as I replayed the shitshow that was the Bloody Ball. That’s where I first saw her…Dante called her Crystal. The second I caught sight of her, I was hooked.
I sucked in a breath, the memory of her scent slamming into me like a goddamn train. It was intoxicating, pulling me under and leaving me desperate for another hit.
"Crystal..." I muttered, a twisted smirk tugging at my lips. I remembered how she was chatting with Francesca Dante's goddamn lackeys. She didn’t have a clue I was watching. So, like a moth to a flame, I followed her, waiting like a predator for her to come out of the bathroom. When she did, I yanked her into that room, no hesitation.
Her scent... f**k, it was familiar. It
