BRISELLE’S POV.
The air in The Gilded Rose was thick with the scent of expensive bourbon and even more expensive perfume. My skin still prickled where Kai’s lips had grazed my temple. It felt like a mark, a literal brand that told everyone in the room I was off-limits. Or rather, that I was his.
He didn't let go of my waist as we were led to a secluded booth in the back. The leather was soft, the lighting so low it was practically criminal, and the two men in suits—the observers were seated just far enough away to look casual, but close enough to see if I flinched.
Kai slid into the booth, and instead of sitting across from me, he sat right next to me, trapping me against the wall.
"Comfortable, babe?" he asked, his voice a low, mocking velvet.
"I’m vibrating with joy," I muttered, st
