Total pages in book: 140
Estimated words: 140940 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 705(@200wpm)___ 564(@250wpm)___ 470(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 140940 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 705(@200wpm)___ 564(@250wpm)___ 470(@300wpm)
Emily formed her lips into a smile.
“Yet, the most chilling aspect of it all was that modern day guests have claimed that the ghosts of the secret lover and Sam’s brother haunt the hotel’s halls.”
A few of my men stirred in front of me.
The elevator rose.
“Due to the ghost rumors, King David actually checked with Baba on whether he should book this place.” I set my view on the closed doors. “She approved of the inn.”
However, King David’s decision to book this place had nothing to do with its gangster history or elaborate opulence.
Perched atop the inn like a crown, a large landing pad sat with three of my helicopters, awaiting my orders. That offered more than just convenience—it promised a swift escape should the need arise.
Then, there were the secret VIP tunnel exits under the inn. Silver Dollar Sam never wanted anyone to know when he entered or left this place. Therefore, his people created passages for clandestine movements and quick disappearances.
Should potential threats ever darken our doorstep, I could whisk Emily and my boys away either through the hidden corridors or the helipad.
Nothing could happen to my family.
The elevator jerked with a soft, mechanical hum and then stopped at the top floor.
The doors parted slowly, revealing a plush, dimly lit corridor that seemed to extend towards infinity.
With their guns out, my men filed away dutifully like shadowy silhouettes against the soft radiance of chandeliers hanging from the ceiling. Their footsteps echoed along the polished marble floors.
Ignoring them, I murmured softly into Emily’s ear, “I enjoyed your pussy in the car.”
She smirked.
“Once you get your voice back, we will have to try that again.”
Lust pulsed through me. I’d just had that sweet pussy bouncing on my cock less than an hour ago, and still I yearned for more.
I could never get bored of my mouse.
When we got to our suite at the end of the hallway, I let Emily slide down gently onto her feet but kept my arm wrapped protectively around her waist.
I pulled out the old brass skeleton key and opened the door. “If you do not like this suite, let me know. We will move to another in the morning.”
She nodded.
The suite’s door swung open with a soft click, revealing an elegant interior.
Opulence wasn’t a stranger to me, but the grandeur of this three-bedroom suite was a sight to behold. It had lofty ivory-colored ceilings, embellished with detailed swirling moldings. Velvet turquoise sofas and mahogany tables greeted my eyes. The rest of the décor represented artisanal furnishings that ran in deep, seductive red hues, bellowing the vibrant spirit of a jazz club at the peak of the Roaring Twenties.
The expansive windows offered sweeping views of the animated French Quarter below.
All whispered of a lavishness that could captivate even a seasoned traveler like myself.
I walked down a long hallway, losing myself in the charming vintage birdcages and more floor-to-ceiling windows, framed by sumptuous fabrics.
Emily remained in the living room as I headed to the back and did a quick check on the kids.
Paolo and Emilio slept in their rooms with nannies near and guards posted on the outside of their doors.
I grinned with pure joy.
My cubs.
Their childhood would be vastly different from mine.
Many times, I’d shared the bed with Valentina, Pavel, Tisha, and other cousins who had been dropped off due to their parents rushing out in the night to steal. It had been a small, cold room with thin walls that barely kept out the freeze of Siberia—cracked windows, critters crawling, and a mattress on the floor.
Tonight, Paolo lay in a king-sized bed in a room that was a sanctuary of design cloaked in the most exquisite linens.
Art adorned his walls, showing tranquil views of the Mississippi River.
Perfect.
I nodded at my son’s guards, and went into Emily and my lavish bedroom, and assessed our huge bathroom. It was an enclave of marble and gold with a freestanding bathtub for at least five people.
I pictured my mouse and I lounging among bubbles with glasses of fine bourbon.
Perhaps we could stay here for another night. . .just to enjoy ourselves.
I returned to the living room.
Emily hugged herself and stood in the center of the massive space.
I watched her, noting the way her eyes took in the surroundings—the slight tilt of her head as she absorbed the details, the subtle relaxation of her shoulders at the suite’s warmth.
Then, something else caught my attention.
“Hmmm.” I walked deeper into the living room. “This was not here when I came into the suite earlier.”
Emily followed me over.
Against the far wall of the living room, bathed in chandelier light, stood a large canvas on an easel. A huge selection of paints and brushes sat on a nearby table, arranged neatly around the easel in a rainbow of colors, ready to bring the canvas to life.