𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐬𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐭 // 𝐧𝐢𝐤𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐢 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐬𝐨𝐯

𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐲-𝐟𝐢𝐯𝐞. 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐤𝐤𝐞𝐫

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

Brekker

    The Crow Club was almost exactly what Estelle expected. A black marble exterior with a hulking crow over the entrance. A bouncer by the door crossed his bulging arms. That seemed like the similar trait in all bouncers.

Without question, he stepped aside to let Nikolai and Estelle through. Nikolai and Estelle exchanged a glance. Estelle followed after him.

Inside the gambling hall, it was dark, smoky, and loud. Crowded with tipsy and drunk people, shouts of victory and protest rang out in unison each time a hand ended. Nikolai walked straight to the bar.

"What can I get for you?" asked the bartender as she cleaned out a glass.

"We're supposed to speak with Per Haskell," he began, his voice low. "Is there any way you could point us in the direction he might be in?"

The bartender glanced around. "Sure. He had to deal with something in the back. He should be there. Last door on the right."

"Thank you, beautiful," Nikolai said with his signature grin. "I'll come get a drink afterwards."

She smiled like a lovesick girl as Nikolai turned and started towards the hallway. Once out of sight, Estelle smacked his shoulder. "Ow! What?"

"'Thank you, beautiful,'" she mocked him in a deeper voice. "'I'll come get a drink afterwards.' This is why I'm still undecided about you being no better than other men."

"How?" he asked, indignant.

"Calling a woman you've never met simply 'beautiful' is objectifying, Nikolai," Estelle explained. "I may not speak for all women, but I know that if a random man called me beautiful, I would wish more than anything to kick him where it truly hurts."

Nikolai blinked, as if caught with a conundrum. "Oh." Then he shook his head and continued walking as if nothing had happened.

Estelle hadn't seen him in a year, and still he confused her. Nikolai was a puzzling man, always with a trick up his sleeve or some angle to play. It was never necessarily a bad angle, but he always had a plan ready whenever something didn't go as planned.

The further away from the common area, the quieter it became. Eerily quiet. Estelle and Nikolai glanced at each other. At the end of the corridor, a closed door to the right.

Nikolai stopped right in front of it. Estelle nodded at him in encouragement. He knocked.

"Come in," came a muffled voice.

He grabbed the doorknob and turned it, pushing the door open.

The room looked like it had once been used as a private gambling room. Now a desk sat in the middle, only one piece of artwork hanging on the wall behind it. A man sat at the desk, papers strewn messily across its wooden surface.