Morozov

Chapter 32

We were driving home when a call from Ace reached Jack.
He picked it up. "Yeah?"

"You need to go to New Jersey right now," the twin urged. "Vera was seen there. I'll tell you when I see you," he explained.

"Purple Sky Bar?" Jack asked and an answering "Mhm" from Ace was the only answer we got before the line was cut.

Jack made a turn and sped off toward our new destination.
When we arrived at an old, abandoned-looking house, I didn't ask any questions but was rather relieved to finally be able to take a shower and change my clothes.

"Take a shower and put on something fancy. It should be practical, though," Jack instructed, handing me my bag. I did as he instructed, taking a shower and getting ready.

I knew we were going to some bar and I also knew that it probably had a dress code. Since we needed to stay undercover and not attract any attention, I only did my normal make up with a bit of a smoky eye look.

I didn't pack any particularly fancy clothes because I didn't think we'd go to a fucking bar in New Jersey but I did pack a pair of black jeans and a backless long sleeve.

I put my hair up in a sleek ponytail to keep it out of my face. Then my boots and black trench coat I forgot I even packed.

Always have something to cover up your weapons.

Once I was done, I made my way back downstairs to where Jack was waiting, wearing an all black suit.
His head drifted over to me when he heard the sound of my boots on the stairs.

Icy eyes traveled along my body and lingered at my hips and then chest. He got up when I reached the end of the staircase.
Moving gracefully like a fucking god, he stopped when he reached me.

His hand immediately found my hips and slid up under the coat. He cocked a brow. "That top is really revealing, little traitor."

"Got a problem with other men looking at me, Jack?" I challenged, making him eye me for a second before he let go and stepped back.

He reached for his gun, held it up with raised brows and then handed it to me. I rolled my eyes but took it anyways. As if we'd need a fucking gun in a bar full of people. Vera probably won't even be there anymore.

"Couldn't give less of a fuck," he answered my question, then pivoted. "Now let's go."

He parked the car in front of a bar right in the middle of New Jersey.

The Purple Sky Bar was written in a glowing, purple font atop the opened doors. Loud music was booming in there and the smell of weed was unmistakable.

I furrowed my brows. "That's not ours," I said. Jack didn't look at me but put his arm around my waist, pulling me tighter to himself.
"I know," he answered, training his eyes forward.

"Who are we seeing? Because I'm sure Vera wasn't in here?" I asked as we reached the entrance, where two bouncers stopped us.

"Open your bag please," one of them ordered, gesturing to my bag. Thank God there was nothing in it that he didn't like and we were let in.

We walked straight for the bar, where a guy was sitting at, having a drink. Jack sat down next to him and I did too.

The man turned his head to look at us. Darkness circled his sunken eyes and the wrinkly skin on his cheeks looked like he'd recently lost a lot of weight.

He pushed a piece of paper over to us before turning back to his glass. My brows furrowed. What a weirdo.

Jack covered it with his hand and slid it over to us before he opened it.