Sweet Revenge With My Billionaire Vampire

Adeline’s brows furrowed as she glared at him, folding her arms. "What the hell is so funny?"

Enzo kept laughing, leaning against the wall behind him for support. When his laughter finally started to die down, he flicked a finger under his eye, wiping away a tear that wasn’t even there in the first place. He took a deep breath, shaking his head in amusement.

"Did you forget that I was the one who started this whole ’expose your uncle’ thing?" he asked. "So why on earth wouldn’t I want to go?"

Adeline raised a finger, her lips parting to reply, but before she could, he leaned down to her height, resting one hand on his knee while reaching out with the other. He grabbed her left cheek between his fingers and gave it a tug.

She winced, her left eye snapping shut as he stretched her cheek like she was some kid. "Hey—!"

"That aside," he added, "do you really think I’d let you go to Vegas all by yourself? To track down some random herbalist? While your uncles are literally hunting you down? For fuck’s sake, Adeline."

She gritted her teeth, grabbing his wrist and yanking his hand off her face. She rubbed her cheek, muttering a few curses under her breath before looking up at him. "So does that mean we’re going to Vegas?"

Enzo’s hand moved up, patting the top of her head. "If that’s what you want, then to Vegas we shall go, my little bumblebee."

Adeline’s eyelids fell into a deadpan stare, a bored, unamused expression crossing her face as she smacked his hand away. "Don’t call me that."

She turned and resumed walking.

Grinning, Enzo shoved his hands into his pockets and followed after her. Then, just to mess with her, he nudged her shoulder playfully, causing her to stumble slightly to the side. "Don’t call you what? Bumblebee? I think it’s an adorable nickname for you."

She caught herself and shot him a glare, but didn’t say anything.

As they both pushed the door open, they were met with the sight of the two security guards standing near the entrance. Both men stared at them, confusion written all over their faces. They didn’t recognize them. In fact, they didn’t even remember letting them in.

One of the guards, a tall and broad man with a thick mustache, stepped forward, towering over Adeline, who stood slightly ahead of Enzo. "How did you two get in here?" he demanded, his voice gruff with suspicion.

Enzo firmly grasped her wrist and gently pulled her back, positioning her safely behind him.He then stepped forward, bringing himself to the same imposing height as the security guard. "We’re friends of Elijah. When we got here, neither of you were at your post. Very unprofessional, don’t you think?"

His voice dropped slightly, laced with just enough authority to make them sweat. "I could always mention that to Elijah, and have you both fired."

From behind him, Adeline poked her head out, her blue eyes narrowing as she pointed a finger at the guards. "Yeah," she chimed in. "One phone call is all it takes, and you’re done for."

The two security guards exchanged wary glances. The one with the mustache was clearly skeptical, but the other, a shorter man with a scar over his brow, seemed to hesitate.

After a moment, the Mustache Guard gave a short, reluctant bow of his head. "We apologize. There was a fight, and we had to step away to break it up."

Adeline raised her chin, letting out an exaggerated ’hmph’ as if deeply offended by their negligence. Grabbing Enzo’s hand, she turned on her heel. "Let’s go, darling." She strode off, tugging him along.

"Darling?" Enzo asked, chuckling as he followed her.

She halted in her tracks, releasing his hand and pivoting to face him. "I was just playing along back there."

He smirked, taking a slow step toward her. "Playing along, hm?" A glimmer of playful amusement shone through in his gaze as he spoke, his voice carrying a hint of teasing. "Because the way you said that, it didn’t sound like you were just—"

But Adeline wasn’t listening anymore. Her focus drifted past his shoulder, her eyes locking onto the bartender behind the counter who was pouring drinks for a few customers. Suddenly, she wanted a drink.

"Don’t you think?" Enzo’s voice pulled her back.

She blinked, snapping out of her thoughts. "Don’t I think what?"

Enzo’s expression immediately went deadpan. He sighed, dragging a hand down his face. "Unbelievable. I just yapped for a whole damn minute, and you didn’t hear a word I said, did you?"

Adeline graced him with a sweet smile, her hand extending to gently rest on his arm before giving it a light pat.

"How about we grab a glass or two?" she suggested. "We’re finally making a little bit of progress with our plan, so I think that’s worth celebrating, at least."

"By ’a glass or two,’ do you mean a fruit punch? Juice, maybe?" he asked, cocking an eyebrow.

Her smile dropped, replaced by a flat glare. She shoved a hand against his chest, making him stumble back slightly. "What the hell do you take me for? I meant alcohol. I literally drank whiskey in front of you earlier."

"Ah yes," he mused, taking a slow step back. "Which you then went—"

He hunched forward, gripping his chest and throat as his face contorted in a dramatic expression of pain. "Oh, it burns! My throat! My chest!" He gasped loudly, grasping at his shirt like he was on the verge of collapsing. "I’m dying!"

"You’re exaggerating, dumbass. I only reacted like that because I had no idea it was whiskey, and I drank it too fast." With that, she brushed past him, making a beeline for the bar counter.

—----

Hours later.

The door to their hotel room swung open, crashing lightly against the wall as Enzo stepped in, supporting Adeline’s weight as she slumped against him.

Her arm was draped lazily over his shoulder, her flushed face resting lightly against his neck. She was drunk. Not just tipsy, but completely and utterly wasted.

Enzo himself wasn’t exactly sober either. His own face was lightly flushed, and his movements had a little sway to them, but he was nowhere near as gone as she was.