I snap my gaze away before the heat in my cheeks betrays me.
This isn’t just a check-in.
Choosing to ignore the doom and gloom looming in triplicate, I drop into the chair across from my father and cross my legs, a slow smile tugging at my lips. “So, what’s the emergency? Did I cause an international scandal? Offend a business partner? Tell me it’s at least something fun.”
Dad sighs, shaking his head. “Willow.”
Shit. He’s using that voice—the calm, measured one that means he’s about to hit me with something I really don’t want to hear.
“I got a call this morning.”
I scoff. “Incredible. A powerful businessman receiving a call? What’s next? Emails?”
From the corner of my eye, I catch movement—one of the men coughs into his hand, amusement flickering across his face. The one with the golden hair. His lips twitch as he runs ahand through the mess on his head like he already knows he’s not supposed to be amused—but is anyway.
The man beside him elbows him lightly, a subtle shift of muscle and irritation. A silent warning.
And the quiet one? His gaze hasn’t left me.
Dad continues, unimpressed. “From my security team. Regarding an incident at Poor Choices last night.”
Ah. There it is.
I keep my face neutral, but my stomach tightens. “Not much of an incident.”
“Not much of an—” He exhales sharply, dragging a hand down his face. “Willow, a man followed you into a locked bathroom.”
“Technically, he brought me with him and locked the door after.”
Eric mutters something under his breath that could only be unbelievable, and the gray-eyed one—Mr. Tall, Dark, and Serious—tilts his head, brow creasing as if he’s cataloging the information for later.
Dad levels me with a look. “That’s your defense?”
I shrug, playing it off. “He let me go.”
A sharp breath escapes the man near the window—the one who hasn't stopped watching me. His jaw ticks, just once, the smallest betrayal that the thought of someone locking me in a room doesn’t sit well. Noted.
Eric snorts. “That doesn’t make it better.”
“Nothing happened,” I insist, flicking my eyes to him. “Finn’s just… Finn. He’s been hanging around for a while. He’s harmless.”
Dad’s jaw tightens. “He’s not harmless, Willow. And he’s been hanging around for years.” He pulls a folder from his desk and pushes it toward me. “State to state. Game to game. Everywhere you go, he’s there.”
I don’t take the folder. I don’t need to. Because I already know.
I swallow hard. “So, what? You had him investigated?”
“Of course I did. I should have done it sooner.”
I let out a bitter laugh, shaking my head. “Jesus, Dad.”
He watches me carefully. “And I wasn’t happy with what I found.”
Silence stretches. Nobody moves.
Even the one who looked like he could charm his way out of anything is serious now, his grin faded into a tense line. The air shifts around the others too—heavier somehow.
I glance away, focusing on a spot on the desk. “He’s a beta.”
