Sal nodded, though his eyes remained skeptical. "I hope so. For both our sakes."
Feeling drained, I left his office. The conversation had gone better than expected, but Sal's concerns echoed my own unspoken worries. I knew it was only a matter of time before Salquestioned where my loyalty lay. As I pushed through the staff exit into the back alley, a familiar figure detached itself from the shadows.
"Took you long enough," Harley said, flicking away a cigarette. Gavriel's best friend looked as disheveled as always, his dark hair falling across eyes that missed nothing.
I stopped short, my heart restarting from the startle. "What are you doing here?"
"Waiting for you." Harley stepped closer, his expression hardening. “What are you doing at the Lounge, Elin?”
"My job." Brushing past him toward the parking lot, I continued, "Not that it's any of your business."
Harley matched my stride, his lanky frame easily keeping pace. "It becomes my business when a partner of the Azzaro family is working at a competing club in this territory."
"Business is one thing," I retorted, keys jingling in my hand as I fished them from my purse. "The Lounge was part of my life long before the Azzaros became my partners."
Harley stepped in front of me, blocking my path to my car. His eyes, usually dancing with mischief, were deadly serious now.
"This isn't about territory or business, Elin. It's about Gav."
Something in his tone made me pause. "What about him?"
"He's different since Joel died." Harley ran a hand through his already disheveled hair. "Distracted. Making decisions he wouldn't normally make. Taking risks." He studied my face. "What's your endgame here? What do you want from him long-term?"
I felt a flash of irritation. "There is no 'endgame,' Harley. Everything between Gavriel and me is business. We have an agreement that works for both of us." I moved to step around him. "If you want details, ask him yourself."
His hand shot out, not touching me but hovering near my arm. "Business? Is that what you call it when he cancels meetings tosee you? When he checks his phone every five minutes hoping you've texted?"
I blinked at him in surprise. “I had no idea Gavriel was doing any of that.”
Harley's voice dropped. "He's head over heels for you, Elin. And if you care about him at all—even a little—you'll stop being his domme if you don't feel the same way."
His words hit me like a physical blow. First, Harley knew, which meant that Gavriel had felt safe enough to tell him. Then there was the fact that I hadn't allowed myself to think too deeply about what was happening between Gavriel and me. Last night in my office had been a turning point for sure, but the sessions, the late-night conversations, and the way his eyes followed me when he thought I wasn't looking I’d thought were just part of the dynamic. But to be something more committed when he was the one who’d killed Dad?
"It's . . . complicated," I said finally, my voice softer than I intended. "The line between business and personal is getting blurry. I'm trying not to overthink it and just enjoy his company right now."
Something like sympathy flickered across Harley's face. "That's not fair to him, and you know it."
"Life isn't fair," I replied, the words automatic, defensive. But they tasted like dirt in my mouth.
Harley stepped back, hands raised in surrender. "Just be careful. Gav isn't like your other clients. When he falls, he falls hard. And when he breaks . . ." He shook his head. "The Azzaro family can't afford for him to break."
I unlocked my car, sliding into the driver's seat without responding. As I pulled away, I caught Harley's reflection in my rearview mirror, a solitary figure watching me leave.
My phone buzzed in the cupholder. Gavriel's name lit up the screen with a simple message: "Dinner tonight?"
I stared at those two words, hearing Harley's warning echo in my mind. The responsible thing would be to create distance, to reinforce boundaries. To protect both of us from whatever this was becoming.
Instead, I typed back: "My place. 8 pm."
Some risks were worth taking, even if I wasn't ready to fully admit why.
Chapter 24
Thebassvibratedthroughthe club, a low thrumming against my ribs. Another Friday night, another shift where we were short-staffed, so Elin and I were helping behind the bar. The air hung thick with the smell of spilled beer and cheap perfume. Emptying the dishwasher, I polished a glass, a rhythmic motion in the midst of the chaotic energy around us. Elin, in an impossibly short black dress, was expertly navigating the throng of customers. I had to wonder just how much her father had taught her and where she had learned the small tricks of the trade.
“Another round of Long Islands,” a member requested in front of Elin. She moved with practiced grace, her body swaying slightly as she reached for bottles.
It had been like this for hours. More than once, her movements had brought her close enough for me to catch the scent of her tangerine-vanilla perfume. Each touch, the curve of her back, the glimpse of her skin, all entirely accidental of course, sent a jolt through me. It was like a slow, agonizingly deliberate dance.
