“Why don’t we join the party? I’m sure your guests are eager to wish you a happy birthday,” Damon suggests, standing up. He keeps his predatory gaze on Sherri. “Perhaps Mrs. Li would care to share a dance later?”
Han snorts, wobbling as he and Pei stand up. “She would be honored to dance with you.” He glares at his wife. “Isn’t that right?”
Sherri nods, swallowing. “Of course, Mr. Cavanaugh.” She gestures toward the exit. “This way, please. The ballroom is on the mezzanine.”
As we follow Sherry into the ballroom, the crowd erupts, clapping and cheering for Han. I seize the moment and grab Damon's arm, pulling him aside. "Don't do somethingstupid, Cavanaugh," I grunt. "I know what you're planning. It's dangerous."
“Oh, relax,” Damon scoffs, waving me off with a dismissive hand. “This plan is even better than the last. Did you see how she looked at me? That's a desperate housewife if I've ever seen one."
My lip twitches. “What you're planning to do is unethical, Damon. Fuck her and then rob her?”
Damon rolls his eyes, scoffing. "Let's not talk aboutethics, Q. I'm going to get the Li's a little more drunk first, and then when the time comes, meet me in my suite. I figure the main closet is large enough for you to hide out in.”
I blink. "Pardon?”
Damon shrugs. "The instant those diamonds are off, you grab them and get out, is that clear?"
I glare at him. “And then what? She's going to know it was you."
A sly smirk creeps onto Damon's face. "She's the wife of a notorious wannabe gangster, Quinton. You honestly think she'd admit to an affair?" He pokes my forehead. "Use your brain,Doctor. She'll come up with some sort of explanation. We can deal with that later."
“I—”
“This will work,” Damon says, so confident his head might explode. “Trust me, Q.”
“How are you so certain that she’ll evenwantto come upstairs?” I ask the obvious question. “Like you said, she’s a gangster's wife. She might be more cautious than you give her credit for.”
Damon snorts, chuckling as he pats me on the shoulder. “You’re funny, Quinton. Sometimes, I miss your humor.”
And with that, he disappears into the party.
The rest of the evening is terribly tense as I subtly watch the Li's get more intoxicated, their speeches slurring, their gaitsuncoordinated. At one point, Han and Pei sneak away with two young ladies. I don’t need a grand imagination to discern what they’re doing.
Damon hunts his prey like a goddamn expert. Poor Sherri falls right into all of his traps, and then, when the party is at its peak, my phone buzzes with a message from Damon.
Now.
Following the plan, I head upstairs and into Damon’s suite.
I stare at the closet doors for several long seconds, contemplating the choices that brought me to this exact moment. How utterly ridiculous. I am a grown man about to hide in a fucking coat closet?
My introspection doesn’t last long as the doorknob jangles, and I throw myself into the wardrobe, the hangers chiming against my head as I duck down.
That motherfucker.
With a deep breath, I crouch down and listen for my cue.
But that’s not all I hear.
Sherri’s moans are deafening as they stumble into the suite. Various vases crash and shatter on the floor. Heavy breaths. Damon’s signature growl.
“Strip,” he commands. A few minutes pass, and his tone drops to a wolfish drawl. “Everything, Sherri. Every little thing. I want to see you completely bare. Only skin.” A pause. “That’s a good girl. Now…” I hear his bedroom door creak open. “Crawl to me.”
I smirk, almost wishing I could watch.
THE FINAL ACT
EMERY
