Gabby noticed, like she always did. She slid off my lap with a cat’s grace, but her eyes shot to Lucy.
“She doesn’t belong here and you know it, Pres,” she drawled, sauntering back behind the bar.
My glare snapped to her. “You can leave anytime, Gabby. Lucy’s staying.”
Her smile twitched before she grabbed a bottle of Jack and busied herself. She’d heard me loud and clear.
That’s when Link stood from his stool, grin stretched wide, eyes dragging over Lucy like she was already his. “Lucy,” he said, his voice warm, easy, “you look?—”
She tilted her head, lashes lowering, smile sharp and sweet all at once. “Better than you remember?”
Link chuckled, stepping closer.
I growled. Low. Guttural. Enough to still the room. My stool scraped back, boots heavy on the floor.
Link froze mid-step, his hands lifted in mock surrender, smirk faltering just a fraction. “Easy, Pres. Just being polite.”
I didn’t answer. Didn’t need to. My eyes never left Lucy, chained to hers like nothing else in the damn room existed.
I tipped my head, and a prospect slid two beers down the bar. “No answers yet?” I asked loud enough for the room.
She faltered for half a step but recovered. She sat beside me, and heat rolled off her, magnetic and dangerous. The pull was almost too much to resist.
“No answers yet,” she murmured.
I smirked, leaning in close. “Did you expect them to come easy?”
Her jaw flexed. She wanted to argue, wanted to burn me, and I wanted to let her. God help me, I wanted her fire.
It took everything in me not to haul her onto the bar and claim her right there, in front of everyone. My men were watching and waiting, and she was testing me.
“You need to leave, princess,” I muttered. “Before you dig a hole you can’t climb out of.”
Her lips curled, slow and dangerous. “I don’t think you want me to leave.”
The way she said it, low and knowing, lit my blood on fire.
I tried to deny it. “You’re wrong.”
“Am I?” she pushed, smile curving sharper.
Then she stood, stool scraping loud, every head in the room snapping towards us. She walked straight for the back rooms, hips swaying like she owned the place. Like I didn’t matter.
My stool groaned as I shoved to my feet. My club. My house. My rules. And she spat on all of it.
I caught her at the door, palm slamming against the frame, caging her in. “Looking for something?”
Her eyes met mine, bright with challenge. “Maybe.”
I leaned in, chest brushing her shoulder, voice razor-sharp in her ear. “You don’t belong back here.”
“Like I said, I don’t think you want me to leave,” she shot back, calm and lethal. “Maybe if you’d tried harder, Caleb would have stayed too.”
Something snapped. My hand closed around her arm, dragging her into the hallway and slamming her to the wall. My palm braced beside her head.
“Say that again,” I hissed, my breath hot against her mouth.
She met my fury without a flicker of fear. “You think I’m scared of you, Jay? You think I’ll shut up just because you bark louder than the rest of your boys?”
