He does not.
His fingers loosen, but only a little.
My heart hammers. My mouth is dry. My legs want to do something dramatic, like shake or sprint or resign from my body entirely.
I take one step back.
Mick’s eyes go flat.
Then I hear Sylvie behind me.
"Thea?"
I turn just as two men step out of the private hallway. One catches Sylvie around the waist. The other grabs me before I can kick him in the balls.
Mick releases my elbow. "Thirty seconds," he tells them. "Then bring them out."
"Where are you going?" I snap.
His smile comes back, slick and satisfied.
"To introduce you."
CHAPTER 2
THEA
The lights are too damn bright.
That's the first thing I notice as the door snaps shut behind us and a shove between my shoulder blades sends me stumbling forward into white-hot glare. The world beyond the stage edge disappears into shadow.
My heel catches on a low lip. I flail, barely catching myself.
I spend what feels like eternity trying to get my heel unjammed.
Perfect. I’m going to die because of bad men and worse footwear.
"Thea?" Sylvie's voice hits my back. She bumps into my side, grabbing for my arm. "What the hell. This isn't the bathroom."
"Yeah," I say tightly. "I noticed."
A mic pops and crackles, the sound booming around us. The stage lights make my eyes ache.
"Ladies and gentlemen," a smooth voice purrs, "welcome to tonight's main event."
Mick.
Of course.
My stomach drops.
I squint past the glare, trying to see him. As my vision adjusts, the room takes shape: round tables, men in suits, some with women draped over their arms. Shadows cut their faces, but their eyes catch the light. Flat, interested, cold.
Not the bar crowd.
The Belvedere had three floors guests never saw. Private gaming rooms. Off-book elevators. Events that didn’t appear on any schedule unless your name was worth more than the building.
I’d cleaned around those floors for two years and still didn’t know what happened behind half the doors. Now I did.
