“No need.” I hear Arlo tap away at his phone.
A few seconds pass.
“Adelaide’s car has GPS. They’re twenty minutes out.”
I nod. “Convenient.”
“Put it in the satnav,” Arlo adds, passing me the details.
I do, and Isaak puts his foot down.
Not long afterwards, we pull into the car park and step out of the vehicle.
Two men stand by the entrance. I slip one of them a folded note, and he lifts the velvet rope without a word.
The place is packed when I step inside.
Bodies crowd the room. Music pulses through the air, conversations overlap.
It doesn’t take me long to find her.
My eyes always find Piper.
The moment I take her in, seated at a table with the others, my jaw clenches and the anger simmering beneath the surface becomes increasingly difficult to contain.
Because sitting across from them are a group of tight arsed little pricks who seem too comfortable with their company.
Particularly the two currently talking to my woman.
I have a feeling the Bratva clean-up crew may end up with more work than usual tonight.
We move without a word.
Within seconds, Arlo has one of the boys by the collar. Milo punches another. Isaak wraps a hand around the throat of the one who’d been flirting with Adelaide.
I pay none of it any attention.
My focus is elsewhere.
I close the distance between us, and the moment my shadow falls over the table, Piper lifts her eyes.
The second they meet mine, she swallows hard.
That’s right, love.
You’ve fucked up.
Talking to another man may prove to be a poor bloody decision.
The two fuckers flanking her don’t even bother to look up. They just keep staring at Piper.
More specifically, at her chest.
I grab them both by the backs of their necks, one in each hand, and squeeze hard to make my point.
One of them manages to turn his head to look at me.
“What the fuck—”
