I pause, thinking a moment. “No,” I say finally, my voice cold but quiet. “Just her.” I walk back to the window, watching as employees gather around her and escort her to me as instructed. Her attention is mine, and mine alone. I’m not about to compete for it. My reflection catches in the glass for a split second. Controlled and untouched by anything happening below. Just like it needs to be. Like it should be.
CHAPTER 19
Payson
Menin black suits who look like they mean business close in around me before I can fully process what is happening. They aren’t security. Not exactly. “Ma’am, we need you to come with us,” the one with dark blond hair says, his voice calm but firm. “Please.” I glance between the two men. Their posture tells me it’s a request, but not optional. My head is still spinning from the noise, and the sudden rush of people trying to get closer. Hands reaching, voices overlapping, bodies coming way too close for comfort, like I am something to be claimed instead of a person who just needs her space.
A few more men filter in, creating a wall of muscle between the crowd and me. I look to my best friend, who is silently watching and asking what the hell is going on. “I’ll go find my husband,” she says quickly, already backing away. “I’ll meet you in just a few.” Her words do nothing to calm me. Not even a little.
I look to the large, slanted glass windows above me, a subtle smirk planting on my lips. Maybe this mysterious boss man is just trying to cheer me up. “I’m sorry, miss,” the blond hairedman says, looking at me. “We were instructed to bring you, and only you alone.”
Before I can acknowledge that, they usher me through the casino quickly and efficiently. A little too efficiently. There are so many of them surrounding me that I lose all sense of direction within seconds. Left, right, into an elevator, down a hallway that doesn’t seem familiar. The uproar of the casino fades away the further we walk. That puts me on edge. “Will one of you go get my friends?” I ask, glancing to the blond haired man to my right. “They will be looking for me, and I don’t want them to have to fight a crowd that wanted to pummel me for my winnings.” He doesn’t laugh. Doesn’t even smile. I thought for sure that was a little funny.
“I’m sure they are being taken care of, ma’am.” But that’s not reassuring.
We stop in front of a door that looks like it doesn’t belong to the rest of this place. It’s an aching reminder that symbolizes the way I feel. It’s matte black with gold accents that glimmer as the light catches them, making them stand out. Intentional but different. A door that resembles importance. One of the men step forward, opening it, and something in my chest tightens before I even step in. I don’t know why, I just feel it. The door clicks quietly closed behind me, locking me in. When I turn, that’s when I see him. The man whose sinful face has appeared in my dreams far too often.
He’s standing behind a sleek mahogany desk, his back to me, like he already knew I was coming and didn’t feel the need to turn around to confirm it. My breath catches before I can control it. He’s dressed in a white button-up, sleeves rolled just enough to expose muscular forearms, black pants tailored perfectly to him, and is he wearing Hey Dudes? A small almost disbelieving smile tugs at my lips despite everything. How…formal?
My eyes make my may up his body before I can stop myself. His dark hair is cropped just enough on the sides to frame his perfect jaw. And a five o’clock shadow lines it perfectly, like it was meant to be there. Like he was carved by the gods and thrown into the world to deliberately break you just to see how far he could. He lifts the glass in his hand, swirling the amber liquid around inside. The muscles in his arm flex with the motion. Ink trails along one forearm, a pattern I can’t quite make out from where I stand. I’m staring. I know I am, but I can’t seem to stop.
I’m drawn to him. I was when we first met, except I knew better than to act on it. I’m engaged. I shouldn’t be thinking of another man. Well, I was engaged. That ended a few hours ago, even though I have yet to officially announce it. The man beside me clears his throat, and I startle slightly, heat rushing to my face. A whisper of a chuckle sounds behind me. Perfect. Of course they noticed, I mean it’s not like I was being obvious. “I’ll take it from here.”
His voice is deep and rough around the edges in a way that shouldn’t sound as good as it does. A tone I am not accustomed to. It carries through the room, low and controlled, echoing faintly off the floor-to-ceiling windows that line the far wall where he is standing. Wait. My gaze flicks toward them, catching the movement of people below. He was watching me. He turns and sweet mother of sin, he looks far better than he did a few weeks ago. Or maybe I am just noticing him, really noticing now.
If my chest wasn’t already tightened and my insides weren’t already twisted, I would say somehow they are tightening more. And something hotter, sharper, more dangerous is taking root. This isn’t good. “Have a seat,” he says, gesturing toward the leather chairs beside the desk. My body hesitates before stepping forward, trying and failing to gather whatever composure I haveleft. The men that were behind me must have slipped out as I was caught in my own little world.
“You have become a very wealthy woman tonight, Miss Reith.” I let out a small breath, forcing my voice to steady as I move closer to him.
“Really? I’m starting to think I didn’t win anything at all, seeing how your men rushed me the second the alarms started blaring.”
“Sorry about that,” he says, his voice smoothing out to the way he spoke to me at the party. “Protocol.”
“Sure,” I mutter, lowering myself into the chair. “Well, next time maybe let the person finish processing what’s happening before...this.” I gesture around. “I wasn’t exactly sure if I won or got kidnapped.”
Silence stretches between us for a second too long. I try to focus on anything but him. The desk, the glass in his hand, the view behind him. Why does looking at that sinful face make me question even more than I need to be?
“When I’m having a conversation with someone, Miss Reith,” he says, voice quieter now, but somehow deeper, “I expect them to look at me while doing so.” My stomach drops. Not in fear. Something worse. The moment I lift my eyes to meet his, I feel it. And I haven’t felt anything like it in a long time. Maybe not ever.
CHAPTER 20
Ledgar
She tiltsher head to look at me and there it is. That flicker of desire is there in her eyes. Just like it was in the cameras, in the elevator after her world started to unravel, even at the party. It’s stronger now. Like now she is trying to let herself feel, make herself feel anything other than pain. I shouldn’t notice. I should definitely not care that she looks at me like I’m the rebound. But I do. Something shifts in me. Curiosity and a little shock that I would proudly be her rebound. A night with me and she would never think of what happened mere hours ago again.
She shifts slightly, like she’s trying to figure out her reaction to the way I’m looking back at her. Like she doesn’t know if how she is feeling is normal. “Tell me,” I say, setting my glass down on the desk. “Do you always demand that much attention, or was tonight different?” Her eyes narrow, her shoulders square, and she lifts her chin up to me like she’s bracing herself. There she is. The spitfire of a woman who has invaded my mind since that night at the party.
“Is this the part where you tell me how lucky I am?” She shoots back, her voice stronger now than it was when she entered, but with an edge. Curiosity eats at me to test her. To see how far I can push her before making her cave, but now’s not the time.
“It’s not,” I say, tilting my head slightly, watching her. “This is the part where I figure out if you actually deserve it.”
My words land exactly how I intended them to. Her eyes flash with enough emotion, it gives her away. “I didn’t realize I was being evaluated,” she quips back, a hint of defiance in her words.
“You are now.”
A thick silence stretches between us. Deadly. Deliberate. She doesn’t look away, and that’s her mistake. Because now I can see everything in those chocolate brown eyes. The way she’s barely holding it together. The betrayal. The pain. There is something raw and vulnerable underneath it all. I shouldn’t want to claim it.
As I step closer, not enough to crowd her, but just enough that she feels it, I whisper, “You don’t look like someone who just won.”
