There’s no need for me to stick around. Hadrian and I are better off being around one another in small doses anyway.
And besides—there’s a guy at the bar that keeps eyeing up a drunk girl. She’s wandered off outside, and my instincts rise when I watch him follow.
It’s been a while since I’ve killed a man. I’m not going to waste this outfit on nothing.
CHAPTER 16
Tristan
Why do rich people feel the need to laugh at their own awful jokes? I’m about ready to shoot myself.
The gala is chock full of the city’s most important. The mayor and local politicians. Various hospital board members. Businessmen who control most of the city’s contracts. And the most annoying client I’ve ever booked to date.
When I booked the wealthy client, it felt like a feat. That was before Ren and before Isolde.
Antonio is keeping close to the wife. I’ve had the pleasure of sticking closest to her husband, listening to him drop some not-so-subtle hints about how successful he is.
I check my watch. Luis took Isolde to some crappy dive bar two hours ago. It sets my teeth on edge at how Hadrian Hallow picked some hole-in-the-wall bar. Like he’s trying to live a more down-to-earth life.
Isolde’s brow had wrinkled the last time we spoke about him. She’d almost seemed protective.
Just like she was protective of Luis. My skin tingles at thememory of her fingers trailing down my arm. It was the first touch between us since I tore into her cunt.
I shift, doing my best to remain professional, but it’s pretty fucking hard when every memory of that night makes my cock stir.
What the fuck were you thinking?
I’d goaded her into it. Had pushed her to let me in more. I hadn’t expected her to point-blank ask me to fuck her. But that’s exactly what Isolde did. I happily obliged.
Then the next morning, she asked to make it a regular thing.
Professional, I chide myself.
My client moves around the room, heading toward a private corner. He’s been chatting up a local politician all night. The gala is raising money for childhood cancer research. Tonight my client will make a donation, but what he’s really hoping to fund is a lucrative business contract.
It’s been hard keeping my bitterness in check the longer I’m surrounded by these rich assholes.
I’ve gotten used to hanging out with Isolde the past week and a half. She hasn’t given me any problems, unlike Ren, who ran around in her ridiculous high heels, not giving a single damn. I should be pleased at how Isolde actually listens to me. She’s a model client. Respectful and courteous. There’s not a single issue sharing the apartment or bathroom.
She gets along with everyone at Leon’s. Elias introduced her to all the regulars, and she’s remembered their names. I understand she’s going stir-crazy without her work or Ren in the city. I don’t blame her for wanting to go out.
I can’t shake the ever present dread of Cade, though.
We’ve done everything right tonight. I trust my guys to provide the same level of customer care and protection as I would if I were there.
So why the fuck does it feel like my skin is crawling all fucking night long?
I meet Antonio’s eye, telling him to keep an eye on my guy, and slip out. Luis hasn’t sent a single update.
It aggravates me that the one time my talkative cousin goes silent, it’s tonight of all nights.
“You look fucking miserable.”
I blink at Tyler. “What the fuck are you doing here?”
He’s got scruff around his jawline, and there are circles under his eyes. But his shoulders are lighter than I’ve ever seen them, despite a newfound grace of maturity clinging to him. Being a doctor suits him.
“The hospital wanted us around,” he says, unimpressed. “You know, explain why childhood cancer is bad.”
