Page 73 of The Pakhans’ Curvy Prize

I'm here for one reason: to find out why the mayor's son was in my territory less than two weeks ago. The timing is too suspicious to ignore. Marla's ex-boyfriend showing up at the Ivory Wolf right before the warehouse attack, right when all three of us were distracted by her, raises every red flag in my body.

"Sharon's working the back section," Alex says quietly, nodding toward the rear of the club.

I spot her near the service station, organizing glassware on a tray. She looks up as we approach, and her face goes pale the moment she recognizes us. Her hands freeze mid-motion, and I watch her swallow hard before setting down the glass she's holding.

"Sharon," I say, keeping my voice calm. "We need to talk. Privately."

She nods quickly and follows us toward one of the private offices near the VIP section. The hallway back here is narrow and dimly lit, designed for discretion. Soundproofing keeps conversations from bleeding into the main club. It's where we conduct business we don't want overheard.

I close the door behind us and pull out my phone, scrolling to the photo one of my men sent me earlier. It's a surveillance shot from the club's exterior cameras, grainy but clear enough. I turn the screen toward Sharon.

"You recognize this man?"

She leans forward, squinting at the image, and her expression shifts immediately. Recognition flashes across her face, followed by something that looks like nervousness.

"Yeah," she says quietly. "I've seen him."

"When?"

"Maybe two weeks ago? He was here after closing. I was finishing my shift and saw him near the VIP offices." She gestures vaguely toward the hallway we just walked through. "He looked like he belonged here, you know? Confident and comfortable. I figured he was meeting someone important."

"Did he speak to you?"

"No. He barely looked at me." She shifts her weight from one foot to the other, clearly uncomfortable. "But now that I think about it, he was asking some guys about a woman, if they'd seen her."

Sharon's eyes widen and her face pales even more. "Oh God! I didn't put it together at the time, but the woman he described sounded just like Marla!"

A twinge of unexpected fear crawls up my spine and I clamp it down ruthlessly. Marla is safe and protected. There's no way in hell he'll get within a mile of her without us knowing—and stopping him.

"Who is he?" Sharon asks, drawing me back to the present and away from my murderous and protective thoughts.

"Her ex-boyfriend."

Sharon's eyes widen. "Zach?" she practically squeaks out. "How did he..." She shakes her head. "How is Marla?"

I'm glad Marla's best friend is aware of her past with Zach. She'll be even that much more diligent keeping an eye out for him.

"Safe," I say firmly. "If you see him again," I say, my voice dropping lower, "you contact me immediately. Understand?"

Sharon nods quickly. "Yes. Of course."

I dismiss her with a gesture, and she practically runs out of the office. The moment the door closes behind her, Alex turns to me.

"He's been here before," Alex says. "That's not a coincidence."

"No, it's not."

Before I can say anything else, the door opens again without a knock. I turn, irritation flaring, and freeze when I see who's standing in the doorway.

Arina.

My sister is striking. She draws attention without effort. Long dark hair falls past her shoulders in waves, and she's dressed in a fitted black dress that shows off her figure. She moves into the office like she owns it, her heels clicking against the hardwood floor.

"Nick," she says, her voice warm and teasing. "I didn't know you were here."

"What do you want, Arina?"

She ignores my tone and turns her attention to Alex, her expression shifting, becoming flirtatious. She steps closer to him, smoothing her hand over his arm in a gesture that's too familiar.