Page 7 of Trading In A Broken Heart

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We were sitting at dinner as my mind drifted to Savion. I remembered seeing him last night, but that was about it. That man was fine as hell, but I knew he was off-limits. That was why I planned on staying as far away from him as possible ’til I made it back home.

I found it crazy as fuck that I was running into him now, when I didn’t even cross paths with him ’til the whole shit with my family happened—when I was being set up by Wicked’s fuck buddy, Zola. I guessed I could thank her crazy ass for bringing him into my life.

“Sol?” I snapped from my thoughts when I heard my name.

“You good?” Imani questioned me.

“Yeah.” I twirled the straw inside my French 75.

She briefly stared at me before turning her attention to Ashley. I saw a guy near the bar that looked like Savion from behind. Sandalwood crept up my nostrils, the scent that I’d smelt on Savion. I know it had to have been a figment of my imagination just because I was thinking of him. The guy turned around just for me to find out it wasn’t him at all.

Get it together, Solei.

We finished up dinner. The girls decided that they were going out, but I really wasn’t up for it. I took one of the vehicles back to the hotel. As I stepped off the elevator, I noticed a bouquet of pink roses sitting at my door.

Stopping, I leaned down to remove the card, but there wasn’t one. Sitting on the floor next to the flowers was a small black gift bag. Picking it up, I reached inside and removed the box from it. When I popped it open, I saw a huge heart diamond necklace that almost resembled the ring on my finger.

I glanced over my shoulder to see if anyone else was around, but the hallway was quiet. I wasn’t sure who left this shit at my door, but I wasn’t about to turn down some jewelry.

I hated noise. Most people feared silence because it forced them to sit with their thoughts. Me? I preferred it.

That was why the command room inside Blackveil Security Group stayed quiet unless I allowed otherwise. The only sounds came from surveillance feeds flickering across monitors and the soft tapping of Ghost’s fingers against the steel table beside me.

Everybody else knew better than to speak unless spoken to.

I sat in the dark corner of the room, watching the city through dozens of camera feeds. Politicians. Drug runners. Athletes. Judges.

Everybody moved under the illusion that nobody was watching them. Meanwhile, I knew what time they left theirs houses. Who they cheated with. Where they hid their money. Who they secretly feared.

Information was power, and I collected power like dirt collected bodies.

Ghost stepped beside me, holding a folder thick enough to ruin lives. “They moved him again.”

I didn’t look away from the screen. “Where?”

“South side dock warehouse.”

I nodded once. Ghost understood me without needing full conversations. That was why he was still alive. Most men talked too much around me. Ghost learned early that silence carried more weight than threats.

I leaned back in my chair while watching one of the camera feeds zoom in on a black Escalade pulling through downtown traffic.

The senator climbed out first. Sweat seeped from his pores. His eyes bounced around, letting it be known that he was nervous about something. Fear always made people obvious.

I adjusted the cufflinks on my wrist before speaking. “Who touched him?”

Ghost smirked faintly and replied, “Reese got impatient.”

My jaw muscles tensed. Not because Reese hurt him, but because I gave specific instructions.

I finally looked over at Ghost.

“Break both his hands.”

Ghost nodded immediately like I’d asked him to grab coffee. I loved that about him. He was always on it. That was the thing about Blackveil. Nobody working for me had clean souls.

I built this company from blood, paranoia, and desperation. Publicly, we were an elite private security firm protecting celebrities, politicians, and wealthy clients.