“We are old friends.”
I step forward, bringing us face-to-face. “You need to leave before you meet your maker.”
“Edward, stop it,” Alora whispers as she looks around. “You’re making a scene.”
“Why should it bother you who Alora is with?” he fires back. “Aren’t you here with another woman?”
“A friend.”
“Does she know that?” He smiles into his drink. “Or is she here chasing her paycheck? People in glass houses shouldn’t throw stones, Mr. Prescott.”
I get a vision of my hand around his throat.
“We’re leaving,” Alora snaps.
“Don’t you dare go anywhere with him. I forbid it.”
“I’ll do whatever I like.”
“The hell you will.” I step forward again.
“Is everything alright here, Mr. Prescott?” My bodyguard Philippe interrupts as he steps in between us.
“Escort this man from the premises immediately.”
“I don’t know what the hell is wrong with you,” Thomas spits. “We’re leaving anyway.”
I step forward to block his way. “You lay a finger on her and I swear to fucking god,” I whisper, “you are a dead man.”
“Edward,” Alora snaps. “Stop it.”
“Is that the best you’ve got?” Thomas smiles. “An idle threat.”
“Let’s go.” Philippe pushes him on the back. “Outside.”
They walk off into the distance as I become glaringly aware that everyone in the bar is watching us. I drag my hand through my hair as I try to compose myself.
“What now, boss?” Herman asks.
“Don’t let them out of your sight, and if he lays one finger on her…bring him to me in a body bag.”
“Yes, sir.” They take off after them.
I drain my glass of scotch, heart pumping hard and so angry that I can hardly see.
“What did I miss?” Colette smiles calmly as she reappears.
“We’re leaving.”
ALORA
Thomas and I rush from the hotel and out onto the road. “Holy shit,” I whisper as he pulls me along the crowded footpath by the hand. “That was….”
“Hectic.”
“I’m so sorry to get you mixed up in this,” I stammer in a fluster. “But did you have to bait him?”
“Listen, I don’t know what the hell is going on with that guy, but he is out of line.”