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“She’s my date. You think this is some kind of bidding war, asshole?” I snarl in his face, still quiet enough to not bring attention to us. “Wrong fucking event.”

“I’d pay you good money for her—”

I snap. Fury settles my bones.

Reaching into my pocket, I pull out my gun, but my arm is quickly shoved back down by a ringed hand.

“Xander,” Jacques hisses.

“Mr Warren, we have somewhere to be,” Ezra cuts in, standing beside us, arms folded in front of him, attempting to deescalate the situation.

I rip out of Jac’s grip and grab Frederick by the collar. “If you so much as look in her direction again, I’m going to personally burn your club down to the ground, rip your eyeballs out of your sockets, and feed them to you.” Pushing him backwards, he stumbles into someone. Gasps ring out, and the sounds of joyful commotion and activity quiet to a low murmur, violins still playing in the background.

Frederick laughs uncomfortably as I follow Ezra and Daniel out with Camila in front of me, passing him fixing his tie while others gape at him.

A smack resounds in the room. Frederick’s hand on Camila’s ass burns through me, and Camila’s gasp tolls in my ears. She clutches her butt, spinning, her arm out ready to swing, but before she can, I draw my gun from my blazer again, pointing it at his head and pulling the trigger.

Another set of gasps, then silence.

Camila whirls, her legs speeding up the stairs as we all chase behind her.

“Are you okay?” I ask, and I can see the shaky nod of her head through her curls.

It seems all I’ve been fucking doing recently is asking if she’s okay. This shouldn’t be happening. How can I keep her safe if all I’m doing is putting her in danger?

“Nothing to see here. Let the party continue," Jac pronounces when we reach the top of the stairs.

In an instant, the music resumes.

Chapter 35

Camila

If I had doubts, they’re long gone now.

That’s the lengths he’ll go to for me. He’s proved it.

There are no bounds to how far those stretch.

“Where are we going?” I ask.

I’m not complaining about leaving. I don’t fit into that scene. I felt so out of place, even knowing I was surrounded by criminals. What Luke did was on a smaller scale than these people. I lived in a trap house. Run down, stacked with drugs, filled with bad people. Xander… he’s got a whole mansion. He donates to charity.

My heart is still racing from the events mere seconds ago. But I feel dumbstruck that he would do this. A trepidatious euphoria. It has me questioning my own moral compass.

These people… they’re not your typical criminals. They clearly live their life in luxury—something that I’m not used to, something that I wasn’t born for. And when this all blows over, mine and Xander’s time will be over. He’ll find someone in another rich family; they’ll join together and make themselves richer. That’s how it all works, right?

A nauseous feeling settles in me at that thought.

“There’s someone we need to meet. Someone that could help us track Luke down,” Jac replies.

And there goes even more nausea.

Xander holds my hand through the white halls. We pass Penelope talking to a couple of guests, who stares longingly at Xander like he might notice her.

He doesn’t.

A sudden urge to throttle her inundates me.