Chapter 19
Payson
Men in black suits who look like they mean business close in around me before I can fully process what is happening.
They aren’t security. Not exactly. “Ma’am, we need you to come with us,” the one with dark blond hair says, his voice calm but firm.
“Please.” I glance between the two men. Their posture tells me it’s a request, but not optional.
My head is still spinning from the noise, and the sudden rush of people trying to get closer.
Hands reaching, voices overlapping, bodies coming way too close for comfort, like I am something to be claimed instead of a person who just needs her space.
A few more men filter in, creating a wall of muscle between the crowd and me.
I look to my best friend, who is silently watching and asking what the hell is going on.
“I’ll go find my husband,” she says quickly, already backing away.
“I’ll meet you in just a few.” Her words do nothing to calm me. Not even a little.
I look to the large, slanted glass windows above me, a subtle smirk planting on my lips. Maybe this mysterious boss man is just trying to cheer me up. “I’m sorry, miss,” the blond haired man says, looking at me. “We were instructed to bring you, and only you alone.”
Before I can acknowledge that, they usher me through the casino quickly and efficiently.
A little too efficiently. There are so many of them surrounding me that I lose all sense of direction within seconds.
Left, right, into an elevator, down a hallway that doesn’t seem familiar.
The uproar of the casino fades away the further we walk.
That puts me on edge. “Will one of you go get my friends?” I ask, glancing to the blond haired man to my right.
“They will be looking for me, and I don’t want them to have to fight a crowd that wanted to pummel me for my winnings.
” He doesn’t laugh. Doesn’t even smile. I thought for sure that was a little funny.
“I’m sure they are being taken care of, ma’am.” But that’s not reassuring.
We stop in front of a door that looks like it doesn’t belong to the rest of this place.
It’s an aching reminder that symbolizes the way I feel.
It’s matte black with gold accents that glimmer as the light catches them, making them stand out.
Intentional but different. A door that resembles importance.
One of the men step forward, opening it, and something in my chest tightens before I even step in.
I don’t know why, I just feel it. The door clicks quietly closed behind me, locking me in.
When I turn, that’s when I see him. The man whose sinful face has appeared in my dreams far too often.
He’s standing behind a sleek mahogany desk, his back to me, like he already knew I was coming and didn’t feel the need to turn around to confirm it.
My breath catches before I can control it.
He’s dressed in a white button-up, sleeves rolled just enough to expose muscular forearms, black pants tailored perfectly to him, and is he wearing Hey Dudes?
A small almost disbelieving smile tugs at my lips despite everything. How…formal?
My eyes make my may up his body before I can stop myself.
His dark hair is cropped just enough on the sides to frame his perfect jaw.
And a five o’clock shadow lines it perfectly, like it was meant to be there.
Like he was carved by the gods and thrown into the world to deliberately break you just to see how far he could.
He lifts the glass in his hand, swirling the amber liquid around inside.
The muscles in his arm flex with the motion.
Ink trails along one forearm, a pattern I can’t quite make out from where I stand.
I’m staring. I know I am, but I can’t seem to stop.
I’m drawn to him. I was when we first met, except I knew better than to act on it.
I’m engaged. I shouldn’t be thinking of another man.
Well, I was engaged. That ended a few hours ago, even though I have yet to officially announce it.
The man beside me clears his throat, and I startle slightly, heat rushing to my face.
A whisper of a chuckle sounds behind me.
Perfect. Of course they noticed, I mean it’s not like I was being obvious. “I’ll take it from here.”
His voice is deep and rough around the edges in a way that shouldn’t sound as good as it does.
A tone I am not accustomed to. It carries through the room, low and controlled, echoing faintly off the floor-to-ceiling windows that line the far wall where he is standing.
Wait. My gaze flicks toward them, catching the movement of people below.
He was watching me. He turns and sweet mother of sin, he looks far better than he did a few weeks ago.
Or maybe I am just noticing him, really noticing now.
If my chest wasn’t already tightened and my insides weren’t already twisted, I would say somehow they are tightening more.
And something hotter, sharper, more dangerous is taking root.
This isn’t good. “Have a seat,” he says, gesturing toward the leather chairs beside the desk.
My body hesitates before stepping forward, trying and failing to gather whatever composure I have left.
The men that were behind me must have slipped out as I was caught in my own little world.
“You have become a very wealthy woman tonight, Miss Reith.” I let out a small breath, forcing my voice to steady as I move closer to him.
“Really? I’m starting to think I didn’t win anything at all, seeing how your men rushed me the second the alarms started blaring.”
“Sorry about that,” he says, his voice smoothing out to the way he spoke to me at the party. “Protocol.”
“Sure,” I mutter, lowering myself into the chair. “Well, next time maybe let the person finish processing what’s happening before...this.” I gesture around. “I wasn’t exactly sure if I won or got kidnapped.”
Silence stretches between us for a second too long. I try to focus on anything but him. The desk, the glass in his hand, the view behind him. Why does looking at that sinful face make me question even more than I need to be?
“When I’m having a conversation with someone, Miss Reith,” he says, voice quieter now, but somehow deeper, “I expect them to look at me while doing so.” My stomach drops.
Not in fear. Something worse. The moment I lift my eyes to meet his, I feel it.
And I haven’t felt anything like it in a long time. Maybe not ever.