Chapter 13 Rowan
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
ROWAN
This is the last place I feel like being right now.
The look on Hannah’s face as she fled that room is going to feature in my nightmares for the rest of my life. I’ve seen men killed in some of the most gruesome ways possible and have never seen their faces when I close my eyes, but my girl’s tears?
Fuck.
I rub my chest, but it does nothing to dispel the ache that’s settled there.
Asher texted a little while ago to let me know he was staying with her, and as relieved as I am that she hasn’t completely shut him out, I’m also jealous as hell. There’s nothing I wouldn’t give to hold her while she sleeps, to protect her from the world while she rests, but our time will come.
Sooner rather than later, if this little meeting of the assholes is anything to go by.
Strip clubs are not my scene. Never have been, never will be, but I find myself in a booth in the corner, sipping cheap whiskey while watching Jeffrey Malone sweet-talk a table full of prospective husbands for his granddaughter.
I had hoped he would stop his search once he had his initial short list, but it seems he’s making sure he gets the most out of this match.
Hannah is the last heir to the Malone empire, but it would be a cold day in hell before her grandfather would even consider handing her the keys to the kingdom.
It doesn’t matter that she finished top of her class at Yale last fall. The fact that she doesn’t have a penis swinging between her legs cuts her from contention.
Maybe that’s what he’s looking for. Someone he trusts to take over the reins.
That’s why he forced Marianne to marry me. He thought he could manipulate me, mold me in a way that would make him more comfortable with retiring.
But in the end, I wasn’t what either of them was looking for. One, because I had less than zero interest in that vapid snake, and two, because I run my own empire. I have no interest in anyone else’s.
I take another sip and drop my gaze to my phone. They’re probably asleep right now, but that doesn’t ease the disappointment.
The only person who looks less thrilled to be here than I am is the woman Jeffrey has perched on his lap. Her long blonde hair rests over her bare tits, her fake smile plastered across her lips, but her eyes tell an entirely different story.
When my contact called to let me know this meeting was going ahead tonight, I was halfway home and more than ready to put this day behind me. But it’s important for us to know who we’re up against, and Hannah always comes first.
She’s always the priority.
A topless waitress stops at the edge of the table, cutting off my view of the other side of the room. “Can I get you anything else, handsome?” she asks.
I shake my head. “No, thanks. Just the check.”
She nods and drops the piece of paper on the table before sauntering to the next table.
I drop cash on top, enough to cover my two drinks and a sizable tip before pushing myself out of the booth and heading for the door.
I’ve seen enough. There’s no reason for me to spend the rest of my night watching a man I hate more than almost anyone else on this planet.
Peeling out of the parking lot, I take a left toward the house, even though my chest aches to make a right toward Hannah.
One day soon she’ll spend every night pressed between us, but for now, I have to be patient.
No matter how unnatural that may be to a man like me.
The drive is quiet despite being through the heart of New York City, but then again, it is two in the morning on a weekday.
I park my car in the garage and head straight upstairs to the bedroom, peeling my suit off as soon as I cross the threshold.
I drop my phone on the bed, scowling when I notice a message from an unknown number. This is my private phone, one that only a handful of people can contact me on, but as soon as I read the words, I know exactly who sent it.
Unknown: The harder you make this, the harder I’ll make it for her.
I’ve never hidden the fact that I watch over Hannah from the world. I may have only been in my sham of a marriage for a year, but it was long enough for me to be able to claim concerned ex-stepfather.
I know you’re probably thinking I’m a pervert for my obsession with Hannah, and perhaps you’re right, but I didn’t meet her until after she was of age, and I’ve waited five years to make a move.
And you know what they say? You can’t help who you fall in love with.