Chapter 17
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
ROWAN
Ishouldn’t be here.
I promised Asher I wouldn’t come, and I fully intended on following through on that promise.
But then I made the mistake of asking Wyatt to look into the guy. The co-owner of the Scarlet Lounge has a way around computers, and while I was able to get some surface-level shit from my own search and my contact at the police department, I want more.
I want to know why Jeffrey chose Trent as the first potential suitor for Hannah.
Just thinking about that motherfucker’s search history has the hair at the back of my neck standing on end, because if it’s anything to go by, this marriage is a foregone conclusion already.
A lot of the shit he searched was standard, like how long does it take to get a marriage license and real estate outside the city with enough bedrooms for all the kids he plans to impregnate his future wife with.
But it took a turn when he started researching how to render birth control ineffective and looking into “wife trainers” on the dark web.
If you’re wondering if that is exactly what it sounds like, it is.
He doesn’t want a wife with fire. He wants a subservient woman who will birth him a litter of boys and that he’ll cheat on relentlessly, and that woman is not going to be my Hannah.
I was out the door before I could read anything further, and that’s probably for the best.
If there were more of the same there, I’d probably have already kidnapped this asshole and had him strung up at the warehouse.
Hannah’s face twists with disgust at something Trent said, and my chest tightens.
My girl is polite to a fault. She never raises her voice, she has never sent the wrong meal back at a restaurant, and she goes out of her way to be kind to everyone, even those who have been cruel to her.
So whatever it is that he just said must have been bad.
She carefully folds her napkin and places it on the table before pushing herself to her feet.
Is she walking out on dinner?
Fuck, I’m proud of her.
She’s always hated disappointing others, which is probably how she found herself sitting at that table in the first place, but she’s standing her ground.
Good girl.
Someone has earned themselves a reward when she’s finally ours.
Hannah says something before turning on her heel to walk away, fury shining in her green eyes. God, there’s something about when she’s mad that gets me so fucking hard.
But she only gets a handful of steps away before he grasps her wrist, and by the way her body jerks back against him and her face twists with pain, he’s far from gentle.
I’m barely aware of the fact I’ve moved until I smell her sweet vanilla scent and she’s staring up at me with a mixture of surprise and hurt.
“Take your hands off her,” I bark, turning my glare on Trent.
“And who do you think you are?”
“I’m the one who will put you in the ground if you ever touch what doesn’t belong to you again.” I turn my attention to Hannah, who’s still staring at me like she’s seen a ghost, which I guess she kind of has. “Have you got everything you need?”
She nods once, tears gathering at the corners of her eyes as she tugs at Trent’s hold on her that only seems to have tightened.
“She’s not going anywhere. We’re finishing our meal, and then we’ll be spending the night together.”
Thunder cracks through my chest, tension bleeding into every muscle as I step forward until I’m towering over both of them. “Did I fail to make myself clear, Trent?” I spit his name out.
Surprise tugs at his brows at the sound of his name on my lips.
“There are many people in this city who do not take kindly to people harming women, and I happen to have a few of them on speed dial,” I tell him calmly. “Kovu Black is a close friend.”
His eyes widen, and his hold on Hannah quickly falls away.
The Syndicate of the Legion may have stepped back from their role as the gatekeepers of the New York underworld, but that doesn’t mean they don’t carry the same notoriety they always have.
Hannah immediately steps forward, skirting around me until my body stands between her and the threat.
Trent glares at me, his hands fisted at his sides. “Your grandfather will not be happy about this little performance, Hannah.”
“She doesn’t give a fuck what that old fuck thinks,” I snap. “Have a nice evening, Trent.” The menace in my words doesn’t go over his head because the color drains from his face.
I turn around and gather Hannah under my arm, guiding her toward the front of the restaurant.
It’s not until we’re out on the street that she tries to pull away from me, but I’m not letting her go. She’s coming home with me tonight, and that’s where she’ll be staying until further notice.
“Rowan,” she huffs. “My driver is parked around the corner.”
“That’s nice.” I steer her in the opposite direction to where I haphazardly parked my car.
“I don’t need you to take me home,” she snaps. “I don’t need anything from you.”
I chuckle but don’t bother responding. It’s better I get her in the car before I drop the bomb of her change of address.
We reach the sleek black sports car, and her brows lift in question.
“A gift to myself after I divorced your mother,” I tell her. And god did I need it after the hoops old man Malone made me jump through despite our contract.
Hannah opens her mouth to respond, but I cut her off by opening the passenger door, gesturing for her to get in.
“I don’t need a ride.”
“I don’t care. You either get in the car yourself or I’ll put you in the car.”
“You wouldn’t.”
“Wouldn’t I?” I quirk a brow.
I’m not the same man I was when she knew me before. Years of watching from the sidelines of her life have hardened me. Plus, I don’t have to walk on eggshells anymore. I don’t have to skirt around my feelings for her because of a misplaced obligation to her family.
Defiance flashes through her eyes, but instead of arguing like I expect, she sighs and slips past me, lowering herself into the car gracefully.
I bend and clip the seat belt into place, my need to take care of her every need tugging at me. She deserves to be treated like a princess, especially after how that motherfucker inside treated her.
“I can do that myself.” She pushes against my arms, but it’s halfhearted. She doesn’t want my hands off her even half as much as she’d like me to believe.
“I know, but I want to do it for you.”
She stares at me for long seconds, her breath whispering across my cheek and taking me right back to the other night at the Scarlet Lounge.
I’m desperate to taste her, to claim her as myself and not just the stranger in the mask. But it’s not the time. Not while we’re open and vulnerable like this.
Before I can do something she’s not ready for, I straighten and close the door. I do a quick sweep of the street before tugging my phone from my pocket.
Rowan: Change of plan. Hannah is moving in tonight.
Asher: What happened?
Rowan: No time to explain. Go to her apartment and pack some things for her.
Asher: You mean the whole house worth of shit you’ve bought her won’t do for a night?
Rowan: I want her to be comfortable, asshole. Just hurry up and get to the estate.
I shove my phone into my pocket and slip into the driver’s seat.
Hannah watches me for long minutes as I pull away from the curb and head toward the house, but it’s not until we hit the bridge that she realizes I’m not taking her back to her apartment.
“Rowan? Where are we going?”
“Home.”
“But my home is in the other direction.”
“Not anymore, it’s not.”
Her eyes burn into the side of my face as she tries to process what I’ve just said. “I don’t understand,” she whispers. “I haven’t seen you in years.”
I sigh, glancing into the rearview mirror to ensure we’re not being followed before flicking a look across the car. “No, Hannah. You haven’t seen me. But I’ve seen you plenty.”