Chapter 8
BEASTY
Remixed R&B music rolled out from the speakers.
The overhead lights synced to the beat, shifting into deep blue tones as they painted various dancers.
Cheri and Danielle strutted on stage, coy behind their feather masks.
The beat dropped under the haunting notes of the cello at the same time their neon whips cracked through the air.
Another room starting off with success. Perfect.
I headed toward the door, Sarah and two more security girls on my heels. It had taken some convincing, but Sarah wasn't let go. If Atlas had gotten his way, he would have shown her the door after we stepped foot back into the club, but that was his emotions speaking.
She hadn't done anything wrong. If nothing else, this was another example of how we could improve our security.
I pushed open the door, and Holly appeared.
"Jesus Christ." I jumped, pressing a hand to my chest as Sarah knocked me behind her with her gun already pulled. Somehow, the girls had figured out how to conceal their weapons when they wore practically nothing.
I needed Sarah to share her secrets with me. But later.
"Oh, sorry," Sarah murmured as she tucked the weapon back into her holster.
Holly stared wide-eyed, completely in shock at being met with a gun to the face.
"Holly. Sorry. After the other night, things are a little tense." I tried to give her a smile, but I was sure it was more of a grimace.
The door shut behind us, and I started walking to the next room.
The club had reopened, and it was as packed as it ever was.
Atlas had been watching the news reports and so far, there had been no leaks.
Earlier today, all the employees who might be aware something more than an electrical issue was to blame were reminded of the NDA they'd signed and all the leverage the boys held.
They should have had those conversations the night we went to the hospital, but I understood why they didn't. It felt...nice to know that they needed to be close to me and Kim.
Holly caught up to me, keeping step as I nodded to the attendants lining the walls.
"I was just coming to find you. All the rooms are off to a good start.
The dancers seem happy and there are no call outs.
From what I've overheard from patrons, they're practically salivating to be back here, both in the main clubs to be photographed, and in the invitation-only rooms." She lowered her voice.
"It's like they have an addiction to being one of the elite. "
I pulled a face. I didn't understand that, but if it was good business for the boys, it was good for me.
"Fantastic. I've checked all the rooms too. I'll go to the invitation only rooms and do a walk through—"
"Actually, that's part of the reason I came to find you." Holly glanced around. “One of the bouncers called, and there's a woman at the celebrity entrance trying to get in. Her name wasn't on the list and she wasn't in the facial recognition software, so I thought I'd come get you."
I stopped, a chill running down my arms. "Her name?"
"Valencia something. She wouldn't give them her ID, saying that she was well-known and it was an insult to even ask." Holly bit her bottom lip. "She had a pretty heavy Italian accent and she started cursing the bouncers in Italian."
Ice filled my stomach. Surely, Lake would have fed her face into the software. No matter what, it was still an issue that she was here. Had she even made bail? She would’ve had to if she was at the celebrity entrance.
"Where is she now?" I spun and started speed-walking toward that side of the club.
"She's in the spare room next to the bouncer's office. They stuck her in there until we knew what to do with her."
"I'll take care of it, thanks." I waved a hand. Holly dipped her head, then scrambled back down the hallway. I wasn't sure how much she understood of what went on here, but she seemed scarily perceptive to tension.
"Ma'am. If this woman is dangerous, we should call Mr. Jones." Sarah picked up a jog to keep up with my longer stride.
I pulled my phone out. "I'll let them know, but I'm still going to check this out." I sent them a quick text.
I didn't remember a lot about this woman, other than the fact that she was the worst of the entitled assholes I'd encountered from my short stint with the boys.
And she'd made Kim uncomfortable. I clenched my jaw.
No one got to make him feel that way.
But keeping the boys safe was my first priority. That had to take precedence over any revenge I wanted to dole out to cunts who couldn't keep their hands to themselves. But if she was here, what did that mean?
I slid my phone in my pocket, ignoring the almost immediate buzzing.
Picking up my pace, I pulled out ahead of Sarah and my other guards.
She cursed and started full-out running.
I hated making her do that, but I had to beat the boys there, otherwise, they might not let me see Valencia, if it was really her.
I wanted to look that bitch in the face.
We rounded the corner to the celebrity entrance. Jogging was hard in the loafers Kim had bought for me, but they weren't the worst thing I'd ever run in.
I skidded to a stop right outside the bouncer’s office. Huffing, I grabbed the sleeve of one of the security men coming out.
"Where is the woman?" I panted.
His eyes widened but other than that, he didn't show any sign that my red face and wind-blown hair was anything out of the ordinary. "In the spare.” He jerked his thumb over his shoulder.
"Thanks."
"Ms. Hart!" Sarah chastised, not even a little out of breath. "You need to wait until Mr. Jones gets here."
I turned. "Listen." She would have slammed into me if I hadn’t caught her shoulders. "Come with me. Protect me. I'm not telling you not to do your job, and the boys will be here any minute. But this woman, she's bad news, and I want to see why she's here."
Sarah mulled that over before giving me a reluctant nod. Pulling her gun back out of the holster, she pointed it at the floor and nodded to the door. "Lead the way."
"Thank you."
"Don't thank me yet. Just don't get us in trouble," she muttered.
I opened the door. This spare security room was bare, save one round table and two plastic chairs.
They weren't even pushed in neatly around the table.
It was nothing like the rest of the artfully decorated club.
If anything, it looked like an old conference room had thrown up in here.
To add to it, there were three crushed soda and energy drink cans haphazardly littering the table.
It clicked. The security men must use this room for breaks.
Valencia sat at the table, as regal as I’d expected this bitch to be.
I vaguely recognized her. She was tall and willowy, skinnier than I remembered. Her hair had a natural wave, though it looked like it needed a good washing two days ago. But the put together fashion designer from the news was nowhere to be seen.
Her wrinkles were on full display and she’d only worn the smallest amount of make-up to cover them up. No dramatic eye or lip in sight. Kim would be proud of me for even recognizing that.
She at least wore something expensive.
Meeting my gaze, she stopped her fidgeting and pushed up from the table. Dark circles ringed her eyes and her mouth pinched, creating more lines around her lips.
"Who are you?" she demanded in accented English.
It seemed her messed up state hadn't dulled her entitlement.
"A friend of the boys'. Who are you?" I asked. If I knew anything, it was that people like this needed to believe they were important. In just one question, I let Valencia know she wasn't.
She didn't matter, not here and certainly not in her world that she loved so much.
Scoffing, she turned her body to the side as if dismissing me. "I demand to speak to Isaac Kim and Atlas Jones."
"I'm sure they'll be here soon enough. Care to tell me why you came here? To the club of the man you tried to take advantage of?" I fisted my hands at my sides, unable to play games with her any longer.
Outrage clouded her features. "Taken advantage of!
Ridiculous! Mama mia, you little bitch. You have no idea who you're talking to. I am the most sought after designer in New York! No, the world!” Her hands flapped around her head and the loose skin hanging off her arms jiggled.
The woman was barely more than skin and bones.
I waited for her to calm down. Which was about a minute later when she realized I wasn’t reacting to her tantrum. “Why are you here?”
She glanced at Sarah, then back at me. As if defeated, she released a beleaguered sigh. “I need help. Isaac and Atlas owe me that after what their snake of a manager and bodyguard did to me!” She sneered. “I’m in this mess because of them! Don’t you know—”
The door opened and Joaquin and Atlas stepped in. They both looked as if they’d sucked on sour lemons as they gazed at Valencia.
This really must be her, but I knew that already. Sucking in a deep breath, I faced her again, more confident with two of my boys at my back.
I hated this woman. How could she ever think she had the right to touch Kim?
“What are you doing here, Valencia?” Atlas’ voice was frigid.
Puffing up her chest, she said, “You all owe me. After everything you made me do—”
“We never made you do anything,” Joaquin interjected with such quietly intense menace, I shivered. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Valencia’s mouth opened and closed multiple times. “What do you mean, you—”
“I’m sorry you made the trip here for nothing, Valencia,” Atlas said as he moved deeper into the room until he placed himself in front of me.
“But we didn’t leave the industry on good terms with you.
You were a bit too handsy with Kim for our liking and after our past, we don’t take kindly to anyone touching us in ways we don’t like. ”
There was silence on the other side. I wished I could see her face, but I had a sinking feeling that Atlas was pissed at me for coming in here.
“That is not what happened!” Valencia stamped her foot.
“Regardless of what you want to remember, it happened. You’re not welcome here. Security is outside this door, and we never want to see you again.” He reached behind him and cupped my elbow before turning and ushering me out the door. Joaquin held it open and Sarah had already slipped through.
I tried to glance over my shoulder, but Atlas covered any view I had of that disgusting woman.
Both he and Joaquin took an arm and led me to the office like I was a wayward child in trouble. My stomach soured as the uncomfortable feeling that I had done something wrong settled on my shoulders.
Once we were inside the office, Lake rose from his desk, bracing his knuckles on the hard surface.
“What were you thinking?” he asked calmly, quietly.
I fidgeted with my blouse, locking my gaze on his chin.
“I wanted to give that bitch a piece of my mind.” It was a weak answer but it was the truth.
“Did you consider that she might be wearing a wire for the police?”
My mouth dropped open. No, I hadn’t.
Lake nodded as he stood up straight. “I didn’t think so.
” Coming around the desk, he stopped when his toes touched mine.
“You’re pretty in these clothes Kim bought for you.
” He traced the collar of my blouse with his first two fingers.
“I’d hate to see you trade these in for orange if the cops somehow thought you were complicit in criminal activities. ”
I gasped. That was…Insulting and sweet. Offensive and caring. What a fucking asshole. I opened my mouth to give him a piece of my mind when Joaquin broke through the silence.
“I need a minute with Beasty.” He faced the monitors, his hands clasped tightly behind his back. His shoulders were taut and his voice had been just as rough.
I swallowed. Whatever he wanted to say couldn’t be good.