10. Zayn
CHAPTER 10
ZAYN
I waited until I heard the slam of the door and saw her hurrying down the stairs. Shaking my head as I leaned back in my chair, I let out a quiet laugh.
Fuck, she was something else.
Watching her pretend she wasn’t affected, like I hadn’t gotten under her skin—for whatever reason—and the way she stormed out had been amusing. The way her pulse jumped beneath my fingers when I touched her throat, yeah, Isla Wells was a shit liar. I affected her, and there was no denying she felt it.
And that was the most entertaining part of all.
I scanned the monitors, switched the lower row on, and brought the lower club level to life. Both clubs were busy, and warm satisfaction spread through my chest. It wasn’t just seeing how successful my business was.
It was her.
Isla had walked into my office with determination in her veins, demanding terms, thinking she could set the rules. But when it came down to it, she’d done what I wanted. She had no choice.
I knew she would hate that.
And I fucking loved it.
The office door opened, and Rye walked in, closing the door behind him. He crossed his arms as he appraised me, seeing the smile I was no longer hiding. “She’s gone. She’s not happy,” he said with amusement. “I take it you got what you wanted?”
“When do I not?”
“After my whole speech, you’re really going to let her host that gala here?”
Ah, he was pissed. Whatever. “Did I say no?”
Rye’s brows lifted. “No, but I did.”
I looked my friend over, then leaned back, my hands behind my head as I appraised him. “She’ll get her one event. Here.”
He looked away in frustration. “Why?”
“Because when Gracemont’s elite society tells their friends that Elixir was the best venue and best event they’ve ever had and they go to Isla with their demands for their event to be here, she won’t be able to deliver. Because it’s a onetime deal.”
“It’s basically free advertising?” Rye asked, his tone knowing as he finally saw the big picture.
I inhaled deeply, relishing the fact I had her exactly where I wanted her. “The best kind of advertising is word of mouth.” I thought fleetingly of Isla’s mouth, and the low heat in my veins spiked at the image of her on her knees with those luscious lips of hers wrapped around my cock.
Rye huffed out a laugh. “She’s going to hate that even more.” He gave me an appreciative glance.
Yeah. She would.
And that was half the fun.
I stood, stretching the tension from my shoulders, pushing the idea of Isla on her knees from my head. Rye watched me carefully, knowing me too well.
“She’s not like the rest of them,” he warned me quietly. “You sure you want to get mixed up with her?”
I knew Isla wasn’t like the other women I got involved with. She didn’t play games like this. She was calculated, controlled. But control was a fragile thing, and I’d seen her start to lose hers.
The way her breath hitched. The way her eyes lingered. The way she had run…
Rye saw I wasn’t listening and tried another tactic. “Julian won’t like it.” The look I gave him made him grin in defeat. “I hope you know what you’re doing, man. Fucking with her is one thing. Fucking her is a whole different ball game.”
“She’ll be fine.”
Rye didn’t look convinced, but he didn’t push. He knew better than to question me when I had my sights set on something.
Or someone.
Shaking his head, he turned to leave, hesitating at the door. “She’s trouble.”
I exhaled a quiet laugh, and I heard his groan as he opened the door.
Yeah, she was.
But trouble?
Trouble was exactly what I liked.
The door clicked shut behind Rye, leaving me alone in the quiet hum of my office. My thoughts were on the woman who had just practically run down this corridor. She was a challenge; I liked a challenge.
And Isla wasn’t a woman who played games she didn’t think she could win.
I walked over to the small bar, which I kept hidden, not for any other reason than I didn’t want the aesthetic of my office to be messed up. Pouring myself a whiskey, I took a sip. The warm burn was smooth on my tongue, but my mind was sharper, wired from the storm Isla had left in her wake.
Letting out a slow breath, I went back to my desk, my eyes on the screens of the heart of Elixir.
From here, I could see everything—the pulse of the club, the movement, the money, and the power. The main floor was packed, bodies swaying to the deep bass, the customers leaning close to each other to be heard, the security team moving silently amongst them, their gazes watchful, the lights highlighting the controlled chaos. They came here for indulgence, for distraction, for something they couldn’t find anywhere else.
The lower level was equally busy. Less crowded, but the booths were full. I studied the clientele for tonight, seeing some playing cards, and some were in the middle of deals with money being exchanged and hushed conversations that shouldn’t be overheard, whispered behind hands. I spotted a familiar face—a town official, his fingers wrapped around a glass of bourbon, deep in discussion with someone I knew damn well he shouldn’t be in conversation with.
I watched with interest as the very essence of Elixir played out in front of me. Deals were being made here, and Isla Wells had just walked herself into one.
My phone vibrated, and I picked it up, seeing her name.
Your venue. Gala saved.
…payment to be made at a later date.
I grinned widely. She had taken the deal. Begrudgingly, sure, but she had taken it. And whether she liked it or not, Isla owed me.
The thought was satisfying. Very satisfying.
I rubbed my jaw, reading her two messages again. This wasn’t just about the favor she owed me. She wasn’t just a business deal. No, this was something else entirely.
She’d spent weeks trying to outmaneuver me, my business, trying to build something that could compete with me. And failed. I’d told Rye to let her do her worst, and she had tried. Would The Grand be everything she wanted it to be? Yes, probably.
But she still had to come to me.
Her credibility was lessened. I knew how much that gala meant to her; Julian had mentioned it, never knowing what he was revealing.
I liked a challenge. Everyone who knew me knew it. Her efforts to show me that she didn’t need me were commendable. I was content to let it go. I had meant every word I said to Rye. Isla wasn’t playing on the same field as Elixir.
But the gala? I knew precisely who Lyndsay Shaw was. I knew exactly what her gala being held in Elixir would mean. I glanced at the screens. Some would say I had enough. Some would say I should have let Isla have her victory.
The holdups with the suppliers? No matter what she thought, they weren’t because of me, and because of that, how quickly things changed. I’d been handed a golden opportunity, and I would have been a fool to ignore it.
I was no fool.
A knock at the door pulled me from my thoughts. Looking at the monitor, I saw one of my security guys outside, and I pressed the buzzer on my desk to let the door unlock.
“Jayden.” He was a hulk of a guy. I’m pretty sure his blood was pure protein shake, but he dealt with things with a careful hand and was loyal, discreet, and, most of all, trustworthy.
“Hey, you’re needed downstairs,” he said, voice even. “Rye said there’s someone who’s asking questions they shouldn’t be.”
We shared a look, and Jayden grinned.
“Rye sent for me?” I asked as I picked up my suit jacket from the back of my chair, knowing what this meant. Some idiot thinking they were owed information. “He couldn’t handle it?”
Jayden hesitated, which told me the problem wasn’t the person asking questions. “He said he thought the situation needed your lighter touch.”
Which meant Rye wanted to crack someone’s head open. I pocketed my phone, the open screen on Isla’s message. She thought she’d come in here, make her demands, and leave with no consequences. She had no idea.
“Let’s go.”
Jayden nodded and the two of us headed to the lower level. There was business to handle.
And then? Then I’d decide what exactly Isla would owe me.
I adjusted my cuffs as I made my way downstairs, my footsteps controlled. Unhurried. If you walked like you owned the place, people believed you did.
And in here, I owned everything.
The lower level of Elixir was full, and I saw Rye waiting for me near the back of the lounge. His stance was relaxed, but his expression was tight. He didn’t shift when I approached, and he didn’t glance away from the table in front of him. That told me everything I needed to know—this was the problem.
I followed his gaze and found a man sitting in a low-backed chair. Dressed in a navy suit that was trying too hard to look expensive, he looked like someone who wanted to belong here, but it was clear he didn’t understand the rules.
Amateur.
Across from him sat Angelo, one of my regulars—Italian, ruthless, and the kind of man you didn’t piss off unless you had a death wish. Angelo’s fingers drummed absently against the armrest of his chair, his attention fixed on the man across from him like he was deciding whether to be amused or offended.
That definitely wasn’t a game you wanted to play.
I let the steady hum of conversation around me fade into the background as I stepped up behind Angelo’s chair, resting my hand on the back of it. The tension between the two of them was coiled tight, and I felt Rye and Jayden move closer, the other tables slowing their conversations, sensing the shift in the atmosphere.
The man in the suit swallowed thickly when he realized I was watching him.
I smiled, slow and easy. Friendly. “You have a problem.”
I didn’t ask if there was a problem. I told him he had one. A fact he didn’t miss.
I watched his Adam’s apple bob as he cleared his throat. “I—” He cleared his throat again. “I was having a conversation, that’s all.”
“You were asking questions?” I guessed, not bothering to look at Angelo.
“Just a few,” he confirmed.
“Just a few,” I echoed, keeping my voice casual.
He hesitated, then nodded. “I was…I was just curious about some things.”
Angelo chuckled, low and sharp. “Curiosity…dangerous in a place like this.”
I smiled wider. No fucking shit, especially when you were asking it of the mob’s fucking enforcer. This was a hairbreadth from going left fast. I maintained my calm, cool demeanor, never breaking my gaze from Navy Suit. “And you?” I asked him, watching him squirm. “Are you dangerous?”
His lips parted and then snapped shut. Like he had gone to say yes, then thought the answer might get him killed. He looked around at the men who were now surrounding his table. Rye to his left, Jayden behind him, blocking his exit. Me to the right of the man across from him.
He was wise to think about his answer. “No,” he said slowly. “I don’t think I am.”
I hummed a confirmation, too low to be heard by anyone but Angelo. I stepped back from his chair, my movements measured.
“I don’t know you,” I told him, my voice calm. “I do know you don’t belong here, and yet here you are, asking questions of my guests.”
“I—” His hands flexed against his knees. “I was just?—”
“Leaving,” I finished for him.
But Angelo spoke at the same time. “Looking for something.”
The silence was the only confirmation I needed. Shit . I had a town official at the bar. I didn’t need this in here tonight.
“You been here before?” I asked him.
He shook his head.
My eyes flicked to Rye’s, and the unspoken question of how the fuck did he get in flashed between us.
“So you’re new here.” I saw Jayden tense, already looking over his shoulder at the security at the door. There would be more questions of them later. “I’ll explain this real quick,” I carried on. “You don’t ask questions in my club. You don’t ask my customers questions. You don’t come in here unless you’re invited. And you sure as shit don’t sit across from Angelo Rana and act like you have any leverage.”
The man was pale, but he was determined. Or stupid. “I wasn’t asking him anything he doesn’t know the answer to?—”
Definitely stupid.
My loud sigh as I shook my head, pinching the bridge of my nose as I watched him, cut him off. “Do you know what happens to the people who don’t follow the rules here?”
He stilled. His eyes darted around him to my companions.
“They leave,” I said quietly. “One way or another.”
His chair scraped back as he tried to move away, but Jayden moved forward, resting a heavy hand on Navy Suit’s shoulder.
“I think we’re past the part where you run,” Jayden said. His tone was friendly, but his intentions were not.
Navy Suit’s breathing was coming faster now. Panic was seeping in. Finally.
I let the moment stretch, let the weight of the situation settle in. I picked a nonexistent piece of lint off my cuff.
“Who sent you?” I asked him when I made eye contact again.
His eyes darted around the room, looking for an escape that didn’t exist. He knew lying wouldn’t save him.
“Mercutio.”
Jayden looked at me, his eyes widening slightly, and Angelo laughed. Of course.
Mercutio was a low-level nuisance, a man who liked to believe he had power but didn’t understand how the real game was played. He used to be a regular in my clubs in Chicago until I denied him entry. I got fed up with picking his blood and teeth out of my carpets when his negotiations with his counterparts went sideways.
Now, it seemed he was sending green idiots to Elixir to make his trouble for him.
I rolled my shoulders, letting the frustration slide away. Mercutio wasn’t my problem—not yet. But I would need to remind him exactly what happened when he tried to mess with my business.
I lifted my gaze from Navy Suit to Jayden. “He’s done here.”
Jayden nodded, gripping the man’s shoulder tighter before hauling him to his feet. “Time to go, buddy.”
“Wait—” He tried to twist out of Jayden’s grip, which I could have told him was futile. “I wasn’t even talking to you?—”
Jayden didn’t let him finish. He dragged him towards the exit, ignoring the stares of the customers watching. I stepped into Angelo’s line of sight, and he was looking at me with amusement.
“You spoil all the fun.” He tsked slightly.
“I’m trying to keep blood off the newly polished floor,” I told him amicably. He smiled as he took a drink. “Mercutio knows better than this,” I mused. “This was sloppy.”
Angelo grunted, swirling his drink. “He was always sloppy.”
I nodded thoughtfully. “Is it time to remind him why that’s a problem?”
Angelo lifted his glass in a silent toast. “It is.”
I ran my tongue over my teeth. “Not here, though.”
“You need to send your own reminder,” Angelo cautioned. “He insults you with this as much as me.”
I nodded, my attention turning towards the bar, already shifting gears, meeting the curious stare of the town official who had watched it all.
“He does,” I murmured. Rye came to stand beside me, smoothly slipping into conversation with Angelo.
Much like Isla, Mercutio was about to learn what happened when you played where you didn’t belong.