32. Isla
CHAPTER 32
ISLA
They were still here.
I watched them from my tablet. They didn’t touch their drinks. Their weight suffocated me even though they couldn’t see me. Mikhail stood beside me, an immovable force anchored between the VIP booths.
The birthday party had spilled out of their booths in a mad attempt to get the princess into the sports booths, Mikhail had taken one step forward, and I’d never seen a group of people move so fast out of someone’s way.
The tension in my shoulders had settled into a dull ache. Mikhail had looked at the four guys, screwed his face up, and muttered one word with disgust.
“Cops.”
He then explained that it was common for the cops to come in and check out the place. They were on official duty, and the front security couldn’t keep them out, so I was the only one who panicked, which is probably why Rye never replied.
The new problem we seemed to face was the three guys who walked in shortly after the cops. They looked like they belonged here, but Mikhail had been on his comms to Jayden so quickly that I hadn’t had time to react.
I hated myself for it. After spending so long living in fear of what being with Zayn might cost me, tonight I was done flinching. I was completely done waiting for someone else to handle the problem.
“Why are they here?” I asked Mikhail quietly as he watched the tablet with me.
“To see what happens,” he said with a grunt. “And we can do fuck all with four cops in the place.”
“And how did they get in?” I asked, looking up at him, a little taken aback by his anger.
“It’s a question I’ll be asking Jayden, ma’am.”
I nodded. “Okay, well, we can’t be hiding up here.” I looked him up and down; he was so big. “Not that you could hide,” I said with a smile. “Let’s bring two more guys up here and I’ll talk to the servers for the princess and cut their drinks off slowly. Then you and me are going down to have a chat with these guys.”
“The cops are here,” Mikhail quickly reminded me.
“And I said talk ,” I reminded him before I dipped into the VIP booth and had a quick word with the servers, who were only too happy to be told to be less efficient with the fulfillment of orders.
Two more security guards took my place, and Mikhail and I went down the stairs to the main floor. If they wanted to test me, I would show them exactly who the hell I was.
I moved toward them slowly. Deliberately. The rest of the birthday party danced around me, oblivious, but I saw a few heads turn as I crossed the floor—bar staff, servers, and even a few security guards glanced up, but no one stepped in.
Because this was my call.
The man sitting closest to the edge shifted as I approached, his eyes dragging up the length of me like I was something to buy or break.
Did they think that would intimidate me?
I stepped right up to their table and smiled politely—not sweetly. “Gentlemen,” I said. “This is a private party tonight. You’re not invited.”
The one in the middle—broad shoulders, short hair, bored expression—leaned forward. “We’re invited.”
His voice was smooth, practiced. Meant to intimidate.
I didn’t blink. “Then can you show me the invite and your wrist?”
He raised an eyebrow. “You the hostess?”
I smiled wider. “I’m the one asking to see your invite and telling you that if you don’t show it it’s time to go.”
That got a reaction. A little silence. A twitch of a smirk.
The third one spoke. “Didn’t realize McCabe let his woman run the show.”
My heartbeat raced. I leaned in, my voice low enough that only they heard. “He trusts me to handle things. That should worry you more than if he were here.”
Another beat of silence. The short-haired guy held my gaze for a long second—weighing me. Testing.
Then he leaned back and tapped the table once. The three of them stood.
The one who’d spoken to me leaned close as he passed, his breath warm against my temple. “You’ve got teeth, sweetheart. Hope you bite the right throat.”
I didn’t flinch. Didn’t look back. Mikhail had three guys walk them out but stayed by my side. I waited until they disappeared into the crowd before I let out a slow, silent breath.
I turned to look up at him. “Go find out who let them in. Relieve him of his post. ”
“Yes, ma’am.”
I walked back to the bar, stepped behind it, and took the bottle of water James handed me wordlessly as I met the gaze of one of the cops while taking a drink. He didn’t react; he just watched. I maintained eye contact, observing until he and his buddies got up and left the club. Letting out a sigh, I felt I was back in control, back in my skin.
Zayn’s name had gotten me halfway. The rest? That had been all me. I didn’t shake until I was alone.
In the staff bathrooms behind the bar, one of the light bulbs flickered overhead like it was as unsettled as I felt. I braced my palms on the cool tile of the wall, counting my breaths in and out.
One. Two. Three. Four.
They’d left. I’d made them leave. But that wasn’t what stuck with me. It was what he’d said.
Hope you bite the right throat.
I hated that it rattled me. Hated the way his voice clung to my skin like smoke. But even more, I hated the part of me that understood what he meant.
This wasn’t a game.
This wasn’t a world where threats came with warning labels or polite invitations. I wasn’t on the edge anymore, looking in . I was already in.
And if I wanted to stay by Zayn’s side, I needed to carry my weight—not just emotionally, not just in bed, not just at the club— everywhere .
No illusions. No safety nets. I closed my eyes and straightened up. My hands were steady as I checked my makeup even if my heart hadn’t caught up yet. I made my way back to the VIP booths. It was quieter here, muting the pulse of the club beyond, with each booth soundproofed, and I thanked God that they were .
I leaned against the wall, pulled out my phone, and stared at the screen. He hadn’t texted. I didn’t expect him to. Rye hadn’t either, however, I knew they were dealing with more than just a few routine cops and some guys with more swagger than substance. Nonetheless, I needed to tell Zayn what happened—not to alarm him but to inform him.
Because that’s what partners did. I typed quickly.
Four unknowns came in tonight. They were in suits, clean and watching me more than the club. Mikhail informed me that they were cops. Three guys came after them. They were NOT cops. I handled it. Security has instructions not to let them back in. Just keeping you updated.
I stared at it for a moment, then hit send before I could second-guess myself.
Not “I’m scared.” Not “Come fix it.” Just information. If he wanted me in this world, I’d learn how to stand in it. And if he didn’t… Then I’d walk away with my spine straight and my eyes open. The phone buzzed a few minutes later.
Noted. You did good.
I stared at the screen. That was all. There was no demand to go home, no fear, no reprimand, just…trust. My shoulders relaxed slightly, the tension loosening. Good, this was what I wanted.
We’ll talk about your phone being off later
I stood straighter, a smile on my lips. There he was. Mr. Bossy. I left the restrooms and saw that Mikhail was back .
“Come on, big guy,” I said to Mikhail. “Let’s do the rounds.”
I stepped back into the flow of the club. There were still drinks to serve, guests to placate, music to manage, and a princess who would need to be carried home soon if she drank much more. I wasn’t done yet. But I’d just proved something to myself tonight, and it mattered more than Zayn’s approval.
I could survive here. On my own. Because I wasn’t alone anymore.
I knew it. I’d proven it to myself, and I was proud of myself. But…I also knew I didn’t want to do this night after night.
Later as I took control over the sobbing birthday girl who seemed to be that kind of drunk, I knew I would never complain about Gerard and his eccentric ways again. Elixir was thrilling, and I enjoyed it, but all the extra elements weren’t for me.
I led the birthday girl from the club to the car waiting for her, Mikhail at my back. When I turned to go back into Elixir, two policemen and another plainclothes male were at the door.
“Officers?” I saw the stone faces of the security guards on the door and knew that if I looked up at Mikhail, he would look the same. “Can I help you?” I walked towards them, calm and collected while inside my nerves tingled.
“Ms. Wells, I’m Detective Hill. Can we talk inside?”
I didn’t react to the fact that they knew me. There was no reason for the local officers in Gracemont to know me. I felt relieved when I saw Jayden appear at the door. I flicked a glance at Jayden, who nodded slightly. “Of course, come with me.”
In reality, I followed Jayden while looking like I was the one who was taking them into the club. The noise engulfed us immediately, and I saw two of them wince as the music assaulted their ears. Jayden led us to a quiet pocket, the hall that led to the office upstairs, and I noted we were beside the storage cupboard I’d once been in with Zayn.
“What’s going on?” I asked the officers as I stood tall, flanked by Jayden and Mikhail.
“We’re looking for Zayn McCabe and Rye Nowak.” His words were clipped like he didn’t already know exactly where they were. “Are they on the premises?”
My heart thumped hard against my chest. They were off-site. Handling something that I didn’t know how long it would take. I didn’t know exactly what, and I didn’t want to know. But I knew this wasn’t just a casual check-in.
“Do they know what this is about?” I asked, careful to keep my tone neutral.
Two of them glanced at each other. “We can get a warrant to search the premises,” Detective Hill, the only one who had spoken, said.
“I don’t think there’s any need for that,” I told them with a smile.
One of the other officers smirked. “Let’s just say it’s not a social call. We need to speak with both of them immediately. Please step aside.”
I didn’t move.
Every instinct I had screamed stall. Just for five minutes. Ten. Enough time for Zayn to get back. For the world not to come crashing down around us.
I saw the look the detective gave the other guy, and I stalled.
“You don’t have a warrant?” I asked smoothly, folding my arms. “Don’t you need one? ”
Hill’s eyes narrowed. “Ms. Wells, don’t play games. We can get a warrant.”
I nodded, my eyes wide with surprise. “There were four of your colleagues in earlier. They never mentioned they were looking for Mr. McCabe or Mr. Nowak. In fact, they seemed to be quite content to enjoy the music.” I looked between them, feigning confusion. “So…I don’t understand why you’re here?”
The other officer stepped forward, clearly the type who enjoyed making people squirm. “We can walk through that club and start asking questions. You want that?”
My stomach turned. I couldn’t stop them. But I could buy time.
“You’re welcome to do that,” I said, gesturing toward the hallway. “Once you get a warrant and come back here.”
They exchanged a look. Suspicious. Calculating. One of them stepped away, bringing a phone to his ear.
“Can I get you some water? Coffee?” I asked, pretending to be unaffected.
“We’re not staying for brunch, Miss Wells.”
I gave the detective my most harmless, sweet-as-sin smile. “Suit yourself.”
They stood. And waited. And watched me. Every second ticked like thunder in my ears.
Detective Hill eventually ran out of patience. “We’ll be back with a warrant.”
I heard the footsteps coming from the side as Zayn walked down the stairs. Sharp suit. Cool gaze. Calm, like he had all the time in the world. And beside him was Rye.
Zayn’s eyes flicked across us all—saw me, saw the officers, saw the tension—and didn’t flinch. “Officers,” he said, his voice smooth as glass. “To what do we owe the pleasure? ”
The officers straightened. The talkative one was suddenly aware that this wasn’t a man you cornered easily.
Zayn looked over at me—not for information but for reassurance. His presence grounded me instantly. I exhaled the breath I didn’t know I was holding.
The king was back.
And the game had just changed.
Zayn looked at the three men. Casual. Unbothered. Dominant. “Well?”
Rye stayed near the door, his hands in his pockets, his gaze fixed on the three officers like he was already picturing all the ways this could go sideways.
“These officers are going to go and get a warrant.” I spoke up, letting the silence stretch, moving over beside him, needing to be close to him.
Zayn’s eyes flicked to mine before he held his hand out. “If this is about the noise complaint from last month, I can assure you we’ve upgraded our soundproofing.”
The main officer gave a tight smile. “That won’t be necessary, Mr. McCabe. This isn’t about your speakers.”
“Then by all means, enlighten me.”
“It’s a warrant to search the premises.” His eyes flicked to Rye at the door. “We’re here to bring you both in for questioning. In connection with an ongoing investigation.”
No mention of what. Smart. Vague. Just threatening enough to see if we’d crack.
I watched Zayn smile like they’d just told him he’d have to order off the menu because there were no more specials today. “You’ll need to be more specific,” Zayn said casually. “I need to know if I need my lawyer.”
Detective Hill’s jaw ticked. “We believe you were involved in a series of violent crimes that were committed tonight and ended with the death of Patrick Delaney. ”
My stomach dropped, and I felt sick. I stepped closer to Zayn.
“And this belief,” he asked, slowly crossing his arms, “is based on…?”
“We’ve received credible information.” The officer who didn’t like me jumped in. “Your name’s come up more than once.”
“Names tend to when people are jealous of the ones who’ve made it.”
The detective shifted again. “Mr. McCabe?—”
Zayn held up a hand. “I’ll come. But let me be clear—you’re not walking through my club, harassing my staff or my guests. If you want to play this out in front of an audience, think again. But if what you’re looking for is cooperation?” He gave them each a cold glare. “You’re getting it. Just not on your terms.”
Rye hadn’t moved. His glare had deepened if anything. He didn’t like this. Neither did I. But I was more worried that they’d played this game before.
Zayn turned to look at me. Solid. Steady. His hand brushed along the small of my back. “Everything’s fine,” he said lowly so only I could hear. “This won’t take long.”
I didn’t blink. I’d never seen someone get arrested before—especially not my boyfriend. Murder? I felt sick. He killed Delaney because he took me? I knew he had. I was also shockingly okay with that.
I turned to look at the officers. “You said tonight?” I asked them.
Detective Hill hesitated. “Yes.”
I let out a laugh, and the edge of hysteria wasn’t lost on anyone. “Good grief, you about gave me a heart attack!” I fanned my face. “Whoa, I need a drink. ”
Detective Hill exchanged a look with the grumpy one. “Ms. Wells?”
“I wish you’d just told me this outside. Zayn and Rye have been here all night,” I told them, and the detective looked disappointed as I lied.
“Ms. Wells, you are not the first girlfriend to try and give a false alibi?—”
“Excuse me?” My tone sharpened as I narrowed my eyes on the officer. “Are you calling me a liar? Zayn and Rye have been here all night.”
The third officer, who had never spoken, stepped forward. “We have reliable information that you’ve been the only person walking the floor tonight. McCabe and Nowak haven’t been seen except at a crime scene.”
“Who’s your reliable information?” I asked, folding my arms across my chest. “The four officers earlier who were here for what?” I turned to Mikhail. “Thirty minutes? Forty?”
“Thirty,” he said with a shrug. He looked at the three officers. “Boss has been here all night.”
Detective Hill sighed loudly. “Well, you can give your statements at the station, but right now, they’re coming with us.”
“Then we’re coming with you, too,” I said with determination. “Do you have room for the whole staff?” I looked between them, seeing their confusion. “What, you think we’re the only ones who saw them? We’ve had two events here today, and you think the owner or the club manager weren’t on-site ?” I asked incredulously.
“Isn’t that why you’re here?”
“I’m here because I’m an event planner ,” I told him, my voice steely. “Not event manager.”
“Isla helped us out,” Rye spoke for the first time. “This is her first time helping out, do you think she’d run Elixir by herself? On her first night?”
They didn’t reply. Just turned and looked at each other. Detective Hill leaned over and spoke to the others. He turned back and looked at Zayn, who was texting on his phone, and I saw the sign of defeat.
“Are you coming?” he asked Zayn, resigned to the fact that he probably wasn’t.
“Do I need to? I think my girl might bust my balls if I go…when I really don’t need to…” He grinned at them. “And my lawyer’s on her way, and she said don’t move.” Zayn looked at them thoughtfully. “Between my fiancée and my mom, you guys do seem the quieter option, false allegations aside.”
Rye snickered. The detective rolled his eyes. “We’ll wait here.”
Fiancée?
I pushed that away as I looked between the three officers. “Do you want that coffee now?”