33. Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Three
Valentin
Valentin glared at Xan as the guard gathered money from the safe and slipped it into a locked bag.
“Hey, sorry for disturbing your peace, but if the staff are gonna get paid, this cash has to make it to the bank.”
“I never said you couldn’t take the money, but did it need to be now? I told you I didn’t want to be disturbed.”
“Why not?” Xan sat down on the opposite side of the desk. Even though the club wouldn’t open for two hours, he already had his dark suit and security badge on. “You’re not busy up here. You’re doing the same thing you’ve done for the past eight days. Sulking.”
“Watch it.”
“Just calling it like I see it, boss.” Xan crossed his arms over his chest. “And from my bird’s-eye, you’ve been grumpy since that night, so you better just call those betas again.”
Valentin’s jaw ticked. “I can’t.”
“You can.”
“No. You know it’s complicated for me right now.” Valentin leaned back in his chair, folding his hands in his lap. “I can’t give Bergam anything he can use for leverage.”
“Bergam’s been quiet for months. Maybe he accepted reality.”
Valentin shook his head. He was confident the little dipshit would give up eventually, but not without more of a fight. A fight he planned to make sure Assa and Wes were not in the middle of.
“You’ve got the cash. You can go now.” Valentin waved at the door. “Next time, call me on the walkie if you need to visit up here.” He stood and observed the empty dance floor.
Xan refused to be so easily dismissed. “Look, I realize I’ve only known you a few years, but I like to think we’re friends.”
Valentin stared at him.
“And as your friend, I’m giving you permission to be happy. Call the betas. Get laid.”
Valentin frowned. “It wasn’t about getting laid. If it were just that, I probably would have texted already.”
Xan’s eyes danced. “You like them.”
As his breath fogged the glass, Valentin said nothing.
“It’s okay to like someone. Or two someones. Especially since they were obviously into it. And you seemed different the next day. More relaxed.”
Valentin grunted. The day after he’d been with Assa and Wes, he had been more relaxed. Right until he realized that pursuing anything further with them was impossible.
“I can’t call them. Not with Bergam hanging over my head.”
“Well, I think you’re being overly cautious, but if you’re really not interested, maybe you can give them my number.” Valentin growled and Xan laughed. “Proving my point, bud… Seriously, shoot them a text, tell them you’re thinking about them. At least then you’ve left the door open.”
“I’ll consider it.”
“Consider hard. Because we’d all appreciate it if you stopped acting like someone kicked Decoy.”
Xan left as the feline strutted into the office as though summoned, winding his body against Valentin’s calves.
After jumping onto his perch in front of the window, the cat assessed the scene below. Someone had switched on the cracked heart sculpture and the pink neon reflected vividly in Decoy’s eyes.
Valentin scratched his pet’s head, thankful that he still had this one meaningful connection to Zeller.
The poor cat had no idea how many memories he inspired in Valentin.
The times before Zeller’s heat, when they were happy and falling in love.
Also, the day two years ago when Antoni found him.
Antoni had hoped Decoy’s presence might ease the blow when he delivered the worst possible news—Zeller was gone.
He’d vanished immediately after his twenty-fifth birthday.
Their baby had never been born.
Valentin had stayed in Warburton Province only long enough to confirm both pieces of information before taking the butler’s advice to get as far away from the Parkensons as possible.
That was how he’d arrived in Bellwether Province with only the clothes he wore, the small sum of cash Antoni had given him, the fresh tattoo on his shoulder, and Decoy.
And his memories.
He meant what he’d said to Xan. A big part of why he hadn’t called Wes and Assa was because of Bergam.
Ang’s son could be dangerous, even if he was a buffoon.
But also, Valentin still loved Zeller. Allowing himself to be happy with anyone else felt like a betrayal.
Once the club began making more money and he could afford to be away, he planned to look for Zeller. And confront the Parkensons.
Valentin rolled up his sleeves and headed downstairs, locking Decoy in the office. The cat was well known to regular patrons, notorious for escaping onto the dance floor. Valentin supposed he could leave Decoy at his condo while he worked, but he enjoyed having him nearby.
Xan’s security team—a bouncer, two uniformed guards, and another man who spent his nights undercover in the crowd—was already on duty, along with the rest of the staff. There had been a lot of deliveries that morning, and with Bergam still a threat, Valentin and Xan wanted to be extra cautious.
Everything seemed in order for when the doors would open in an hour. It was another Beta Night, so they were expecting a large weeknight crowd.
Xan and his crew went into the downstairs room where laptops displayed the camera feeds from around the club. Bartenders took down chairs. The young beta who operated the lights and music smiled at Valentin as he switched on the sound system.
Valentin retrieved the till for the one station that accepted cash, locking it into place in the old-fashioned register.
After using his laptop to update the sales portals for the night, he activated the electronic tip jars.
He had vastly improved the club’s money-handling procedures over the past year, reminding him of another reason he shouldn’t worry about having a personal life.
His focus had to be on the club. The Cracked Heart was his best chance to make something of himself.
And he wasn’t going to let Bergam fuck it up.
A clanking noise sounded from the small ice maker beneath the bar.
Valentin hmphed. This happened at least once a week.
A piece of the fan inside the machine got loose and had to be snapped back into place.
Luckily, the fix was easy enough. After grabbing a wrench from the office, Valentin squatted until he could slip his arm underneath and adjust the fan.
He had to twist to keep a hand on the counter so he wouldn’t fall over onto the floor.
It was an awkward position, and that was why he saw something he would not have seen otherwise.
In the open shelving where they kept the top-tier liquor, a flash of silver behind the bourbon caught his eye. After adjusting the ice maker, Valentin pushed aside the bottles and noticed a package that had been duct-taped to the back of the shelf.
The package was small, about the size of two paperbacks. It was wrapped in brown paper. If Valentin hadn’t been low to the ground directly in front of it, he never would have spotted it. No one would have, especially taped up behind the expensive bourbon.
Tamping down his initial instinct to pull it off the shelf, Valentin found Xan in the security room. He did his best not to draw attention as he motioned for the guard to follow him.
Pointing at the package, he asked, “Any idea what this is?”
Xan studied it carefully. “It’s not making noise, and I don’t see anything electrical. I’d assume it’s safe to touch. Unless you’d rather call the police?”
Valentin made a face. “That’s a last resort for me.” He’d never gone into the specifics of what happened in Warburton, but Xan knew he’d been to prison and didn’t question his stance on police.
“What do you want to do, then?”
“It’s a suspicious package hidden in my bar. I sincerely doubt this is anything good.”
“We’re on the same page, I assume?”
“Bergam.”
“Yep.”
Xan reached for the shelf. “I don’t think he’d obliterate his father’s old place. I’m taking my chances.”
“Wait.”
Valentin stood and called out, “Hey everyone, can you please go outside for a few minutes. I thought I smelled gas earlier, so Xan and I are going to check it out.”
“Good call,” Xan said under his breath.
“I don’t know what’s going on. But it’s better if no one sees whatever this is. There’s always the chance one of the staff is on Bergam’s payroll.”
Xan narrowed his eyes. “I ran everyone’s background checks myself.”
“Still.”
“You and your fucking trust issues.”
Once they were alone in the large space, Xan pulled the package off the shelf while Valentin re-situated the liquor.
“It’s squishy,” Xan said, tossing it to Valentin. “My guess is drugs.”
“Same.” Valentin pressed his thumbs into it.
“He’s trying to set you up.”
“Looks like.”
Valentin placed it on the bar and unwrapped a brick of what he assumed to be cocaine. He gave the ice machine a pat. “Flush it,” he said to Xan. “I’ll tell everyone it’s okay to come back in.”
Xan walked the package to the stairwell. “I’ll use your private bathroom.”
“Bleach it afterwards.”
“On it. And I’ll go through the camera footage when I’m done.”
“There were a lot of deliveries today. I bet that’s how someone got in.”
Valentin’s hunch was correct. Within ten minutes of checking the footage, Xan found the two minutes from the nine o’clock hour where a delivery person distracted the bartender while another man got out of an unmarked vehicle in the alleyway, snuck in, and planted the package.
Since Valentin refused to involve the police, they’d likely never figure out the culprit’s identity.
But it didn’t matter. The real problem was Bergam. Not his goons.
Xan told his team what had happened, and they searched the building for more packages, finding none.
He and Valentin decided not to alert the non-security staff until they’d confirmed that no one had conspired with Bergam.
The club opened on time, and other than the discreet hypervigilance of the security guards—who expected a raid—the evening progressed as usual.