Chapter One #2
I thought maybe it was a coincidence that our gazes happened to meet, so I waited a beat and then two more, but he never looked away.
The VIP guest who had commandeered my brother’s club openly watched me as if he weren’t at all concerned over the repercussions of making me uneasy.
He studied me like one would a horse before they rode it.
Okay, it wasn’t the best analogy, but I didn’t know how else to describe the intent and possession in his eyes. A man who looked like that, who wore his obscene wealth like a second skin, and reeked of too much power certainly had his options.
Could a nobody like me truly be the focus of his attention?
I blinked away my tears to clear my blurry vision, and he seemed to finally notice them, though his calm expression didn’t change. He had no reason to care that I was upset. He merely found my tears fascinating.
It was unnerving the way he watched me because I couldn’t read his thoughts, and secretly I wanted him to love what he saw. I craved his approval, and that bothered the shit out of me, especially when I just swore off love forever.
I huffed my frustration when a full minute passed and he continued watching me as if I were both fascinating to him yet still too unremarkable to act on it.
What the fuck was his problem?
I silently communicated with my eyes that I wasn’t in the mood and that he should fuck right off.
Finally, the relaxed expression on his handsome face shifted, and the slow smile he unleashed on me at my attitude was indulgent—as if he found my anger cute.
Unwillingly, my frown melted away while confusion and desire prickled my flushed skin.
I thought maybe his smile was an invitation—not that I’d accept it—until he suddenly looked away, dismissing me to address the scowling man standing over his shoulder.
They whispered back and forth, and it seemed the mystery man had forgotten all about me, until the grump he was speaking to suddenly flicked his gaze in my direction, then looked away and nodded at whatever Mr. VIP was saying.
I knew without a shred of doubt that they were discussing me.
In what detail and to what end, I didn’t know.
But I did care—enough to consider going over there and asking him what was so fucking funny. I fantasized about slapping him toon, but that thought was swiftly swept away when the bodyguard straightened, and I caught sight of the gun resting on his waist.
Weapons weren’t allowed in my brother’s club.
The man he was guarding must have had some serious pull if my arrogant brother bent the rules for him.
That’s when I finally took a real good look at my surroundings for the first time and noticed everything amiss.
Among the droves of scantily-clad women were the obvious bodyguards.
The ones who resembled Secret Service agents in their suits and neutral, non-threatening stances that weren’t fooling anyone.
And then there were the ones you weren’t supposed to see…
The true muscle, who at first glance blended with the other club goers.
It was their constant vigilance and quiet menace that gave them away, and I counted at least thirty sprinkled around the club.
They lingered around the exits, watching everyone who came and went.
They inserted themselves onto the dance floor below, standing like immovable pillars amongst the writhing bodies.
They were even posted at both bars, but they didn’t order drinks or converse with anyone.
Even the sections were occupied by the secret assassins.
Anyone stupid enough to try the man sitting at the other end of the bar wouldn’t see the trap until it was too late.
When the hidden guards weren’t scanning the building for threats, their focus gravitated like a magnet toward the mystery man whose lure was unrivaled and the scowling man standing over his shoulder, who I concluded must command them.
It was possible I had it all wrong, though.
Either these men were here with Mr. VIP, or they were here for him.
Feeling like I’d fallen into a snake pit, I didn’t think twice before I eased to my feet with my heart in my throat.
I quickly threw down some cash to cover my tab before I eased away from the bar.
I was hoping my departure went unnoticed, but when I greedily stole one last look, I found him watching me again.
He didn’t look amused or relaxed anymore.
His body was coiled tight, and the emotion coming from him wrapped itself around my throat like an invisible collar. He looked like he wanted to give chase but was fighting himself. I didn’t want to be here when he decided, so I severed the connection and quickened my steps toward the stairs.
This time, I didn’t look back as I fled the club.
It wasn’t until I was safely in my car and heading back to my apartment, where I knew Hunter was waiting for me, that I started to feel a little silly for running. He was probably just a celebrity or some crypto bro who hired all that muscle to feel important.
Shaking my head, I parked my car once I reached home and then tiptoed inside the dark apartment that I shared with my best friend.
I didn’t let myself breathe until I spotted Hunter lying on the couch.
She was fast asleep with her cell phone clutched in her hand.
I didn’t even think about it as I grabbed the blanket tossed over the back of the couch and covered her with it.
When she didn’t stir, I let myself watch her for a little while until I felt the crushing weight of my sorrow return. I had no idea where we stood after our fight. Hunter and I met when we were fifteen. Our souls have been tied from that first moment.
She was my best friend. My twin flame. The yang to my yin.
I’d rather lose myself than be without her, so if pretending is what Hunter needed to go on, then so be it.
Quietly, I wrote my capitulation in a note and placed it where she would find it easily in the morning.
I then kissed her soft cheek before leaving the living room.
Locked inside my room, I filled the tub with water and tossed in one of my bath bombs before shedding my clothes and sinking into the hot water.
Usually, I read to pass the time, but I couldn’t focus beyond replaying the events of tonight in my head.
Once I started nodding off, I used the last of my energy to drag myself out of the tub before dying off,.
I then dressed in sleep shorts and a matching camisole.
I then slid into bed and shut my eyes as I sobbed into my pillow to muffle the sound.
In the midst of my undoing, the man from the club suddenly invaded my mind, and I shut my eyes against it, but that only sharpened the image.
That’s when my shitty-ass memory finally whispered a name, and I sat up with a terrified gasp.
I knew him.
And I didn’t just know his name. I’d seen him once before. Three years ago, shortly after my brother opened his club.
With any luck, I’ll never have to see the heir to the Fola again.