Chapter 21 #2
I nod. “Financially. Strategically. Whatever the fuck it takes. You helped me before, and it worked out well. You’ve got the resources, and I’ve got the vision. Together—”
“You could finally breathe.” His tone slices clean with no hesitation. “But this isn’t about music. That isn’t what has you shaking like you’re about to snap a vein. Why don’t you tell me what this is really about, Cash?”
I freeze. My throat constricts. The weight of Leon Baker’s name presses against the back of my tongue like poison. I don’t say it out loud. I can’t. Instead, I let out a jagged laugh that isn’t funny.
“Mr. Crowne, there are things I can’t talk about. Things tied to him. Shit, nobody can ever know. It’s too fucking dangerous.”
Jaxon’s eyes narrow with the kind of stare that melts right through lies. “Then you’ve already said too much.”
“Probably, but I can’t give details.” I rake my teeth over my lip. “If the wrong person heard, I’d be finished. But I need leverage. Something to keep me alive and give me the upper hand.”
Jaxon lifts his drink. “And you think starting a label gives you that?”
“Not just the label.” I lean closer, breath unsteady. “You’re a tech guy, right? You invest in shit nobody even knows exists yet.”
“That’s correct.”
“Tell me… Do you know of anything that records conversations without being detected? It can’t be a phone or a wire. Nothing like that would work. It’s got to be something no one would suspect.”
The faintest smirk slides across his face. “Yes. I know of just the thing you’re requesting.”
My chest seizes. “You’re serious? I thought it was a long shot.”
“I’m serious.” He gives a single dip of his chin.
“One of my companies manufactures jewelry with embedded tech. Rings, necklaces, bracelets, earrings, cufflinks, tie clips. You name it, they can make it. It’s undetectable.
They capture everything and send it off-grid.
Invisible unless you know where to dig and no one does. ”
“Fuck. That’s exactly what I need.” I run my hand down my face, hoping this is the answer I’m looking for. “Would you… Would you put me in touch with them?”
“I’ll make the introduction. But understand something, Cash. If you’re stepping into this, you’re going to be marked.”
A bitter huff breaks loose. “I’ve been marked since the day I was born. At least this time, I get a weapon.”
“Then pray this works out for you.”
“I’m too close to hell to pray. No one up there can hear me.”
Jaxon tips his glass until it clinks against mine. “Then take your weapon and let’s get your label started.”
“Speaking of praying. Has anyone ever told you that you’re a fucking god?”
He chuckles. “Once or twice, but remember what I said to you years ago. If you’re fighting your destiny, something will stop you and put you right back where you belong. Are you sure you’re up for this, and this is the right way to go?”
“Absolutely.” I almost vomit thinking about the past years. “The path I’m on isn’t my destiny. It was my pops’.”
“Ah, I see. This is about some kind of family karma of sorts.”
“Yeah. Something like that, but it ends with me.” I throw back my drink. “I have a woman I’m supposed to be with, but I have to stop him first. With your help, I’m destined to win.”
“Then I’m glad to be of assistance.” He seems to consider something. “Love… If this is about love, go forward with all you’ve got. It’ll be a tough road, but I’m sure you’re up for the challenge.”
“Thanks, Mr. Crowne. How do you wanna go about making these arrangements?”
“I’ll reach out.” He gestures to my glass. “Care for another? My lady friend is busy for a while, and I have some time to burn.”
“Thanks for the offer, but I’ve got somewhere I need to be.”
“Very well. In that case, I’ll call it a relatively early Friday night and leave with you.” He stands and taps the bar. “Louis, put these on my account and tip yourself the cost of the bill.”
“Merci beaucoup, Mr. Crowne.” Louis waves as we turn and exit the club.
The night air cuts sharp against my skin when we step outside. Jaxon disappears into a waiting car, his world of control circling tight around him again. Mine? Already fraying.
I give my driver a different address, low enough the words rumble in my chest. Elite-Sinsations. I dropped two million dollars for this one chance encounter. It better pay off. If it does, the money will be trivial.
I shouldn’t care about this place, but I do. A phone call I wasn’t meant to overhear was all it took.
Lily’s voice with Bren’s floating through the line, the way she said him, sealed it. Whoever she’s seeing, they met there, and I’m sure they’re there tonight.
She’s moving on like I was never the noise in her soul. But I still can’t hear myself without her.
Her whisper remains on my pillow. It’s me she should be lying beside. My life with her was stolen from me, and I won’t stop until I get her back.
The drive is a blur of lights and gnawing rage. When I’m granted entry, heat and perfume slam into me. The place is velvet decadence wrapped in vice. Bodies lit in an amber glow, and every corner soaked in sin.
I wander through, pulse climbing with every room. There’s a woman bent over a leather bench, moaning under a stranger’s hands.
A man on his knees, worshipping leather and lace. Whispers, laughter, and broken promises spilling from lips painted with lust.
All I see is her in every scene. Livianna, blindfolded. Livianna, hands bound. Livianna, giving pieces of herself to anyone but me in front of anyone who wants to watch.
I can’t breathe, and I can’t look away. Every shadow I pass feels like it might be her silhouette. Every sound like it might be her voice. But she’s nowhere to be found.
At the bar, I order something I don’t taste. Then another and another.
Whiskey pours down my throat, but doesn’t burn enough to cauterize the wound. I stare at the rim of my glass until the room swims, until all I can think is, if she’s here tonight, she’s not mine and hasn’t been for a long time. My good sense gets lost in the haze of the alcohol.
The urge to smash the drink across the marble and storm through every door until I find her claws at me. Instead, I shove away from the bar, ready to vanish before the night stabs me with daggers.
And then two blondes step into my path. Tall, polished, eyes wicked with invitation, and breasts that can’t be missed. One says something seductive to me in French.
I shake my head. “I only speak English.”
“You look like a man with too many worries,” she purrs.
“Maybe we can help relieve them,” the other adds, her hand brushing my arm like silk.
My chest caves in, and my gut twists.
I shouldn’t.
But if Livianna is here… If she’s doing things like this, why the fuck can’t I?