12. Aidan
The musicin the bar fills my ears as I enter. I opened this one three years ago with Scott. Following the success of our initial club seven years ago, we opted to launch a second, more laid-back establishment. It’s not a club, per se, but more of a pub.
While Dust’s decor is classy and was made especially for her, Black Knight is more rustic. The wooden bar stands out in the room, surrounded by high stools that offer a clear view of the bustling activity, while the square tables and bench seating provide a more intimate setting for conversation.
We chose to have our office on the second floor, similar to our other clubs, with one-way glass windows that let us keep an eye on everything.
My attention is currently fixed on Blakely, who is engaged in conversation with one of my guys. Is this going to be a habit? Her in my clubs, dressed like sin, with her dress hugging her curves. I find myself stalking each of her movements from my office window.
It has been a few days since Tim was shot, and I guess she has been working her arse off with Paris business lately. From what I heard, Emilie and Bailey had to beg her to go out tonight, so it’s no surprise to find them here.
What is surprising is that my guy is clearly not caring for his life tonight.
I finish my drink in one swift gulp, feeling the burn of the alcohol as it goes down my throat, and head towards the bar, trying to compose myself. If Scott were here, he would advise me this isn’t the time to kill someone just for talking to her. But he’s not here to monitor me.
Placing myself in line of sight, I can see Joe’s panicked glare.
“Boss.” He straightens his posture and looks uncomfortable while my kitten looks at me with fire in her eyes.
“If you value your hands, I’d suggest you remove them from her.” Beads of sweat form on his forehead and start to trickle down his face.
“What are—“ Her words are abruptly silenced as Joe cuts her off mid-sentence.
“Boss, I didn’t know.”
“You didn’t know what?” My eyebrow arches inquisitively as I cross my arms, the tattoos on my skin drawing his attention.
I never meddle in their interactions with women. That’s their business. So it’s the first time he’s seen me like this.
“I didn’t know she was yours,” he pleads, his voice trembling. My men know what I’m capable of, but maybe they need a reminder.
Blakely’s voice is filled with anger as she tells him, “He doesn’t own me.”
“Now you know,” I say to Joe, ignoring Blake”s cold gaze. “Get the fuck out of here.” My tone lets him know this isn’t a choice.
“Seriously? Aren’t you tired of stalking me?” Her black eyes bore into mine. God, she looks like a goddess with her tight dress and red lipstick. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do to get those lips around my cock. I feel the urge to grab her mouth and smear her lipstick across her face as she takes me deep into her mouth. Just the thought of it makes my cock throb.
“Oh, but sweetheart, you’re the one stalking me.” A smirk plays across my lips as I look at her.
She shakes her head in disbelief. “Don’t tell me you own this place too? For fuck’s sake, with all the places here, I can’t believe it.” The last sentence is more of a murmur to herself.
“Oh, but you better believe it, Tink. Now, now. I thought I was clear last time about men touching you, was I not?” I’m pretty sure I can see steam coming out of her ears.
“Let me be clear.” She stands up from her stool, stepping closer to me, her finger now pressing against my chest. “I. Do. Not. Belong. To. You.” She glances to the side to see Bailey and Emilie looking at us, their smiles hidden by their glasses. Good. I might have them on my side.
Moving closer, I breathe in the comforting scent of vanilla surrounding her and gently grasp her hand.
Leaning in close to her ear, I whisper, “Baby, the truth is something you can’t deny, no matter how hard you try to fight it.” I run my fingertips up and down her arm, and tiny bumps rise to the surface of her skin. C’mon brat, come play with me. Her gaze is a mix of fire and desire. She doesn’t know how to respond to my touch. Hate and love may seem like opposites, but they’re actually two sides of the same coin, or so the saying goes. She hates me for now, but I’m a patient man when it concerns her, and I’ll make her see how good we are together.
Just as she’s about to speak, my phone buzzes, stealing my attention away from her. The text message waiting for me causes my entire body to tense up.
Unknown number
Keep your guard up around others, and don’t blindly trust them. Kore.
What the fuck does that mean? When it comes to cryptic messages, this guy is in a league of his own. As I look over, Blakely is studying my expression closely. My attempt to quickly recompose myself fails as she detects something on my face that gives me away.
“Everything okay?” she asks, her brow furrowed.
“All good, just business.” She snorts at me.
“Alright then, well, don’t let me keep you,” she says sarcastically, gesturing her hand toward the stairs. “And drop the caveman bullshit, would you? I won’t hesitate to fuck someone in the bathroom of your club if it’s what it takes for you to leave me alone.”
My blood boils at the mere thought of someone touching a single hair on her body. And in my fucking club. Over my dead body.
I lean in closer to her face, drawn by her inviting crimson lips. “Try me,” I whisper in her ear. ”You won’t like the fallout from that.” With a possessive grip on her chin, I gently kiss the corner of her mouth and pull away before she has time to respond. She’s standing open-mouth, dumbstruck at the move I just pulled. Smirking at her, I make my way out of the room. I need to find Scott.
The pub is still alive with the sound of music, even though it is 2 in the morning. I texted Scott as soon as I returned to my office after my encounter with Blakely, and I was surprised when he told me he received nothing from Kore. So, that was specifically directed at me.
I spent hours, locked in my office, trying to understand the meaning of the message.
Keep your guard up around others, and don’t trust them blindly. Kore
What does that mean? The only thing that I can come up with is that someone is trying to double-cross me. But who? I turn the question over so many times that I can feel my head start to throb. I look at the text message that Scott sent me an hour ago.
SLICE
You need to ask her for help.
I let out a frustrated sigh because I know he’s right, even if I don’t want to. I can’t trust anyone on my team to do the research, and her team proved they could bypass our system even though it was supposed to be impossible. Taking my phone in my hand, I call Shaan.
“Boss?” The music behind him is loud, with people singing around him.
“Shaan. I need you to bring Miss Reed to my office,” I say, looking through my glass window. She is still here, and she’s only had one glass of wine since she got here. Aye, I’m keeping an eye on her like the obsessive and possessive man that I am. I hear him shout something to someone in the background.
“Got it, boss.”
As he walks towards her, I observe his lips moving as he leans closer to her ear for her to hear what he is saying. Frowning, she shakes her head, showing her disagreement with what he said. I had a feeling she would do that based on what happened earlier. Just as I’m about to reach for my phone to call him again, Shaan’s name flashes on my screen with an incoming call.
“Sorry, boss, but she’s refusing to come.”
My mind races as I try to devise a solution that would bring her to me. Taking a minute to think, I tell Shaan.
“Tell her it’s about Scott.” Although I hear nothing on the other line, I can see him mimicking my words. With a worried expression, she stands up from her stool hastily.
I wait patiently for a few minutes before a loud knock interrupts the silence.
“Boss?” Shaan’s muffled voice comes from the other side of the closed door.
“Enter.” I’m waiting for her to come in, eagerly anticipating her reaction when she sees me standing here. It does not disappoint.
“Is this a joke?” she asks while Shaan takes that as his cue to leave, closing the door behind him.
“I’m afraid not. But I didn’t ask you to come up here to fight,” I say as I try to temper the situation. Right now, she is like a startled kitten ready to bolt.
“So, you lied. Typical.” She speaks the words before turning her back to leave.
“Wait.” With a wave of my hand, I motion towards the empty seat in front of me. I pause, taking a deep breath before uttering my next words. “I need your help.” Her brows furrow as she looks at me, trying to make sense of what I am asking.
“My help?” she replies, shaking her head in disbelief. And she’s right to question me. While in the military, I was also involved in the legal operations of my father’s business, and whenever she asked about my day, I would evade the question. I never once asked her for help.
“Aye, your help. Before you leave, can you give me a moment to explain the situation?” I gesture once again towards the empty seat. “Sit. Please.” She nods in agreement and takes a seat facing the other direction. “I received some concerning news that suggested a mole might have infiltrated my team.” I study her body language, searching for any clues to her thoughts or feelings.
“And what help would you need from me? I don’t see how I can help you with that.”
Sighing, I make my way towards the mini bar, the scent of my favourite whisky already filling my senses. I pour myself a glass, and the sound of the liquid splashing into the glass fills the room. Without asking, I pour one for her, too. A quick nod of acknowledgement is all she gives.
I continue. “You easily hacked into our video system with no trouble. It is apparent that I cannot ask my team to do the search because of the situation, which is why I need your help figuring out who is trying to fuck me over.”
“And why would anyone want to fuck you over?” She leans in, her eyes curious as she waits for me to provide more details. I sip my drink and then carefully choose which part of the truth to share with her.
“Some people want me dead. Some people want to take over my business,” I blurt out.
“Like the drugs and weapons found in your club? Was it this one, by the way?” I shake my head.
“No, it was at Neox. But aye. Like the drugs and weapons. It was a setup.” I look at her. “I wouldn’t ask you if I thought I had another choice. I know we have our past, but I don’t trust anyone but you with this.”
Telling her what happened years ago would probably help my case, but I need to buy myself time before she decides to cut my balls and feed them to the lions. I walk around my desk and sit on the edge, waiting for her to decide if she is willing to help me or not.
“And what would I gain in return?” Her eyes bore into mine as she savours the last drop of her whisky.
“Name your price, and I’ll happily agree to it.” I know exactly what she’s going to ask before she even speaks.
“So if I ask you to stop threatening every guy that comes to speak or flirt with me, you’ll agree?” Her grin says she knows I won’t agree to that, even in a million years.
“Sorry, Tink, but I won’t lie. That’s just unrealistic. You’ll have to come up with something else.” Now, it’s my turn to grin.
“So you don’t really want my help, then?”
My initial thought was that she would walk away and leave me to deal with everything by myself as she stands, but she catches me off guard by approaching me.
Wait. What is she doing?
The sensation of goosebumps on my arms is overwhelming as she leans in and whispers in my ear, her touch on my torso sending shivers throughout my body.
“I may have something else.” Her hands go up, then down, up, then down again, with each movement becoming more deliberate.
Is she playing with me?
It’s taking all my strength not to throw her onto my desk and fuck her senseless. I can feel my cock pressing into the zipper of my slacks.
Focus. You need her help.
But her touch is like a drug, addictive and overwhelming, leaving me wanting more. I’ve been dreaming of her touching me like that. Voluntarily.
“Oh yeah? What else do you have?” I ask, anticipating her next move.
“Fuck me.” Wait. What? I might have had a stroke. Surely, I didn’t hear that right, right?