Chapter thirteen
Chase, Chase and Waite Law Offices, Canary Wharf
August 2022
Harrison
“I’ve found her,” Damon says as he walks into my office. “But you’re not going to like what I have to tell you.”
“Where is she?” I snap as my heartrate increases to hyper in a split second. “Is she alive?”
“Yes, she’s breathing. Though if her brothers find out what she’s been doing for the last few weeks, she may not be for long.” I narrow my eyes at him, confused by his statement.
“What are you talking about?” I ask, rocking back in my chair. “Is she hurt?”
“No, she’s definitely in one piece and has plenty of witnesses to confirm it.”
“For fuck’s sake, Damon, spit it out.”
“She’s working at Guilty Pleasures.” My jaw drops, and he smirks.
“Parker’s place?” He nods. “Doing what?” My fury skyrockets. I’ve been there. I know what the girls do for a living. If she’s been offering lap dances or more, I may spank her ass myself if Russell doesn’t get to her first.
“Dancing as far as I know.” He shrugs. “Seemingly, she started on the bar then progressed onto the stage within days. She has quite a fan club.”
“Is this some kind of sick joke?” I snarl, and he shakes his head.
“No joke. I spoke to Joel Parker today and sent him a photo. He confirmed he hired her in July. She called herself Violet Brown.”
“Brown, that’s original,” I say, sarcastically.
“She’s working tonight,” he tells me. “I was thinking we could go pay her a visit. It would probably be best not to tell her brothers. I don’t think I’ll be able to control the three of you.”
“What time does the club open?”
“Midnight.”
“I’ll pick you up at twelve-thirty. We can let the festivities get underway before surprising her.”
“What are you planning to do?” he asks, raising an eyebrow.
“Bring her home.”
***
I wash my face again before looking in the mirror and roughing up my hair. My phone beeps.
Let me know when you’re leaving.
Damon’s message sits on my screen beside the time, which is midnight.
I message back that I’ll be with him in twenty minutes.
After shrugging on my suit jacket, I head downstairs to the garage and slide into my car.
The automatic barrier lowers, and I speed off into the night to go and retrieve Violet Chase from whatever situation she’s entangled in.
Since Damon told me she’s working at Guilty Pleasures, I’ve been caught somewhere between relief, guilt, and fury.
The past hours have been spent contemplating every life choice I’ve ever made and what my relationship with the Chase family will be when I finally bring their daughter home.
The girl has always been completely off limits, but I ignored the rules.
Twice. Both times resulted in her running away from her family.
Tonight, I’ll bring her home to them once and for all.
Damon is standing on the pavement when I arrive at his house. His nanny and son were already in bed; he didn’t want to disturb them with me sounding the horn when I arrived. “You ready for this?” he asks as he climbs into the passenger seat. “Are you calm?”
“Yes,” I reply, not looking at him.
“What is the plan?”
“We go to the club and see how things stand. Hopefully, she’ll be behind the bar, and we can approach her quietly.”
“I don’t think she works the bar now, Waite,” he warns. I feel him staring, but I don’t look in his direction. Tonight, I’m fucking praying she’s working the bar.
Our drive to Guilty Pleasures is made in silence.
There is nothing to say or discuss. Damon knows exactly what’s on my mind.
As we pull up outside the club, the doorman approaches me and takes my keys to park my car.
I hand him a fifty-pound note. He climbs into the Ferrari, then drives off down the road to the off-street parking area.
Damon and I pull our member’s cards from our pockets as we approach the entrance.
This is somewhere I’ve not been in years, but in my twenties, I was a regular.
I probably should have canceled my membership, but it is a place many well-connected men frequent, and having the option to come here can have its benefits.
It’s known for discretion. The security staff wave us through, and we climb the familiar staircase to the club above.
“Good evening, gentlemen,” a pretty blonde says as we enter. She’s wearing a fitted black corset dress with insanely high heels. Her hair sits in perfect curls around a heavily made-up face. “How can I help you this evening? Are you in for a drink or, perhaps, some entertainment?”
Damon speaks before I have a chance to. “Can we have a table near the dance floor?” She nods. “And two beers.”
“Beer,” I mutter. “I’m going to need fucking tequila if tonight is going to turn out how I think it will.”
“Of course,” she says with a beaming smile.
“Follow me. I’ll show you to your table then get your drinks. Two beers and a tequila.”
I don’t argue—the liquor will be welcome.
We file behind her, weaving through the already busy club.
Men in suits with open-neck shirts laze about, drinking and watching the pretty girls strut around.
“Here you are, gentlemen.” She signals to a table for two next to the stage, then heads in the direction of the bar. We both sit and remove our jackets.
I glance around the room. No one is recognizable, but no doubt there will be people here I know or who know me.
A man sits on his own by the bar drinking a whiskey.
He’s not watching the stage, only talking to the woman serving the drinks.
The music changes and my attention is brought back to the pole in front of me.
The girl who was there before has disappeared.
The lights drop, and it casts the stage into darkness.
As they lift, a figure comes into view. She’s turned away from us at the back of the platform.
Dark shiny curls flow down her back, glimmering under the lights.
She’s wearing sky-high heels on the end of long sexy legs.
Her ass looks incredible in a glittery pink thong.
When she turns around, she’s topless. My jaw drops in shock.
She struts to the pole on the stage, hooks a leg, and swings around with insane confidence.
The fiber of control I have snaps.