CHAPTER ELEVEN
WYNTER
I like him. Really like him. And I didn’t expect to.
At the beginning, Ray scared the shit out of me. He was all sharp edges and control, watching everything, trusting no one. But the more time I spend with him, the more I see what Anika meant.
He softens. Not for everyone, but certainly for us.
I’m not used to a man looking at me the way he does. Like I’m his. Like the thought of anyone else even getting close is enough to set him off. There’s a part of me that knows I should question it. That there should be a warning bell somewhere in my head.
But there isn’t. Or maybe there is and I’m choosing to ignore it. Because I like it, I like the way he wants me all to himself and I like the way he looks at me like I matter.
So, when he argues about the gym, about Joel, about me going anywhere without him, I don’t fight it as hard as I should.
It’s not like it meant that much to me anyway. And, if I’m being honest, the last week has come with its own perks.
Every morning starts the same way now. With him. And I’m definitely not complaining.
“I’m getting an agency nurse in tonight to stay with Anika. I need you to come to a dinner party with me,” Ray says, shrugging into a fresh shirt.
I watch him from the bed, propped up on my elbows, still warm from where he’s been lying beside me.
“I’ll have a dress sent over,” he adds, buttoning his cuffs. “Be ready for seven.”
“Okay,” I say slowly. “Whose dinner party is it?”
“Vinn’s. A few judges, some other rich bastards.” He glances at me briefly. “It’s good to mix with the right people.” I nod, even though my stomach tightens slightly. He notices the hesitation on my face. “Don’t worry,” he says. “It’s nothing major. Just smile and look good.”
Something about the way he says it makes my chest pinch. Like that’s all I’m there for. Something pretty to stand beside him.
He leans down, pressing a kiss to the top of my head before heading for the door. “Any plans for today?”
I shake my head. “Anika seems a bit down, so I’ve picked out some uplifting films.”
He smiles, kissing me again. “Have fun.”
By seven, I’m ready and waiting for Ray.
The dress he sent is something else. Black, fitted, with a slit up the leg that feels far too daring for someone like me. It’s stunning, there’s no denying that, but when I catch my reflection, I barely recognise the girl staring back.
But I don’t exactly have anything else in my wardrobe that would come close to fitting in at a dinner like this, so this will have to do.
Anika looks me over and smiles. “You look amazing.”
“I feel uncomfortable,” I admit, smoothing my hands down the fabric for the hundredth time.
“You’ll have a great night,” she says gently. “Just relax and enjoy it.”
I let out a small laugh. “Anika, I don’t do this. I don’t socialise with rich people. Judges . . . mafia . . .” I shudder slightly.
She laughs, shaking her head. “You’re overthinking it. Just stick with Ray and don’t worry about anyone else.” Her gaze drifts slightly, her smile softening. “I miss those days,” she adds quietly.
The words hit me hard, and I wince. Guilt rushes in, sharp and sudden. “Oh god, I’m so sorry,” I blurt, immediately regretting everything about this moment.
“Hey,” she says quickly, her tone reassuring. “Don’t be. I didn’t mean it like that. I just . . .” She trails off, searching for the right words. “I don’t even know what I meant.”
She forces a brighter smile. “Go. Have a great time. I expect a full report tomorrow.” I nod, though the heaviness in my chest doesn’t ease.
The door opens and Ray steps in. His gaze lands on me and he pauses for a second. Something in his expression shifts. “You look amazing,” he says, a grin pulling at his lips.
“Doesn’t she?” Anika agrees. “Now, go,” she adds, shooing us both away. “You’ll be late.”
“Remember,” Anika says softly, her eyes flicking between us, “I love you guys.” I frown slightly at that, something about it catching me off guard. She just smiles. “Have a great night.”
I nod, letting Ray take my hand and lead me from the room. But even as we leave . . .I can’t shake the heaviness sitting in my chest.
Dinner is . . . not what I expected.
Ray downplayed it. Massively. This isn’t a quiet dinner for a few rich men—it’s a full-blown gala. Glittering dresses, sharp suits, trays of Champagne flowing endlessly. Everything screams money and power.
I stick close to Sofia, grateful when Ray seats me beside her. He introduces the others at the table, but their names go in one ear and out the other. I don’t even try to remember them.
The dinner is served in quick rounds, small starters of soup that’s practically whipped away before I’ve barely laid my spoon down.
It’s followed by some kind of creamy chicken, and then coffee and dessert.
But the conversation flows, with the men discussing golf and other boring topics, then me and Sofia gossiping, with her giving me all the information on various women seated away from us.
I’m on my way back from the bathroom, when I spot someone who makes me stop dead. Joel. He’s hunched over a tray of drinks, stirring one with focused precision.
“Joel?” I say, stepping closer.
He startles, standing so quickly the tray wobbles dangerously in his hands.
“Wynter.”
“What are you doing here?” I ask, glancing at the uniform.
He gives me a tight smile. “Extra shifts. Events like this pay well.” He lifts the tray slightly. “All money in the bank.”
“Oh,” I nod slowly, “right.”
Something feels off. Joel is always relaxed. Easy-going. This version of him seems tense and on edge. He mutters a quick excuse and moves away before I can question it further.
When I return to the table, he’s there again, handing out drinks. I notice Ray nod to him. It’s a small, almost unnoticeable acknowledgement, which Joel catches and returns just as subtly.
He doesn’t hang around, taking his empty tray and heading off to the next table to collect glasses.
“Weird,” I mutter, sliding into my seat.
Ray glances at me. “What is?”
“Joel’s working here.”
“Why is that weird?”
“He works for you. At the casino.”
Ray shrugs, unconcerned. “That doesn’t mean he can’t pick up other work. As long as it doesn’t interfere with his job.”
“Maybe,” I say, still frowning. “He just seemed . . . off. Not like himself.”
Ray’s gaze sharpens slightly. “You know him well, do you?”
I glance at him. “Well enough to notice something’s wrong.”
“And you went over to speak to him?” he asks.
There’s an edge to his tone and a glint in his eye.
I nod. “Yeah. I thought I was imagining things.”
Ray leans in, his mouth brushing my ear. “Careful,” he murmurs. A shiver runs down my spine. “Keep talking baby, it’s only poking my jealousy.”
I grin. “Come on, now you’re jealous I spoke to a guy?”
He nods, his eyes serious. He runs his finger over my knee, causing the split in the dress to expose the skin there.
“Maybe I should remind you how I get when I’m jealous?” My stomach does the flip flop thing it always does when he talks like this. “Maybe that tight little backside of yours needs reminding.”
I suppress my smirk, leaning in just enough for my lips to brush his ear. “Maybe I should go talk to him again, then,” I whisper.
Ray’s grip tightens on my knee instantly.
Before he can respond, Joel reappears at the table, collecting the empty glasses. I flash him a bright, innocent smile as he passes, and beside me, Ray’s fingers press a little harder into my skin in warning.
I bite back a laugh, sitting back in my chair innocently like I’ve done nothing wrong.
Around us, the room has shifted now that dinner is over. Guests drift between tables, laughter rising over the soft music as conversations blur into one another.
Vinn and Sofia have already disappeared into the crowd, working the room with ease.
At our table, the only one left is the older man Ray introduced earlier, a judge, I think, watching the room with quiet interest.
I don’t get time to recall his name because Ray’s busy hand is under my dress and his fingers are pushing into my underwear.
“Ray,” I hiss, trying to swat him away.
“Don’t draw attention to us, Wynter,” he warns, leaning in close enough to nip my earlobe.
I can feel my cheeks burning with embarrassment . . . or maybe desire as his finger circles my sensitive spot. I gasp and he smiles, resting his chin on my shoulder.
“Relax no one knows,” he whispers.
“But I know,” I hiss, trying desperately to fight the warmth building. “Oh shit.”
A chuckle escapes him. “That feel good?”
I grab his wrist. “This is ridiculous,” I mutter. “You have a reputation to uphold.”
“What is ridiculous, Wynter, is you trying to make me jealous,” he murmurs close to my ear. “Now, come on my hand and let me worry about who’s watching.”
His finger moves faster and a soft sigh escapes me. I glance to the judge who appears to be dosing off as his head lolls to one side. At least he isn’t watching.
The first waves begin to roll through me, slow and steady. Ray nips along my jaw until I turn to him, and then he kisses me, smothering any sound as I come.
I squeeze my eyes closed tight and bow my head, willing the feeling to pass quickly.
“Good girl,” he whispers, removing his fingers. I glance up just in time to see him dipping them into his mouth and sucking them clean whilst smirking my way.
“Oh my god!” The woman’s shriek cuts through the room, sharp and panicked.
I jolt, my heart lurching as I glance around, a flash of dread hitting me, wondering if we’ve been caught out.
But it’s not us. It’s the judge.
His wife is beside him, staring in horror, with one hand clamped over her mouth. “He’s dead,” she cries, her voice breaking. “My husband is dead.”
For a second, everything freezes, then chaos erupts. Chairs scrape back and voices rise as people rush forward, all trying to help at once. Someone shouts for a doctor, another for an ambulance. The calm, polished atmosphere shatters completely.