8. Stefan
STEFAN
“Do not take your eyes off my wife for one second until I get there,” I growled into my phone, after directing my driver to take me straight to the club. “And whatever you do, do not let her walk out of there with that piece of shit.”
I had to go after her.
And if Tori thought she was going home with Gavin tonight, she had another thing coming.
At first I hadn’t cared when she didn’t show up at 7 for dinner at the penthouse; despite my father’s fury at her absence I’d believed my own excuses for why she’d stood us up.
“She’s got midterms coming up,” I had said. “All she does is study. It’s not the kind of program you can just skate by in, and she cares about her grades. She’s learning sign language.”
“Sign language? What the hell’s she gonna do with this degree anyway?” my father scoffed. “Plenty of cheaper decorations if she wants something pretty to hang on the wall.”
“I think it’s cool,” my sister Emzee had cut in. “And I’m glad she has her own passion. The way she talks about linguistics, it really does sound like it’s worth exploring.”
I had shot my younger sister a grateful look, knowing she’d intentionally interrupted the argument to try getting us back on track to a peaceful evening.
Sure, I was pissed that my wife had disobeyed a direct order. But I hadn’t been lying about her intense study habits, and to be honest I would have gladly skipped out on dinner with my father too, if I’d been able to get away with it.
The meal dragged on, my brother Luka unusually sullen and refusing to contribute much to the conversation.
Emzee did her best, regaling us with stories about her most recent trip to Istanbul for a photography assignment, but I was relieved when I finally got a text from Dmitri, the secret bodyguard that I’d hired to follow Tori around. I excused myself to read it.
She’s at the 312 Club, his text read. Popular with college kids. Not dangerous.
Studying, my ass. She’d have a lot to answer for when she got home tonight.
I had returned to the table and tried to play the role of good son and brother, even though I’d lost my appetite. The wine helped.
But when Dmitri texted me again soon after to say Tori was getting handsy with that Gavin asshole, I couldn’t not go after her.
Especially when I watched the videos that he sent.
The sight of Gavin grinding up on my wife’s ass, the way she held his hand at the bar, their easy laughter—all I saw was red.
There was no way I was letting her get away with this.
I left dinner early, citing a non-existent business meeting I had to prepare for the next morning, and whipped out my phone to call Dmitri as soon as I got into my private car. And now I was on my way to confront her.
If anything, I was more pissed about the fact that she’d turned off her phone, intentionally making it impossible for me to track her with the app I’d installed.
I didn’t like the idea of her being out there in the city on her own, without me able to protect her, but that’s exactly why I had contingencies in place. Contingencies like Dmitri.
I leaned back into the plush leather seat of the Town Car and scrolled back through the photos Dmitri had sent.
Fucking Gavin. I really didn’t like that guy.
There was something about him that made me want to punch him in the face.
Probably something to do with the fact that he knew Tori was married and underage, yet he kept asking her out to dinner and taking her out to bars and clubs she wasn’t even old enough to get into. He had a lot of nerve.
I almost crushed my phone in my hand when I zoomed in on the pictures of them dancing. Sure, she was also surrounded by her female friends, but that didn’t stop Gavin from putting his hands all over her. That was my wife he was touching. I could kill him.
The Town Car couldn’t get me to the club fast enough. Adrenaline surged through me as I fantasized about putting my fist through Gavin’s face. But when I got there, I couldn’t find him or Tori. They weren’t outside, they weren’t at the bar, and they weren’t on the dance floor.
I scanned the room, looking for Dmitri’s shaved head.
At least he wasn’t hard to spot—he was over six-foot-four and built like a brick wall. He was standing off to the side, barely blending in to the crowd, his eyes focused on something near the bathroom. My eyes followed his gaze, just as his expression became focused and concerned.
That’s when I spotted Tori.
She was weaving through the crowd, but not in her usual, graceful way.
No, she was stumbling and reaching out for stability. Something no one around her would offer. They all ignored her, despite the obvious physical distress she was in.
My blood boiled as I pushed through the crowd, needing to get to her.
Something was obviously wrong. How could no one be helping her?
I watched helplessly as she stumbled, her movements slow and uncoordinated. Was she that drunk? She seemed intoxicated, but I’d seen her drunk before—and it was nothing like this. I couldn’t imagine my wife drinking to the point of practically passing out in a crowded club.
It wasn’t until I got closer and saw her slumped on the floor that I realized she wasn’t drunk at all. She was barely conscious, her eyes glazed over. Totally incapacitated. It was obvious she’d been drugged. Someone must have put something in her drink.
As I pushed my way toward her, my heart pounding, my anxiety spiking, I was beyond livid. I was ready to murder the person who had done this to her.
I scanned the crowd, looking for Gavin. The asshole who had apparently roofied her and abandoned her in the middle of the dance floor. There was no sign of him, so I focused my attention back on Tori, on reaching her before something happened.
“Get the fuck out of my way,” I ordered the people around me, all of whom were too busy laughing and grinding on each other to pay attention to the woman slumped on the floor.
When I finally reached her, our eyes locked for a brief moment before she passed out completely, her head rolling back against the tile.
“Tori,” I yelled, my voice getting lost in the heavy bass pounding through the speakers. “Tori!” But she was out cold.
Dropping to my knees, I cradled my wife in my arms, holding her against me.
Her breaths were shallow against my neck, and I thanked god I had gotten here in time.
I was sick to my stomach. I should never have let Tori out of my sight.
It was too dangerous for her to be out without me.
Even Dmitri hadn’t been able to keep her safe.
This was what my secrets had wrought.
With a growl, I stood up and pushed through the mass of moving bodies, Dmitri at my side as I carried Tori through the crowd. She felt so small and delicate tucked up against me, and despite the emergency I couldn’t help but savor it. It had been weeks since I’d touched her.
But those feelings of relief at finding her, and any comfort I felt as I held her, were all washed away when I saw Gavin heading our way. Immediately I passed Tori over to Dmitri, who could handle her with one arm as I pushed my way over to Gavin.
“What the fuck did you do to my wife?” I demanded, grabbing him by his shirt and yanking him toward me.
“Get your hands off me,” he shot back, but he couldn’t wrest himself out of my grip.
“What did you give her?” I needed answers. I was about five seconds away from beating the shit out of him in front of an entire club full of people.
“I didn’t give her a damn thing,” Gavin said. “Nothing she didn’t want, anyway.”
I released him to gesture at Tori’s prone body, still draped over Dmitri’s arm.
“Does this look like alcohol to you? She was drugged. And you’re the one who’s been feeding her drinks all night. Don’t lie to me again, asshole. Is this how you get women in bed?”
Gavin glanced over at Tori, his expression softening. Then he got up in my face, his eyes cold and flat. “Look. I don’t know what the fuck is going on here,” he said. “But the thing is? I wouldn’t have to roofie her to get her in bed with me. Can you say the same?”
My fist came up, but before I could slam it into his smug face, Dmitri blocked me.
“Let’s get her out of here, boss,” he said, gesturing to Tori, who was pale in his arms. There was a light sheen of sweat across her forehead, and her breathing was still shallow.
I looked back at Gavin, whose face still looked like it deserved a good punch. Or twenty. But I’d deal with him later. Dmitri was right. I had to get my wife home now. Take care of her.
“This isn’t over,” I told Gavin.
He shook his head and walked away.
I clenched my jaw, wanting more than anything to go after him. To beat him to a bloody pulp. And if it weren’t for the fact that Tori needed me, I would have.
Back in the car, I held my wife tightly against my chest. She’d murmured a few nonsense words and I’d managed to get some water into her, so I knew she would be okay.
As angry as I was, though, it was myself that I was really furious with.
If only I could be honest with her. Keep her protected and safe at all times.
After Anja’s disappearance all those years ago, it was impossible for me to feel comfortable with Tori out of my sight.
I couldn’t let anything happen to her. She didn’t belong in my world, even if she deserved all the good things it afforded her.
If only there wasn’t so much tension between us.
If only she could trust me. If only I could trust her.
But there was no way I could tell her the truth. It would only put her in more danger.
At least I could hold her in my arms, even if it was only for the moment. It might be the best I could get, considering all the bad blood between us.
I couldn’t stop thinking about how I hadn’t been able to protect Anja. How she’d been taken from me right when I thought we’d finally found our freedom in each other. I hadn’t been able to save her. But I had been a child then, just seventeen, with no resources of my own.
Things were different now, though. I was a powerful man. I had money at my disposal. Money and connections and ways to protect the things I cared about.
I would keep her safe. That’s all I needed to focus on. And if I had to hire a million bodyguards or keep her locked up in our condo in order to do it, then that’s what I’d do.
She just needed to trust me. Needed to trust that I was doing all of this for her own good.
The truth hit me hard.
I cared about her. A great deal.
The worst thing I could imagine was losing her.
And it scared the shit out of me.