Chapter thirteen
Greyson
Hunter Devane’s New Year’s Eve Gala, Clarion House, London.
Situated in the center of the City of London is Clarion House, a modern five-star hotel only within the budget of the rich, famous, or both.
It’s here that my boss has chosen to host his New Year’s Eve bash for the high and mighty of the city.
Anybody who is anybody will be here tonight.
The grand ballroom will be filled to the brim with both celebrities and business people.
Since our arrival back into London a few days ago, I haven’t seen Tilly.
This will be my first time in her presence since Damon intruded in the hotel room when he found us together after managing to get a keycard from reception fuck knows how.
His eyes had bugged out of his head, then he’d turned and slammed the door closed so no one else could witness what had happened.
“What the fuck are you doing?” he snarled, storming toward the bed and dragging me backward off it. Tilly had scrambled for the sheets to cover herself, but Damon wasn’t interested in her. His attention was fully on me. “Are you trying to get yourself killed?”
“Let me get dressed, McKinney,” I muttered, moving to walk past him to collect my clothes. He grabbed my shoulders, pushing me backward, and we glared at one another. I wasn’t sure if he was going to hit me or shoot me. “Fucking move. You can kick my ass once I’m dressed.”
“I won’t need to kick your ass if Hunter finds out about you sticking your dick places you shouldn’t. He’ll cut you to pieces himself. What were you thinking?”
He glanced to Tilly curled on the bed in the duvet.
My eyes followed his, and I swallowed the reality setting in of what I’d done.
Not only to her, but to me. Fuck, this is a death sentence.
“I wasn’t thinking,” I said, attempting to explain away my taking the virginity of a betrothed woman. A woman who was to take the place of wife to one of the most powerful mafia men in the world to settle a debt or agreement of some kind.
“It wasn’t your fucking brain that was thinking, that’s for sure.”
Before I could argue, Damon strode over to the bed. He offered his hand and encouraged Tilly to sit up. She did so while ensuring her body was still covered from his gaze.
“Are you okay?” he asked her, his tone immediately calm. I’ve worked with Damon for a few years now—we aren’t friends, but I know he’s good at what he does. He has an ability to put people at ease when speaking. The trait of a seasoned cop turned criminal I suppose. “Was what happened consensual?”
“What the fuck do you think I am, McKinney?” I spat at him, and he spun to face me.
“I need to know the answer to my question before I decide what to fucking do next.” He turned back to Tilly, who was practically quivering on the bed. Shit, she looks so damn young. “You’re safe whatever your answer is. All I need is the truth. I can help you.”
For a second, I panicked. What I knew of Tilly before now wasn’t great.
She and I both know her future is set in stone from here on out.
Will she take Damon’s opportunity to say what I did wasn’t what she wanted?
Could she throw me under the bus to save her own skin if this lapse in judgement was ever to become public knowledge?
“Yes, it was consensual,” she replied, her voice soft. “I wanted to have sex with Greyson.”
Damon turned back to me and his expression, which had hardened, immediately relaxed, but then he pinched the bridge of his nose. His eyes closed and he mumbled something to himself that I couldn’t hear.
“Okay, Greyson. I’m going to save your ass. Cover up your junk, we’re leaving.”
Tilly looked over, and I tried hard to smile but I couldn’t. This was a complication neither of us needed. A threat held over our heads that no one except the people in this room could ever know.
“Thanks, McKinney,” I said and Damon nodded. “Can you give us five minutes?” He shrugged but moved for the door.
“Not a second more,” he called over his shoulder as he opened the door and left.
I quickly gathered my clothes and redressed. Tilly lay on the bed and watched me, silent. Moving back to her side, I sat down and touched her cheek softly.
“It will be okay. Damon is a good man who won’t tell anyone,” I whispered, trying to be positive. “You‘ll be home and safe before you know it.”
“We both know home isn’t a safe word to me,” she said, tears forming on her lower eye lids. One escaped and ran down her cheek, and I wiped it away with my thumb. We stared at one another for a moment, then there was a rattle on the door.
“I need to go.” I stood, but she reached up and grabbed my fingers. “I’ll never be far away,” I told her. “If you need me, I’ll be there.” And without another word, I left.
Someone else had been allocated the duty to watch Tilly, and Damon and I headed back to London.
He hasn’t discussed what happened back in Edinburgh with me, just told me to keep my mouth shut and do as I’m told.
He had no option but to draft me tonight for security at this event.
It would have been strange had I not been here.
Hunter would have definitely asked questions, and that’s the last thing we want.
I’m placing the security cameras around the grand hall where the gala is taking place.
Not only will there be personnel on the ground, but a full security room is being constructed within the hotel for tonight.
Gatherings of highly influential people always make great targets for enemies, and the Russian threat from Scotland won’t just have disappeared, though our surveillance hasn’t brought anything to light since their attempt on Tilly and my life.
“Greyson.” Damon’s voice echoes through the hall as I stand on top of a ladder, fixing the camera to a curtain rod. “Can we have a briefing before people start to arrive?”
“Sure, give me a minute.” Once I’m happy the small lens is secure, I climb back down and move to join him at one of the already laid tables. He passes me a small wire connected to an earpiece.
“Everyone has one tonight,” he says, looking up. “Be careful who you’re talking to and what they say. If you need to have a conversation you don’t want anyone to hear, switch it off.” He points to a small red button on the left earbud.
“Thanks, but I don’t think that will be necessary.” Damon raises an eyebrow and gives me a look as if he knows something I don’t. “I’ll stay in position and out of the line of sight as much as possible.”
“That girl will come looking for you.” We stare at one another, and I need to remind myself Damon only knows the Tilly I knew before the fiasco of the Scottish Highlands, the spoiled brat who ran away and fought her family every step of life.
He doesn’t know the scared, out-of-control woman who just wants to live and be happy. The one I came to know, albeit briefly.
“She isn’t who you think she is,” I tell him, and he scowls.
“She is exactly who I think she is. Our boss’s niece and the fiancée of Domenico Lombardi. She is fucking off limits.”
“The last person she should be marrying…”
Damon holds a hand up. “Don’t say another word. Don’t give me a reason not to trust you.” He sighs softly before continuing. “I know what it feels like to fall hard and quick for someone you shouldn’t. You have to know whether it’s worth the risk.”
Taken aback by his assessment of the situation, I have no idea what to fucking say in response. It’s a hell of a statement from a man I barely know and one who caught us in bed together, but he’s also fucking bang on. I’ve fallen for Tilly, and her not being with me is hell.
“Was it worth the risk?” I ask him, and he grins.
“One hundred percent, and if I could have a do-over, I wouldn’t be such a fucking dickhead about it. I’m just lucky to have someone who loves me for me.”
He leans forward and punches my shoulder.
“If you talk to her tonight, don’t get caught. It’s not only our team here but the Lombardis’ as well. Everyone will be on high alert.”
“Understood.”
I watch as he stands and walks away in the direction of the reception area.
My shoulders sag as I consider what tonight could bring to my door.
Worst case scenario, someone already knows about my and Tilly’s short relationship in Scotland, and danger could be closer than we think.
Or the night could go seamlessly with no security issues, and Tilly’s engagement could be announced to the world as planned.
I am not sure which version I prefer, but I do know by the end of tonight something will, no doubt, go wrong.
***
“Greyson, do you have a visual on Hunter?” Damon asks, his voice clear in my ear.
“Sure do,” I reply. “He’s in conversation with Domenico Lombardi.”
The evening is already in full swing and it is only eight o’clock. The guests saunter around the dining room looking for their seat at each table, place allocated with a white name card featuring golden ink. The silverware sparkles under the central table sconces which hold twelve candles each.
Waiters weave amongst the attendees carrying huge trays of champagne. It’s a challenge for them not to trip over the extensive swathes of material trailing along the floor from lady’s dresses. Hunter instructed evening wear on the invites; his guests certainly are here to impress.
“Good, keep your eyes on him and his three men who are stuck to him.”
“Received.”
I watch as Hunter’s wife wanders over. They recently reconnected after decades apart, and for once, he seems somewhat settled.
Well, more stable than I’ve seen him in the years I have worked for him.
She left her home country of Spain in her late teens to marry him and has been in London ever since.
However, as far as I’m aware the two have never lived together.
She touches his arm, and he turns toward the movement. His face automatically lights up when he sees her. Hunter then turns back to Lombardi and introduces his wife. Even being unable to hear what’s being said, I can tell he takes great pride in doing so.
“It’s amazing how getting his cock sucked regularly improves his mood,” a familiar female voice says from behind me, and Damon clears his throat in my ear. I lift a finger and switch off my earpiece.