Arrogant

by Drea Blackery

  Then Cam gave an exaggerated frown. “Why are you taking this so personal anyway? And from what I recall, all you did last night was stare at Alecia like a dumbass when you should have been networking. Then the two of you disappeared for the rest of the night.”

  I levelled a direct look at him. “Get to the point. What are you trying to say?”

  “Is there something going on that we should know about? AKA, are you fucking her?”

  “Allie left early during the party,” I lied smoothly, “and I was giving you space to work on Finnigan.”

  Cam smirked at me. “Even after all these years, I can't tell when you're lying. But this time, I have a verbal statement from my housekeeper that you came to my residences last night, asking to loan a shirt.”

  My jaw ticked.

  “What would you need a shirt for?” he cocked his head. “Unless the one you were wearing had something happen to it.”

  “Piss off,” I muttered into my drink.

  “Be careful with her, Ryland,” Cam said casually. “She could screw us over if she wanted.”

  “She could, but she won't.”

  “You can’t be sure. Look what happened with Valentine.”

  “Allie's loyal to a fault. And she's innately good, which can’t be said for either of us.”

  I took another swallow, bracing myself for what I was about to tell Cam next. “Speaking of which, this shit with Estelle isn't going anywhere, so I'm considering another option.”

  “Am I gonna like it?”

  “Nope.”

  “What is it?” Cam frowned.

  Then his face twisted in pure fury when he caught my meaning. “No. Fuck, no.”

  “From Estelle's reaction during our meeting, I'm eighty-percent sure that Theo isn't working with her.”

  “But he did back then.” Cam looked at me incredulously. “The hell is wrong with you, man? Did you forget how he screwed us over?”

  “No, but at this point I'm willing to pay even him if that means taking Estelle out. That bitch isn't getting shit from me.”

  “Or me, but there's gotta be a better way than teaming up with that lying sonofabitch!”

  Feeling weary all of a sudden, I tipped my head back and drained my glass in a single swallow. “Let me know if you have other ideas. Because at this point, we've got jack.”

  “This is bullshit.” Cam shoved off from the railing angrily.

  “Is that a yes to go ahead and contact Theo?”

  “No,” he snarled.

  “I'm gonna do it anyway, you know that right?”

  “Fuck you, Wyatt. Seriously, Fuck. You.”

  Cam turned and stomped away, toppling one of the guys he shoved past.

  I squeezed the bridge of my nose.

  This was bullshit, but hell if I could see another way out of this.

  Estelle's plan was laughingly simple, and yet it was watertight from every angle. The only person she would possibly let close was Theo.

  The question now was, would he work with us, and if so, could we trust him?

  Probably not, to both.

  I exhaled harshly. I rarely allowed myself to get backed into a corner, but now here I was, between a rock and a damned hard place.

  Not to mention the unexpected distraction that was Allie.

  “Have a nice weekend,” she'd said. “I know I will.”

  Irritably, I wondered what she was up to now. Probably reading a book in bed, or watching some Netflix.

  I found myself wanting to join her.

  As if on cue, I heard her voice in my head again—a loud laugh this time.

  Shit, I really was going crazy.

  Then I stilled.

  I’d never heard her laugh this way before.

  Glowering, I spun around to search the dance floor for a skinny, stubborn brunette who seemed hell-bent on driving me to my limits.

  My gaze sharpened when I spotted Allie’s face in the crowd, dancing near the DJ booth.

  Her head was thrown back with a wide smile, and she looked smoking hot in that tiny scrap of a dress. And she was…

  Grinding on a guy?

  And was that his hands on her ass?

  I stared in disbelief. What. The. Fuck.

  I made my way down the stairs and was in front of her in thirty seconds flat.

  Allie gasped when she saw me. “Ryland?”

  “Don't act so surprised, you knew I was going to be here. And you,” I snarled at the prick who was subtly backing off with his hands in the air. “If you lay a hand on her again, trust me, I'll make you wish you didn't have hands.”

  “I didn't know she had a boyfriend,” he protested.

  “Now you know,” I snapped at the same time Allie burst, “I don't!”

  But it didn't matter, the guy had already disappeared.

  “Come,” I clipped, taking her hand.

  “No!” She yanked it back. “I have nothing to say to you.”

  “Yeah? Well, I have plenty to say to you, and you're going to listen. We can do this the easy way or the hard way. Choose.”

  Allie glared at me, her chin setting stubbornly.

  I scowled right back. “Five. Four—”

  “At least let me tell the girls first,” she snapped. “They'll be worried.”

  “Fine.” I was only slightly mollified that she wasn't that senseless as to come alone.

  I watched as Allie headed over to where Karin was dancing with a guy and generally doing a crap job of looking out for her sister. They exchanged a few words, and as Allie made her way back to me, Karin gave a thumbs-up that only I could see.

  The fuck?

  I grasped Allie's hand the moment she came back to me, striding away from the dance floor as she stumbled to keep up behind me.

  I had never seen Ryland so pissed off before. The crowd parted for him like the Red Sea, probably petrified by his furious expression.

  “Slow down,” I gritted.

  Ryland didn't say a word or slow down as he strode to an employee-only door at the back of the club. He stabbed a code into the security keypad and shoved the door open to reveal a stairwell. There were two off-duty waiters smoking inside, and they stared at us with matching looks of surprise.

  “Out,” Ryland clipped, and they beat it without question.

  “What's wrong with you?” I demanded. “You can't just barge in here whenever you like!”

  “I have a fifteen percent share of this place,” he said coldly, “so yes, I can barge in here whenever I fucking like.”

  “That still doesn't give you any right to drag me from my friends!”

  “Was that who that prick was? A friend? Because he was staring at you like he wanted to screw you right on the damned floor.”

  “And so what if he did?” I threw back hotly. “Maybe I wanted him to.”

  “Shit, is that what this is about?” Ryland stared at me, his brows drawn together. “You came here to make me jealous?”

  “I didn't,” I protested, even though he was partially right.

  I had come here hoping to bump into him.

  And then I'd danced with other men hoping that he'd see.

  Ryland paced the short length of the stairwell, looking absolutely pissed-off.

  He was no longer the cool, controlled man I had first met at the art exhibition. His eyes were wild now, and his hair was disheveled from running his hands through them.

  “What does it matter to you anyway?” I blurted. “You're not my boyfriend. We're not even friends! We're just…” I floundered for the right words. “We're nothing.”

  Ryland's face darkened. “We're not nothing.”

  “Then what you said earlier about being my boyfriend. Was that true?”

  He stared at me silently, the muscle in his jaw ticking.

  “I thought so,” I said, steeling myself against the unexpected disappointment. “You don't want this toy, but no one else can have it either. That's all this is.”

  “You're not a toy, and for
the last time, Allie. I. Want. You.”

  “But you also don't want anything more than a fling,” I threw back. “It's just lust, and like you said, lust fades.”

  “I want more, okay?” Ryland finally snapped. “For the first fucking time in my life, I want more with a woman. With you.”

  I blinked as Ryland glared at me, his expression bleak and furious.

  “I want this as much as you do, Allie cat,” he growled, “but it doesn't matter. At the end of the day, I can't give you the commitment you want. There are things that I did in the past that you won't like.”

  I latched onto his words with stupid hope.

  “Everyone has things they're not proud of,” I began.

  Ryland was shaking his head even before I was done. “This is on a whole other level. You cannot even begin to imagine. And it's not just in the past. Even now there are things I'm doing that aren't pretty.” His jaw tightened. “I know last night meant something to you, but guess what? I took you up to the greenhouse for my own agenda. It wasn’t just because I wanted to be alone with you.”

  I paled. “What do you mean?”

  Ryland stabbed a hand into his disheveled hair, looking trapped. “There was a guy attending the gala, the CEO of a boutique realty. He’s holding a property that's undervalued. I want that land, so I pulled some strings and found out that his firm owes a large debt to Lancaster Hoteliers.”

  A soundless breath escaped me. “You got Cam to press them for payments, so they would have no choice but to sell the land to you to raise funds.”

  Ryland’s ice-blue gaze burned into mine. “And I had to leave the ballroom so the guy wouldn't spook or get the idea that Cam and I were working together. It wasn't about taking you to some pretty place just to see you smile, Allie. Everything I do is calculated. Everything.”

  My heart twisted painfully in my chest. Had everything been a lie?

  “Then last night, what we did,” I swallowed, “was that part of your plan too? Did you get me up there to…”

  Ryland watched me, his throat working.

  “Yes,” he finally said. “I got you up there planning to fuck you.”

  I blinked at his brutal honesty.

  “I want you,” Ryland said bluntly, “and everything I do is geared towards having you. I can’t lie about that. And I'm not gonna apologize for it.”

  “But even so, you can't commit.”

  Ryland spread his hands, his fingers straight with tension. “Allie, I have a shitload of skeletons in my closet, and I don't want you there when they come out. And before you think I'm protecting you, I'm not. I'm protecting myself. I won’t have you walking away from me when you decide you're done. I’m the one who’ll get tired of you, not the other way round.”

  My brows snapped together.

  He was so selfish. So flawed. As ugly on the inside as he was beautiful on the outside.

  So why was I still here?

  “Tell me,” I said. “All the skeletons—I want to know about every single one of them.”

  Ryland’s expression looked haunted. “No,” he rasped.

  I reached up and touched his jaw, and he turned his cheek into my hand as if by instinct.

  “I want to know,” I said quietly.

  I held still as I waited for Ryland to come to his decision.

  Then finally, he set his jaw with a furious gleam in his eyes.

  “I do you one better,” he growled. “I’ll show you.”

  He took my hand in a tight grip and led me back to the club.

  My heart pounded in my throat as I went with him, and I hoped I wasn't making the wrong decision.

  Ryland was tense as he led me up the grand stairs to the second level of the club where the private rooms were.

  I knew he was taking me to his meeting with Marlon da Silva. What I couldn't tell was how this was going to end.

  I already knew how single-minded Ryland could get when he wanted something, and his revelation about the deal he had with Cam didn’t help either. I had no doubt that what he was about to show me would be ugly.

  Were bribes going to be exchanged?

  Drugs?

  Something else that was illegal?

  I looked up at Ryland worriedly, but he kept his gaze firmly ahead. The muscles at his neck seemed to tighten with every step we took.

  Ryland stopped a short distance from the first door we came to. It was marked VIP and was flanked by two large, suited men standing guard.

  He paused for a long moment, and I sensed that he was debating whether or not to go ahead with this.

  Finally, he looked at me with a grim expression.

  “Once we're in there, follow my lead. If Marlon asks you any questions, answer, but don't make the mistake of letting him lead you into conversation or dropping your guard. That man latches on to info like a dog with a bone.”

  I nodded uncertainly. “I thought he was a socialite.”

  “Gabriel is a socialite. This guy just pretends to be one. It makes people underestimate him, which is what he wants, so whatever you do, don't.”

  “Okay, I'll be careful.” I twisted my fingers nervously. “But...what does this have to do with what you told me?”

  Ryland's expression darkened. “You'll see. Knowing Marlon, he won't take long to pull out his party tricks.”

  I followed as Ryland strode past the guards who stepped aside for him. He grasped the handle of the door and pushed into the room.

  The sizeable private room was dimly lit with ambient lighting and furnished with leather sofas, love seats, a karaoke system and a bar at the back.

  It could fit twenty people comfortably, though there were only five people in the room—two more guards inside by the door, two beautiful, curvaceous brunettes dressed in tight bralettes and skirts on the sofa, and between them, a shockingly attractive guy in a rumpled dress shirt and grey slacks.

  I blinked in surprise.

  From Ryland's description of Marlon da Silva, I had imagined him to be an older businessman, but the guy lounging with his arms around either girl beside him looked even younger than Ryland.

  He had a riot of dark curls, and his irreverent grin reminded me of Gabriel, with his teeth startlingly bright against his olive skin. A diamond stud twinkled in his right ear, and his crinkled white shirt was open nearly to the waist, revealing muscled pecs lightly dusted with hair, and below that, a chiseled six pack.

  In short, Marlon da Silva looked more like a playboy than a businessman, let alone one who ran a successful high-end club like the one we were in.

  “Wyatt.” Marlon got up and strolled over to us, his arms thrown out in welcome. “Good to see you again.”

  “da Silva,” Ryland grinned, the tension that I saw on his face earlier vanishing like smoke.

  He did miss his calling in acting.

  The guys went for a masculine hug, thumping the other once on the back before releasing their grips.

  Then Ryland nodded his chin at me. “This is my new PA, Allie Beckett. She’s here to observe.”

  “Olá.” Marlon took my hand, pressing a fleeting kiss to my knuckles. A flirtatious smile played on his lips, though his hazel green eyes studied me closely. “Beckett, you said? That name sounds familiar.”

  Ryland's cool smile didn't waver. “It's a common last name here.”

  I forced myself to hold Marlon's watchful gaze as he released my hand. While his smile was open and friendly, I didn't miss the alertness in his expression.

  Ryland had been right—Marlon might look and play the part of an indolent rajah, but he wasn't one.

  And if he didn't already know how Beckett Construction had been tied to Wyatt Corp in the past, he would find out before the night was over. I had no doubt about that.

  I managed a polite smile nonetheless. “Pleasure to meet you.”

  “Pleasure's all mine.” Marlon rejoined the two women on the sofa. “These are my girls, Frieda and Lola. And as always, drinks on me. What are you having?”
/>
  On cue, one of the girls got up and headed to the dry bar at the back of the room.

  “Whiskey, neat,” Ryland said as we took the sofa across Marlon. He turned to me. “You?”

  “Water for me, thank you.”

  “No no, none of that shit,” Marlon cut in. “You are having a drink.”

  “Allie is here for work,” Ryland said smoothly, but it was impossible to miss the steel under his cool timbre. “She'll have water.”

  Marlon's attention swung to Ryland, a faint smile playing on his lips. “I didn't realize you looked out for your employees so well,” he remarked.

  “Now you do,” Ryland said simply.

  The two men stared down each other for a beat until Marlon broke his gaze to turn back to the bar.

  “You heard them, Lola,” he called good-naturedly. “One water, and I'll have the same as my friend Ryland here, Obrigado.”

  The room gradually filled with cigar smoke and the tang of liquor as Ryland and Marlon talked and drank.

  The conversation that went on between them was seemingly innocuous. They chatted about topics at random, like sports or their mutual business acquaintances, but under their easy banter there was an underlying current of caution, as if they were both trying to figure out how to gain the upper hand on the other.

  It was especially so for Marlon.

  His lax posture and easy laughter made it seem like this was just a game to him, but his sharp gaze said that he was filing away information for future use. This man had to be a nightmare to go up against, and his youth and beauty only made it easier to be caught unawares.

  His attention soon turned back to me. “Allie, was it? How long have you been working for Ryland?”

  I felt Ryland’s watchful gaze on me.

  “Just over two weeks,” I said evenly.

  Marlon brought one bare foot up on the sofa, resting his elbow on his knee. His eyes studied me, and I tried to ignore the way he was clearly dissecting me in his mind.

  “Two weeks?” he mused. “Mm. Don't get me wrong, you're a beautiful woman. But you're not Ryland's usual type.”

  He cocked his head at Ryland. “Your previous secretary, what was her name? Tina? Tiffany? Now she was a hot piece, all tits and ass, and smart even. I wanted to hire her out from you myself.”