She hasn’t noticed the way they’ve been looking at her. But I have.
Not a single fucker in this room has a clue that this was designed by Brooks. That he gave her to me to pay his debt, and that this is all a facade. Unless he’s told them.
I keep the smile plastered on my face as the thought hits me. Bringing the flute to my lips, I take a swig of the sweet champagne, the bubbles tickling the roof of my mouth.
If the men here know that he’s given her to me, they’re also well aware that I’m letting him pay his debts with her.
And that can’t fucking happen.
I hear Brooks laugh again, although it’s fainter this time and from across the room through a crowd of people. He should know better than to tell anyone about the arrangement. But he’s not a smart man. I put the empty flute to my lips, the glass resting against my bottom lip.
A shiver travels down my arms as Dahlia gently touches Lucian’s arm to grab his attention, completely oblivious to the entire situation. Arianna looks away, her head in the opposite direction as Brooks.
I’m struck by the sweet cadence of her voice as a waitress walking by asks for her drink. She politely tells her she’s fine as I pass the empty glass to the young woman and she sets it on her silver tray.
“Would you like some fresh air?” Dahlia asks Arianna, and she obediently looks to me before answering.
Lucian speaks up before Arianna can answer, saying, “I could use a moment away from the crowds.” His voice is low and only intended for his wife.
“Go ahead,” I tell Arianna, nodding my head toward the French doors. She seems a bit more at ease and I think it’d be best if she got the hell out of this room.
“I need to go to the restroom; I’ll meet you out there,” I answer Arianna and expect her to simply obey. Her hand reaches out to grab my arm as I turn. She’s quick to correct herself, shifting slightly with her expression falling and an apology on her lips.
“It’s alright,” I tell her softly before she can utter a single word, taking her hand in mind and rubbing soothing circles on the back of her knuckles. I stare deep into her dark green eyes and that’s when her reality hits me.
I haven’t even considered what she’s been through. My stomach churns with a sickness. What has he done to her? In a room full of people, all the noises and lights dim to nothing, merely blurs in my periphery as I take in the sadness and fear behind her eyes.
“I’ve got her,” Lucian says, snapping my gaze to his and breaking the small moment of clarity. As he reaches out to her in a casual manner, I nearly rip her away from him, from everyone. In the split second of a moment, I just want to take her away.
I clear my throat, remembering where we are. I straighten my suit and give her a small peck on the cheek. My hand splays across her lower back as I guide her toward Lucian. “I’ll be right back, sweetheart.”
With a tight smile, she nods her head obediently. Always obeying.
“Don’t let her leave your sight,” I tell Lucian low enough so only he can hear me. He nods and instinctively glances back toward the crowd, to Brooks.
The smile on my face is nowhere to be seen as I watch him take her away from me, his wife on his right and Arianna on his left.
The sound of running water floods my ears as I wash my hands, staring aimlessly at the lathered suds. The door to the bathroom opens at the same time as a stall door behind me, and it’s a reminder that I’m not alone. That I should be performing, but I need to get the fuck out of here.
My eyes finally lift to the mirror, my demeanor not at all what it should be. I can’t shake the feeling in the pit of my stomach when I realized she’s not okay.
“Payne.” The corners of my lips twitch as I hear that bastard’s voice. They beg to force my expression into a scowl, but I fight it, concentrating on the fact that a third man is in the room. Stephen Ikabal. He’s a clean-cut man with a penchant for younger women. He’s been married for three decades, and I highly doubt he’s been faithful for any of those years. But then again, she hasn't been either. They both prefer younger company, or so I’ve heard.
“Brooks,” I say and finally tear my eyes away from Stephen in the mirror as he washes his hands in the basin two down from mine.
“How are you?” Brooks cocks an eyebrow, leaning against the granite counter and facing me. Stephen doesn’t react, but he’s a coy old man. I’m sure he’s listening. Everyone’s always listening. Always watching for a weakness. When you’re on top, it’s so easy to fall.
I force a charming smile onto my face as I dry my hands, my eyes on Brooks. He fooled me. I had no idea gambling was his vice. I thought it was sadism. The thought chills my blood and for a moment the charm, dimples and all, slips as I think about my sweetheart. It doesn’t make sense how they fit. It just doesn’t add up.
“Well, and you?” I answer him. Although I’m relaxed and engaging Brooks, I’m highly aware of Stephen's presence as he turns off the faucet and dries his own hands. I need him to get the fuck out of here. I want nothing more than to grab this asshole by the collar and shove him against the wall. I need to know what he’s done to her to put that fear in her eyes.
Brooks nods his head, a smile on his face that looks cocky as his eyes flicker to Stephen as he passes us to get to the door. “Just missing my Arianna a bit.” His voice is chipper as he shrugs his shoulders. Every hair stands on end as Stephen pauses by the trashcan before tossing in the balled-up paper towel.
A chill sweeps across every inch of my skin. I can only imagine what they think of her if he’s been running his mouth. And I fucking hate it.
“I hope you’re getting your money’s worth,” Brooks says beneath his breath, but loud enough for Stephen to hear on his way out. The creak of the door opening and then falling closed easily is the only noise in the room as my hand balls into a fist, the skin tightening around my knuckles to the point where I’m convinced it will split.
I don’t wait for the door to close all the way; I don’t even lock it like I know I should. I can’t hold back the rage any longer.
I hit his jaw first, taking him by surprise. Maybe he expected me to act the part in this environment. After all, we’re not all alone in his office. The soft classical music spills through the bottom of the door as I grip his collar and hit him again with my right fist, knocking his head backward.
This time he expects it at least and he hits me back square on the nose, the pain radiating outward up my cheeks and to the back of my head. It nearly makes me lose my grip on him, but I hold on. White noise rings in my ears as I quickly push him backward.
“She’s not yours anymore,” I sneer into his face as my hands clench, and I slam his back against the tiled wall. I hear a crack, but it does nothing to stop me. “You gave her to me, remember?”
My teeth slam against one another so hard that I swear they’ll crack. He merely grins back at me, blood coating his teeth on the right side of his crooked smile.
As I talk, I can feel warm blood trickle from under my nose. My instant reaction is to slam him back against the wall, and I do it just to get the aggression out. “You owe me, and you’ll pay me by the twenty-fifth.” I decide then that even if I can’t convince her not to give him the money, I won’t accept it. I’ll wait to pay her, I’ll refuse to do it until after Brooks has paid me.
“Sure,” he says with a glint in his eyes.
“I won’t be paying Arianna, so you’ll need to come up with that money some other way,” I speak without thinking, holding his gaze and watching the arrogant expression morph into fear. It doesn’t matter if or when I transfer the money to Arianna, I won’t let him steal from her. I won’t let him use her. Not anymore.
I let go of him when the fear is so strong that his body is stiff. I glance at myself in the mirror and see a black eye already forming, blood on my face and also my dress shirt. Fuck!
“And then what? What are you really going to do about it?” he asks as I grab a few paper towels and wipe th
e blood from under my nose. He doesn’t move off the wall as he hisses, “I don’t have the fucking money.”
I don’t answer him. I won’t ever say it out loud. I’ll kill him. Not for the debt, but for what he’s done to her.
“We had a deal,” he pushes the words through clenched teeth. “You have her and you can’t go back on that!”
It hits me then what I’ve done. How I’ve lost control. I’ve provided evidence. Security cameras are littered in this building. Fuck!
“Payne?” Brooks calls out to me, but I ignore him. He means for it to come out strong as he stays behind me, standing tall and putting on a front, but his voice cracks with fear.
Tossing the paper towel into the trash, I open the door and almost make a quick right turn. I hesitate in the doorway. I need to get the fuck out of here; I can’t be seen like this. But I need to get Arianna. The sound of another man coming down the small hallway makes me move. I have five minutes. If I don’t have her in my grasp in five minutes, I’m coming back.
I keep my hand up, my fingers pinching the bridge of my nose and covering my face. To any onlookers, I hope it looks as if I have a headache. The cool air from the outside breezes by me as I get closer to the exit and a couple walks in.
I ignore them, I can’t even see who they are and I don’t give a fuck.
As soon as I get outside, I spot my limo and walk straight to it. I keep my strides wide and my pace fast. It’s on the far left of the parking lot and the valet and a few guests are on my right, the sounds of them chatting and the brighter lights of the entrance dimming as I walk farther into the darkened lot.
I notice Marcus look up and see me, a surprised look on his face as I finally lower my hand and wipe under my nose. Dark red blood smears across the arm of my jacket.
That fucker. My steps are hard as I stalk toward the limo, my blood fueled with the desire to go back. I clench and unclench my hands before reaching for my phone. My sweetheart.
Thank fuck for Lucian.
As Marcus opens the door, not daring to look me in the eyes, I slip the phone from my pocket, only then realizing my knuckles are cracked and there’s blood on them, too.
My blood runs cold as I settle into the seat. The door closes shut with a loud click and silences the cabin of the limo as I dial his number.
“Lucian,” I say and press the phone close to my ear as I stare at the entrance, the light from the large glass doors and windows spilling out into the night.
“Zander?” he says and his voice is filled with surprise. Which is a good thing. It calms my racing heart.
“Arianna’s still with you?” I ask as the driver’s door opens and Marcus slips in. His eyes flash to mine for a moment in the rearview mirror.
“She is. Is everything-”
“Bring her to the front… please,” I ask him quickly, grabbing a few tissues from the side compartment as I feel a bit of blood trickle from my nose. I resist the urge to slam my fist against the door. Against anything. The anger is coming back. I shouldn’t have left him like that. He deserves so much worse.
“Of course,” Lucian is quick to agree, a serious note in his tone.
“Thank you,” I barely get the words out, feeling in that moment that I’ve failed her.
Every muscle in me is wound tight, my heart beating chaotically. I’ve never done something so fucking stupid before in my life.
“To the entrance, Sir?” Marcus asks and I clench my jaw, nodding my head as his eyes meet mine again in the rearview mirror. My heart slows, and I reach for the whiskey as the limo pulls out slowly. I grab the glass and ice out of habit and pour two fingers into the glass. I sway slightly as we drive around to the front.
I’m able to down the glass before he stops the car and gets out, the cold ice clashing against my teeth. I don’t even realize she’s waiting for us until Marcus gets out and opens her door.
I run a hand down my face and put the cup back as she climbs in, her dress bunched in her hands.
My chest feels tight and my heart clenches as I watch her step carefully in and settle next to me. I’ve made a fool of myself. And her. All because of Brooks.
Next time, she doesn’t leave my side. Not for a moment.
“I’m sorry,” I choke the words out, reaching for her with my left hand, the one without the torn knuckles as Marcus closes the door. I’m so fucking ashamed. She deserves better than this.
She shakes her head easily, her brows pinched and her mouth parting as she takes in the sight of me. “Zander,” she says and my name is barely a whisper on her lips.
She reaches up in an attempt to touch my face. From the look in her eyes, it must be bad. They’re full of questions. But she doesn’t ask them. She already knows the answers. I snatch her hand in mine before she can touch me.
“Don’t,” I tell her. At first, hurt flashes in her eyes, but I’m quick to add, “Just...” I trail off and take in a long inhale, not knowing what to say, or what to tell her. But I don’t have to. She lays down, not waiting for me to finish as the limo pulls ahead. Her hair spills over my leg as she rests her head in my lap. Laying her cheek against the designer pants.
I slowly pet her hair, moving it from her face and smoothing it out. She lets out a comfortable sigh. As she nestles her head into my lap, looking aimlessly into the cabin of the limo, her small hand wraps around my knee. Her thumb rubs small circles. “Was it Danny?” she asks me.
“Yes,” I answer her easily.
“Are you okay?” she asks me in a cautious breath.
“Fine,” I reply and I’m short with her, my voice hard as I continue. “You’ll never go back to him.” Her finger halts in its rhythmic path as I say the words with authority, as if I can command her. For now, she may be in a contract, but I’m not a fool, I can’t force her after the thirty days are done. She doesn’t owe me a damn thing, and what’s more is that I don’t want to force her.
She doesn’t answer me, and her body is stiff, but I continue to pet her hair and then run my fingers down her shoulder to the dip of her waist and back up.
“I don’t want you to.”
Her cheek rubs against my leg as she nods her head, but she still doesn’t answer me.
She has no idea what I feel for her. She may think she’s still just a pawn and a bargaining chip.
But I’ll be damned if she ever sees that asshole again.
I’m never letting her go.
Chapter 20
Arianna
“You should really let me take a look at your eye,” I say to Zander once we step inside his estate and make our way to his bedroom. I’m following behind him, not even taking in his house as he leads me up the stairs.
My heart is still reeling, twisting in my chest with a mix of emotions, my mind running with a million questions.
I don’t know what Danny did to him, but I feel caught in the middle. I feel like I’m the one to blame. He was there because of me. Had to be. Now Zander is paying for it.
Zander doesn’t answer me as he pushes open his bedroom door and walks over to the mirror to peer at his face. Even roughed up, he looks sexy as fuck, his bloodstained dress shirt torn open at the front, his hard, tanned flesh on display.
“I’m fine,” he mutters. But it’s not reflected in his voice.
“Well let me-,” I start to say, coming up behind him.
“I’m good,” Zander cuts in. My forehead’s pinched and I’m silent for a moment as he takes off his suit jacket, tossing it to the side, and then removes his ruined dress shirt, tugging it over his head. He takes it off and lets it drop to the floor, seemingly ignoring my presence.
I can't help my frown and need to back away from him, feeling slightly dejected. He’s blowing me off when I want to know what happened. I let out a heavy but silent breath of frustration as my gaze drops to the floor and I chew on my bottom lip. I wish he’d just talk to me. I need to know what’s going on. I feel guilty, like Zander’s bruised face is all my fault. And this is only
making me feel worse.
“Hey,” Zander says, getting my attention before he lifts my chin up so my eyes meet his. “It’s okay.” He says the words with conviction, and I almost believe it. “I promise you.”
I nod my head slightly and my voice cracks as I answer him, “Okay.”
“I’m still pissed. At Danny, and at myself.” He drops his hand as he adds, “But I promise you that everything is alright.” His eyes search mine and I finally let his words sink in. I believe him. I trust him.
“I’m just glad you’re okay,” I say quietly.
“I’ll always be okay,” Zander replies with confidence, his hand cupping my cheek again. “It’s you I’m worried about.”
“Me?” I ask.
Zander nods, gently stroking the side of my face. My skin warms with his gentle strokes, my pulse quickening.
“I'm fine,” I answer him. “Really, I'm fine.” His eyes search mine for a long moment.
“You’ve been denied so much. I want to give you... more.”
His words leave me with a pain in my heart that I don't quite understand and I feel as if I’m in a trance staring into his eyes. I wish I had words, but I don't. I step closer to him, just wanting to feel him. All I know is that I need his touch.
“You looked so beautiful tonight,” he says softly.
A flush comes to my cheeks as I breathe, “Thank you.”
“And I’ve been waiting all night for this.” He kisses me, pressing his lips softly against mine. It’s sweet and short, but it leaves me wanting more when he pulls away.
“I need you,” he says, his voice low and heavy.
I don't even think about the words as they leave me. “Take me,” I moan, my heart pounding in my chest, hungry for more.
Zander spears his fingers through my hair, cradling the back of my head, and gives me a deeper kiss, this one filled with swirling tongue and unbridled passion. I melt into his hard body, feeling weak in the knees, but he holds me up with his powerful arms.
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