9
The next morning, Hawke struggled with the urge to take matters into his own hands and confront Romano. He knew he could handle the problem easily. The only reason he didn’t act last night was because Penny needed him. She had given him everything, and there was no way he would have left her side.
As they sat together in Rhys’s office on the main level of the cigar lounge, Hawke fought against the need to hold Penny close and keep her safe. He resisted, aware that Julia was sitting on the other side of Penny, her face filled with worry despite her attempts to hide it.
Rhys loomed over the mahogany desk, his towering form an intimidating force. Hawke had called him last night and updated him on the situation. The danger to Penny had Rhys was no longer taking a backseat and he decided to face Julia head-on today. The stark shadows played across in the sharp contours of Rhys’s face, deepened the gray storm clouds brewing in his eyes.
“Julia,” he said firmly. His chest heaved beneath the crisp white shirt that clung to his torso, betraying his barely controlled fury. “We are going to skip the dance. Penny was hired by me to investigate a bug we found planted in the club.”
Julia shot Penny a look of betrayal.
“Take your eyes off her,” Hawke growled, a similar fury burning through him. “Look to Rhys, the person you owe an explanation to.”
Julia’s eyes, usually warm and inviting, were now wide with fear. “Rhys, I—” Her voice cracked, the words dissolving into the charged air between them.
“Save it,” Rhys cut her off with a flick of his hand. “I trusted you, Julia. And you betrayed all of us.”
She flinched, bowing her head. “I’m sorry.”
“I don’t give a shit if you’re sorry,” Rhys began, each syllable a thunderous crack against the silence, “Are you working for Victor to ruin me?”
“Rhys, please,” Julia implored, her voice a fractured whisper, as she shook her head repeatedly, “it’s not that simple.”
“Simple?” he spat out, his laugh devoid of any real humor. “Betrayal never is. I need answers, and I need them now. Because Victor’s men targeted Penny last night.”
Julia shot Penny a look of apology before she shifted in her seat, uncrossing, and recrossing her legs. “Victor”—she faltered—“he has something on me. Something I... I can’t—”
“Can’t or won’t?” Rhys cut in, his gaze sharpening, as he leaned over his desk toward her. “Is your loyalty so easily bought, Julia?”
Her breath hitched, tears welling in her eyes. “I—” She hesitated, desperation bleeding into the air around them. “I’m trapped. I wish I could explain everything, but—”
“Then let me help you,” Rhys countered, his anger momentarily eclipsed by something that looked achingly like concern. “You should have come to me first when someone as fucking dangerous as Romano approached you.”
“I…” She hesitated again, drawing in an obvious breath to control herself. “I didn’t know who I could trust.”
Rhys said through gritted teeth, “Explain to me what in the fuck is going on.”
She wrung her hands, her fingers trembling. “I met Victor through my younger sister, who worked for him and owed him money. I paid that money back from what I got from Phoenix.” Her voice broke on a sob she fought to repress, unshed tears glistening in her eyes. “But he’s blackmailing me now, telling me that he can always get to my sister. She has a gambling addiction and he’s been holding it over me, threatening to... he said he’d kill her if I didn’t comply with what he wanted.”
Rhys stood motionless, his features hardening into a mask of stoic stone as he obviously absorbed the gravity of her confession.
Christ, even Hawke was absorbing it. He’d never sell Rhys out, but he understood the fear of being on Romano’s bad side.
“Victor Romano, that fucking snake,” Rhys muttered under his breath. He dropped down into his chair, watching Julia closely. “Where is your sister now?”
“I put her on a plane to Paris and she’s in rehab for her addiction,” she said, still not looking up. “I sent her far, far away.”
Hawke asked, “And took all the heat your sister caused?”
“She’s my baby sister,” Julia said softly. “It was always just us, and she was terrified.”
Rhys crossed his arms, leaning back in his chair, studying Julia.
Hawke got his hesitation. The sight of Julia, so vulnerable and ensnared in a web not of her making, pulled at him, a tug-of-war between wrath and mercy.
“I can’t ignore what you’ve done,” Rhys started, the conflict etched deep in the furrow of his brow and the tight set of his jaw. “My club, the trust of every soul within these walls—it’s sacred to me.”
“I know, I know,” Julia whispered. “And I betrayed that. But I was so scared. I still am.”
