“Did you already piss him off?” Cara asks from beside me. I shrug, avoiding the eyes I know are still on me.
Libby laughs and leans in. “Hell, maybe you’retheoneto win him over.”
I shake my head in response.
“I mean, the man’s gotta crack someday,” Libby adds with a shrug. “So far, nada.”
“Well, I can assure you I’m not the one,” I say as convincingly as possible.
“Agreed,” Cara adds. “Because that’s definitely his pissed-off face.”
“Boss wants to see you,” Roz says as she approaches, patting my arm. I turn to face her.
“Why?”
“I don’t ask those questions. You’d be wise not to either.”
I sneak a glance at Aiden again. His long, thick legs are relaxed, and he’s leaning back, completely at ease, untouchable even, as he waits for me to obey. He’s the king here in his castle. And he knows it. Nervous energy rolls through me at the thought of being alone with him again.
I set my drink down on a nearby table, finished for now. It’s making me feel tipsy and hazy. My confidence wanes when he slowly stands, and I’m once again reminded of his sheer size and presence. I mentally plan for our interaction. How much Aiden will tolerate from me is a fine line. I can test him or challenge him, but Icannotdisrespect him.
“If I don’t come back in ten, assume he murdered me,” I joke with the girls. Libby giggles.
“You’re safer with him than any man in here,” Roz defends firmly, and my tug-of-war about this man continues.
The older woman stays to talk with the girls as I move quietly toward the back where Aiden stands waiting. When he beckons me with a nod, as though I’m just supposed to follow him down a dark, unfamiliar hallway, the filter that I barely hang on to on the best of days all but disappears.
“Hey,” I call from behind him. He doesn’t acknowledge me, so I move faster as he enters the hallway.
“Hey!” I grab his strong, warm arm and grip tight, my nails digging into his forearm. Fuck, it feels good. I want to dig them in harder.
Aiden stops in his tracks and turns to face me. His eyes are piercing as he looms over me from his full height, and I shrink a little where I stand. In my attempt to contradict the Jessica Rabbit dress that he chose for me and appear as innocent as possible, I wore flat, strappy gladiator sandals, and our height difference is more apparent than ever now as he peers down at me. At five foot seven, I’m not exactly a short woman, so it’s rare that a man makes me feel small. But Aiden Foxx does, with ease.
“I’m not just going to follow you into the back abyss of your club,” I tell him, willing my voice to soften. Aiden’s eyes move to where I’m still gripping his forearm, hard. I pull my hand away quickly, my nails leaving little crescent moons in his skin. He smirks—and the way the corners of his plush lips turn up slightly takes me by surprise—as he leans in closer. It’s such a beautifully wicked sight, which makes rage pulse through me even hotter.
“If I wanted to hurt you, I would do it right here.” His eyes slowly drop to my lips before he pulls them away and glances around the room. I scan the room too. I get it. Everyone here is in his court. Just like he did in the dressing room at Lavish this afternoon, he reaches up and lightly wraps his first finger around my braid, pulling it gently. “If I wanted to harm even one hair on this pretty blond head, I’d do it right out in the open while everyone watched.” He tugs a little harder, and I almost whimper.
“I’d make a fucking example out of you.” He growls his last words before he lets my hair go, and the tone of his voice sends a shiver up my spine. This tone isn’t playful.
“Not one single person in this room would try to stop me, whether they agreed with me or not. They all follow my command. Or do you not realize yet who you’re fucking dealing with?”
I swallow, trying to hold my composure under those violent blue eyes. As strong as I’ve been trained to be, this isn’t Briggs, and this isn’t a training scenario. This is real, and I can already tell he’s a man who would do whatever dark and depraved things run through his fucked-up head. I picture my sister’s face outside the Yard. She was fucking terrified.
“I think I knowexactlywho I’m dealing with.” My voice hardens as I stare straight at him.
“Then stop wasting my fucking time and follow me. I have other shit to do tonight.”
He turns and walks all the way to the end of the hall and pushes through a heavy wood door. An office. A quiet space, secluded in the back of his clubhouse. A tiny wave of fear ripples up my spine, and it just pisses me off, because I’ve been trainednotto fear. I take a deep breath, push through it, and force myself to take the upper hand.
“I want you to tell me exactly what it is you want from—”
“Sit down and stop fucking talking,” Aiden snaps as he closes the door behind me and hits a light switch. A lamp on the large mahogany desk flicks on. This space is warmer than I expected. The walls are painted black and there’s warm wood furniture. Oversize leather chairs sit on either side of the desk, and behind his seat are bookshelves full of binders and ledgers.
“Sit,” he reiterates gruffly.
Fire races through my blood as he takes his seat, obviously annoyed. His shirt strains against his upper arms, and I get a closer look at his ink. Flames—or waves, I can’t tell which—runup the inside of his arms, and there’s writing I can’t read. Another language.
“I don’t have a lot of fucking patience,” he bites out.
