Page 39 of Vexatious Queen

“I’m saving your ass,” I snapped. “And mine. And this club’s. Not that you give a shit about that.”

She shoved me, forcing me back a step. It hadn’t been hard enough to hurt, but the audacity stung.

“You don’t control me!”

“Someone needs to because you clearly can’t control yourself,” I bit back. “You walk in drunk, livestreaming to however many strangers, flirting with someone who could tank our reputations, and you think that’s fine? Do you think it would be funny if Nash’s business got shut down? Do you think…” I paused and swallowed down the word dad, since we still hadn’t shared that piece of information with the world. “Your father would approve of this? I know you can be a bitch, but I didn’t realize you were vindictive.”

Jennifer muttered something under her breath, and Raquel stared at the floor as they slowly backed up. I caught Chantry out of the corner of my eye helping Lark up, but he wisely didn’t interfere.

Vicky laughed. “You’re just jealous.”

My voice dropped low. “I know you’re not really that stupid, so I’m going to pretend you didn’t just say those words out loud.”

Her angry expression faltered—fear, shame, maybe both—but she swallowed it fast.

“I’m not you,” she hissed. “I don’t want to be some paragon of virtue. I want something more. Something dangerous. Something that you can never understand.”

The absurdity of what she’d just said was lost on Vicky, but I would gladly hand her every ounce of danger I’d survived over the last year.

“Great…good for you. Want it somewhere else. What the hell are you doing filming in the bathroom? That’s totally tacky, and so below you.”

She pointed at me. “Lark had plans to put this place on the map. One live from him could have a line down the street and events booked a year out. You think I brought him here to ruin the place, or you, or to cause trouble? It’s amazing how you always think the worst of me.”

I hadn’t considered the marketing angle.

“Then why come drunk?”

“I’m not. I was just playing it up for the camera. If you don’t believe me, get a breathalyzer, and I’ll take it right now. No one cares about the perfectly sober girl who acts like the goodie two-shoes. I was doing this to help.” She shook her head. “You’re unbelievable.”

The room went silent. Even the music outside seemed to hold its breath.

Lark finished washing his hands and cleared his throat, trying to sound casual.

“Uh… can I have my phone back now?”

“Hey, what’s going on,” Nash asked as he walked up behind the small group crowding the doorway.

I didn’t know what to say. Did I believe Vicky?

“You’re Nash Collier, the owner, right,” Lark asked, walking toward Nash with a shit eating grin.

“Yes…wait…you’re Lark Dennison, are you here to do a piece on Volatile?”

Nash smiled, and I groaned as Vicky shot me an I win smirk.

“I was, but I need my phone back. There was a little misunderstanding as to why I was here,” Lark said, looking at me.

Great…just great. I pulled the phone out of my back pocket and handed it over. Nash gave me an inquisitive look but didn’t ask.

“Next time you film in a public space, I suggest a heads-up or consent forms before recording in the bathroom.”

“Yeah, will do. Wasn’t thinking,” Lark said with a smirk and ran his hand through his hair.

Yup, I definitely didn’t like him.

“Come on, I’ll give you the VIP tour and experience,” Nash said, smiling wide as he escorted Lark out.

“Can I have a word with Vicky…alone,” I asked before she could escape.