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Worry worms its way into my mind. Mouse is desperate to find her sister, and desperation makes you do things without thinking them through. I just hope like hell for the both of us that she can keep up the act even if she does see her sister. Because if she doesn’t, I’ll have to hurt her, and that’s the last damn thing I want to do. The driver opens the door, and I give Mouse one last look before we exit the car.

She loops her arm into mine and we walk up to the front door together. A large metal door opens and a heavy-set guy in a suit appears in front of us. His face doesn’t have a speck of emotion on it. I reach into my jacket and grab the paper invitations, handing them to him without a single word. He eyes them slowly and steps aside to let us in. I glance over at Mouse, who is behaving well so far, keeping her eyes on the ground. She half smiles at me when she sees I’m looking at her and her happiness sinks deep into my bones.

God, she has no idea how much I want her right now.

We walk down the long dark hallway, leading us to a wide stairwell. I slow my pace walking down the stairs because Mouse keeps tripping over her own feet. I have half a mind to toss her over my shoulder and carry her the rest of the way there, but that wouldn’t be the kind of entrance we need. So, instead, I let her lean into me, and I walk slowly down each step.

When we get to the bottom of the stairs, I briefly stop and look around to take in the crowd. Smoke fills the air, stinging my lungs. My eyes move over the bar, and to the dozens of tables in front of a brightly lit stage. The lighting is dim, but I notice a couple familiar faces, none of which are on my shit list. I catch Mouse looking up curiously, her eyes wide and bright, most likely looking at every little nook to see if her sister is hiding. She takes in the sights and sounds, and I wish like hell that she didn’t have to endure this, but life isn’t fair and if we want to find her sister and, more importantly, my father, this is what we have to do.

I squeeze her hand tightly as a reminder to keep her eyes down, and she complies. I walk her to a table closest to the wall and sit her down in one of the chairs. I like to keep my back to the wall, so no one can sneak up behind me. When you have as many enemies as I do, you don’t ever let your guard down.

A cocktail waitress in nothing but some panties and a bowtie walks up to the table, a bright smile on her red painted lips. I hear a slight gasp from Mouse, as I’m certain she noticed the waitress is topless. I order her a glass of wine and myself a whiskey. She could use a little something to take the edge off.

The waitress tramps off, and I shrug out of my jacket. The room is hot with all the bullshit these high society men are spewing. When the waitress comes back with our drinks, I see two of the guys I typically do business with walking our way. Mouse squeaks beside me, clasping the wine glass between her small hands.

“Xander Rossi…” I hear Blaine chuckle as I take my glass of whiskey into my hands and lean back in my chair. It’s easy to fool people into believing you’re relaxed when you’ve been doing it for years. Charlie, his partner, gives me a nod, his eyes closing in on Mouse, who is fidgeting with the wine glass now.

“Blaine. How are you?” I see the curiosity and desire pool in his gaze when he notices her sitting beside me. I usually don’t have a woman with me when I come to these kinds of events. Matter of fact this might be the first time he’s ever seen me accompanied by a woman.

“Good, very good actually. We’re planning on setting up some new distribution. Your brother still selling, too?”

I swirl the whiskey around in my glass. “Of course. We’re running a fucking empire, Blaine. You don’t just stop whenever you want.”

Blaine nods, his eyes still on Mouse. I’m growing slightly irritated with each passing second. Yes, she’s beautiful and yes, she oozes a naivety most men would love to have but she is mine. All fucking mine, and I’m not sharing her with any of these fuckers.

“I figured, but word on the street is that he got married.”

I nod, taking a drink from my glass. The burn of the whiskey down my throat heats my cold insides. “He did. But he’s still fucking working for me. Why are you so interested in my brother’s work? Afraid he’s going to outsell you?” I smirk, watching as his cheeks heat.

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