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As the elevator begins to go up, I release the breath I’d been holding and start to mentally prepare for the battle ahead. When the doors open, I’m ready to charge out down the hall, but a group of dangerous looking men are crowded in front of the door, waiting for the elevator.
“Lookie what we have here, boys. Hello, little lady. How’d you like to come up to The Rooftop with us? I’ll let you sit on my lap and go for a nice ride.”
The goon’s friends all chuckle at his gross invitation. I have to reach out to throw my hand in front of the elevator door to keep it from closing when they refuse to move out of my way.
Stay calm. Deep breath, Val.
I take a half step forward toward the asshole, looking him directly in the eye as I quietly say. “How about you and your friends get the fuck out of my way, and I’ll not kick your ass.”
“A little slut like you? You can’t even—”
He never finishes his sentence. It’s hard to speak when a brown-belt karate expert chops your throat and then kicks you in your balls.
His friends scatter like the rats they are just as he falls to his knees at my feet, groaning in pain as he cradles his nuts.
Stepping around his broken body, I get in the last jab. “I hope you’ve enjoyed your lesson in proper etiquette when speaking with a lady. Now fuck off.”
There is no way for me to hide the grin that comes to my face as I walk away down the long hallway toward Atlas’s room. I listen to make sure none of his friends try to come after me, but they are too busy trying to peel the asshole off the floor.
I’m just about to Atlas’s room when a door farther down the hall opens and Dex Cohen, the owner of The Whitney, comes out into the hall. And that’s when it dawns on me that of course he’d have security cameras all over this floor, considering who he chooses to do business with. The fact that he’s got a grin on his face even larger than mine is my only clue that he isn’t angry that I’d just assaulted one of his guests.
I’m just about to say hello when Atlas steps out of the same room, standing next to Dex. Our eyes meet just as I come to a halt outside of his room. Unlike the humor I see in Dex’s face, Atlas is looking at me with the strangest mix of concern and dare I say—pride?
“That was quite the show,” Atlas finally says after the three of us stand there awkwardly.
“The asshole deserved it.”
“I’m sure he did,” Dex chimes in before casually taking a sip of the amber booze in the rock glass in his hand.
Looking back at Atlas I add, “And you’re next. You went too far. I want my stuff back.”
This is good. While I don’t normally care to air my dirty laundry in front of an audience, Dex Cohen isn’t just any audience and confronting Atlas in the hall was certainly safer than being behind closed doors alone.
He has the nerve to smile before throwing back his head and downing the rest of his drink in one big gulp. Handing his glass to his friend, Atlas moves in my direction, but I take a step back.
“Come on. After that display down the hall? You can’t possibly be afraid of me?” The predatory grin on his face taunts me. He knows damn well what I’m afraid of when he’s around.
Smiling, I banter back. “You don’t scare me and my Glock at all,” I say, patting my purse for good measure.
Atlas’s eyes widen, but it’s Dex who warns me. “I know things are getting a bit—explosive — between you two, but I’m warning you right now, Valentina. You discharge a firearm in The Whitney and all privileges will be revoked.”
It’s clear from both men’s demeanor and Dex’s exaggerated use of the word explosive that Atlas has been running his mouth about our little encounter the last time I was here.
Fucker.
I don’t know why his indiscretion bothers me, but it does. I have to fight so hard to be taken seriously as it is. I don’t need men like Dex Cohen thinking I’m just another pretty face sleeping her way up the ladder.
“If you boys are done with your locker room talk, I’d very much like to retrieve my items and leave.”
“Of course,” Atlas says as he opens his door. “Come on in.”
“I’ll wait here in the hall. Bring them out to me.”
He’s standing inside his room, the door propped open. “And where’s the fun in that? You want ‘em, come and get ‘em.”
I hate that my tummy flutters at the sight of his too-handsome face in that sexy smile of his. Glorious memories of watching him coming while pleasuring me try to push in, but I reject them.
