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I tune out most of their conversation and lean into the strong man beside me, hooking my pinkie around his and enjoying this simple but intimate grip we have on each other.
Simon throws his arm over my shoulder and tugs me toward him, replacing his pinkie with his other hand, fully enveloping my palm with his. It’s moments like this when I feel capable of overcoming anything this stupid world throws at me.
The limo comes to a stop in the Haven District in front of Cora’s favorite place.
The door opens a moment later, and Alec greets us on the other side.
Simon steps out first, assessing the vicinity, and then reaches for me.
I allow him to help me out and adjust my dress once I’m on the sidewalk.
“Are you sure I look okay?” Cora follows me and glances down at her outfit.
She's wearing a sheer black long-sleeve shirt that hangs off the shoulders, exposing a black push-up bra underneath it. Her black satin bottoms hug her curves tightly, and the heels she's wearing only makes her legs appear longer and her ass bigger. Her golden hair falls in loose waves on her shoulders.
Alec clears his throat. “You’re, uh, beautiful.” He avoids eye contact like he might be reprimanded for speaking to her.
“Thanks, Alec.” She grins and her cheeks flush red.
Simon leans in close to Alec and whispers something into his ear.
Alec nods sharply and waits for the rest of our party to exit the limo before shutting the door. He and Cora exchange a bashful glance.
Once he’s out of sight, she tells me, “He’s so cute.”
I elbow her and smile. “You’re out of his league, sweetheart.”
“Oh whatever, I don’t believe in leagues.” She weaves her arm around mine, and I ignore the ache that still radiates from the healing gunshot wound that’s covered up by a flesh color bandage our fancy in-home doctor brought over.
It blends in so well that Cora doesn’t even notice it.
The club buzzes with energy and loud music as we approach.
My heels click against the pavement, a pace matching that of my heart. Steady. Calculated. Prepared. Whatever this night brings, we will handle it together.
Completely bypassing the long fucking line outside the place, Johnny walks us straight to the doorman. The massive guy takes one look at us and opens the door, leaving an opening for Claire to step into the booming place.
We follow her in and are immediately greeted by a young kid with a clipboard. “Right this way,” he tells us.
Simon nods his approval and places his hand on the small of my back to guide me. His touch travels a bit, resting just along my hip. It’s electric and inviting and completely fucking distracting.
The worker leads us to a roped-off area. He lifts the thing to let us through and then secures it behind us.
“Shut up,” Cora says. “I’ve never been in VIP.” She spins in a circle in the open space and plops down onto the plush couch.
This girl has no idea what kind of things she's missing. If only her best friend would bite the bullet and tell her the truth about what her men do for a living, then maybe Cora could get a taste of this life, too.
“If you need anything else, don’t hesitate,” the worker tells Simon.
“Look at all these bottles.” Cora rummages through the vast selection on the table in the center of our little area. “Who’s paying for this?”
Simon rubs his neck. “I’m uh, part owner.”
“Of this entire fucking place?” She throws her arms up dramatically.
“I didn’t know that,” I whisper to him. There are so many things about each of my men that I’m unaware of. Like the fact that Dominic owns multiple homes across the country and one internationally. He has a private freaking jet, too. What kind of secrets are Coen and Magnus hiding?
“Yeah, it’s not a big deal,” Simon tells Cora. “Drink up.”
