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My laughter stops.
The blood drains from my face as I glare at him, humor replaced by fury. The entire conversation with my boyfriend earlier tonight replaying in my mind.
“That fucking asshole,” I mutter to myself when I place the pieces together, realizing Brett levied the deed to the club with theone fucking manhe should not get into business with.
What an idiot. Brett is powerless against him. I’m sure Truett had some trick of charm and allure he used to get Brett to hand him everything we’ve worked to build.
“I have to go—” I say, reaching for the door handle. As soon as I get out of this office, I’m going to find Brett and tell him what a shortsighted idiot he is. And then I’m leaving.
But my hand freezes when I notice Adam focusing on something near the desk. I let my words trail off as I follow his gaze. When I notice that the thing he’s staring at is the security footage on the computer screen, my skin erupts with goose bumps.
Because the man on the screen is unmistakable. Truett Goode is currently in the club, having his way with a young woman in the VIP room.
I quickly glance back at Adam, my eyes wide and my skin burning hot with anticipation. He’s glaring at the screen, and I’m surprised there’s no actual smoke coming out of his ears.
“That motherfucker,” he grits.
The next thing I know, he’s pushing past me, marching out of the office and down the hall on a mission.
Oh fuck. Oh fuck. Oh fuck.
I’m chasing after Adam, calling his name, trying to get a grip on his arm to keep him from doing anything crazy, but there’s no stopping him.
And the neon lights at the end of the hall loom like an omen—VIP.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
He barrels past the spot where a security guardshouldbe, slipping right through the black curtain that separates the general population from the exclusive section of the club. It’s louder and darker in there, but there’s no missing the man in the booth on the other side of the room with his face buried between the legs of the woman on the table.
Adam is practically running toward him, and I can do nothing but watch and wince as he grabs the man by the collar of his shirt and tosses him out of the booth. The woman screams and the VIP room erupts in chaos.
Where the fuck are the bouncers?
My hands cover my face as Adam drags his father off the floor by his shirt and rears back his fist. There’s a look of such hatred and anger on Adam’s face as he hesitates with his arm cocked and ready to fly.
But he never sends his fist coursing toward his father’s face. Instead, he stares at him with raw emotion and pain etched into his features. It’s almost like he’s frozen in place, some sort of internal voice stopping him from doing what he so clearly wants to.
“You…”
His words hang in the air, uttered through an expression of pure hatred.
Finally,finally,the six-foot-three bouncer grabs Adam by the arm and hauls him away from Truett. I turn to find Brett and two other bouncers rushing into the room.
“What the fuck is going on?” Brett snaps with his angry eyes on me.
“Well, it looks like the new owner of our club was about to get his ass kicked.”
Brett’s expression grows tenser.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” Truett growls as he uses the edge of the table to help him get up to his feet, clearly struggling to rise. “You ungrateful little shit.”
“How could you do this?” Adam yells in anger. “To us. ToMom!”
Truett only laughs as he fixes his suit. “You’ve got a lot to learn, son.”
“Son?” I hear Brett gasp.
“How could you do this?” Adam says, still held tightly in the bouncer’s grip. “You were supposed to take it down. You made a promise to the people.”
