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“You like this girl?” Garrick asked as they reached Ariella’s door.
Bastian raised his fist to knock, then paused. Of course, he cared about her; she was his boss’ daughter. He’d watched her grow from a string bean of a teenager to the beautiful woman she became. He’d celebrated her successes and worried over her failures.
Fuck.
He might do more than just care about her.
But it didn’t matter. She was Henry Trident’s daughter. No one was more off-limits than her.
“I’d like her to be alive when her father returns from his trip.” Bastian pounded on the door. A little yelp sounded behind the door, then scurrying. They were too high up for her to go through any bathroom windows. At least there was that.
“Then probably best to keep her away from men like Ares,” Garrick muttered as he pulled his phone out. Bastian pounded on the door again. “Hmph.”
“What?” Bastian asked.
“Speaking of the prick. Ares tried to get into the club tonight. The bouncer blocked him. He has to know Peter’s looking for him. Why would he fuck around with my club?” Garrick stuffed his phone into his jacket and pounded on the door again.
“Maybe he’s counting on the fact you dislike that limb of your family tree,” Bastian answered before banging on the door again.
“Ariella, open the door,” Bastian called through it. “If you don’t, I’m just gonna break it down.” The damn thing was made so fucking thin it wouldn’t be hard to do.
“Bastian.” Ariella’s voice came through accusatory. “Just leave me alone. I don’t need you here.”
“Stubborn girl, huh?” Garrick chuckled.
Bastian frowned.
“Ariella. Just let us inside, and we’ll talk. Just talk.” If she felt threatened, this tug of war would go on much longer. He’d seen her dig her heels in plenty of times, and he didn’t have the patience for it at the moment.
“I’m not leaving.” Ariella’s voice seeped through the door.
Bastian closed his eyes, counting to ten in his mind.
“Everything okay out here?” A man in the room across the hall stuck his head out into the hall.
“Everything’s fine,” Garrick answered him. “Our sister’s just screwing around with us.”
Bastian counted again. Sister. Fuck. He should consider her that way. Maybe the urge to finally reel her in would subside.
“Your sister?”
“Yeah,” Bastian answered, knocking on Ariella’s door again, this time softer. “C’mon, Ariella, we’re interrupting the people in the other rooms. Just let us in already.” He put on his best brotherly voice, masking the irritation he had.
“Ariella, this guy wants to get to bed. Stop making such a scene.” Garrick called to her through the door then flashed a sympathetic smile toward the older man.
Finally, the door opened.
Bastian pushed through it, marching past the restroom into the single-bed hotel room. Garrick said something to the old guy across the hall before entering and shutting the door.
“How do you keep finding me?” Ariella demanded from the window, standing with her hands fisted at her sides. She must have really thought she’d hidden well; she’d changed out of the clothes she’d been wearing at the club into a pair of pink cotton pajama shorts and a soft pink crop top. He’d been scouring the city looking for her, and here she was, getting ready for bed.
“Why do I have to keep finding you is the better question.” Bastian stopped a few feet away from him, not trusting himself to get within arm’s reach just yet.
Ariella folded her arms over her stomach. “Why did you bring him?” She jerked her chin toward Garrick, who tossed himself onto the unmade bed and threw his feet out in front of himself, hooking one ankle over the other.
“I’m how he found you.” Garrick grinned.
“You…you know each other?” She asked, flicking her now worried gaze from Garrick to Bastian.
