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Adam presses a button on the table, his gaze still holding mine. The door behind us opens, and a man walks in. "There is a message for Miss Rose from Mr. Norman Moore. It's tasked as urgent."
My head swivels around. "What is it?"
The man looks slightly uncomfortable. "He's ordered you to return to the office immediately."
From the look on his face, that's not all.
"What else?" I get to my feet.
He refuses to meet my gaze. "I'd rather not say. But perhaps you should return."
The staff at this club are very well trained to keep their opinions to themselves. For this staff member to break protocol, Norman must have said something ghastly. I don't want to have him repeat it in front of Adam, so I just give him a terse smile. "Thank you."
I've just taken one step when Adam's hand curls around my wrist. When I turn to look at him, his expression is tight. "Don't go."
"Excuse me?" I give him a startled look.
"Don't go." He looks tense.
"I've been call––"
"You're not a dog that has to run every time Norman calls you," Adam snarls.
I flinch at his harsh words, but that's exactly what I am. An enslaved dog to the Moore family.
I pull my hand away, feeling small and worthless. "I have to go."
He glares at me, but the anger in his eyes doesn't faze me. I've seen worse fury and have survived it. What is he going to do? Hit me because I'm not obeying him?
When he gets to his feet, I can't stop myself from flinching.
He notices the movement, and his gaze narrows. "What was that?"
"Nothing." I turn around, suddenly feeling ashamed of my own reaction.
I hear the chair scrape against the ground and then Adam says, "I'll walk you out."
The staff member immediately jerks his head up, and for a moment, he looks terrified, "I-I can do that, sir. You don't need to bother."
"Excuse me?" All the previous warmth that had been in Adam's voice vanishes as he looks at the man. "What do you mean by 'bother'?"
"I…" He looks like he's going to piss himself.
What is going on?
"I can go by myself," I say. "I just need my phone."
"I'll be walking down with you." Adam's voice is hard.
It's a stupid thing to argue over, and I'm just about to let the matter be when the staff member presses again. "I can do that, sir."
"Do we have a problem?" Adam's voice is wintery cold. "Since when has the staff at Dilante house become so presumptuous?"
"N-No, sir," the man stammers, his face white.
"What's your name?" Adam demands.
"Stop it," I hiss at him. "You're going to frighten him into a heart attack. Leave him be. He was probably trying to be polite."
