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“Amazing as usual, sweetheart.”
“Thank you, Lancelot.”
He gazes down at me, eyes narrowing but his lips tilting in amusement. “I have to ask. Do youactuallythink that my name is Lancelot?”
My grin widens, his good humour barely disguises his worry that I use the name he hates because I think it’s actually his. “Maybe I just see you as my knight in shing armour.”
He scoffs. “I’m no white knight, sweetheart.” I watch as he seems to hold on to that thought, all previous humour draining from his eyes, and an innate sadness taking over.
“You are to me, Lance Preston.” I kiss him sweetly, pouring as much of my love as I can into our connection.
“Let me get you home.” He takes my hand and starts to lead me out, which I’m grateful of as I need the cold air. But a voice behind us pulls us back to the busy bar.
“Mr Preston.” I turn to see a beautiful blonde woman in a no nonsense royal-blue pantsuit and this seasons latest Louboutin heels that I could only wish my parents spent hundreds on rather than a silk scarf I wouldn’t be caught dead in.
“Miss Wolfe.” Lance sounds casually curious to see the woman in front of us. I recognise the name. This is the woman he is now buying the club with, the one who runs her own gang. She looks more than capable of keeping up with the men of her world. I’m sure a look from her could bring anyone to their knees.
She smirks at his surprise and gives me a quick once over. There isn’t judgement or jealousy in her eyes, which I get from a lot of women, especially when they see me on the arm of one of my men. “You are very talented,” she tells me.
“Thank you,” I keep my voice steady and polite even though her presence is putting me on edge.
She doesn’t acknowledge me any further, turning her crystal blue gaze to Lance. “Amiri needs a couple more documents signed apparently. That’s why I’m here, you’re needed upstairs.”
Lance starts to lead me toward the staff door but I dig in my heels, just knowing that office is nearly as hot as the dancefloor. “Babe, I’m sweating. I’m going to go wait outside.”
“Elle…” he starts to argue but I place my palm over his mouth.
“I’ll stand with Tommy,” I say, knowing Brent has thoroughly checked out the bouncers so they know they’re trustworthy. “I won’t talk to strangers, and I’ll keep my wits about me. It’ll give me a chance to try and call Gray. He’s not answered any of my texts today, I think he’s pissed I couldn’t meet with him.”
I take my hand away from his lips and plant a kiss on them instead. I can tell he wants to argue some more but I don’t let him.
“Let me have a minute to myself, okay? Go sign your paperwork, I’ll meet you outside and you can take me home, having me all to yourself for the rest of the night.”
He concedes with a smile and a peck on my cheek before joining his pretty peer. They walk away but I catch her sly laugh as she says. “Men are so easy to sway.”
I head outside, thankful for the crisp evening air making my jumper far less prickly against my sweaty skin. Tommy is having a heated conversation with a couple of men who seem to be trying to get into the club without paying the entrance fee. He gives me a nod of acknowledgement as I pass but goes back to his situation. I lean against the club wall just a few feet away and pull out my phone, calling Gray’s number—straight to voicemail.
“Hey you. I’m really sorry I couldn’t see you last week. There’s some shit going on that I can’t really talk about, but I haven’t forgotten about you. I miss you, bitch. Give me a call, okay? Love you.”
I slip my phone into my back pocket just as a blacked out sleek looking sedan pulls up at the curb. From the driver’s door,a huge guy unfolds himself to stand on the pavement. He’s tall and broad, his skin gnarly with age and an old mis-healed scar slashing diagonally across his face, his lips already pulled into a sneer. As soon as he leaves his vehicle, his eyes meet mine and a red alert sounds through my brain. My stomach sinks as he walks over to me, stopping a polite distance away, holding his hands in front of him. He attempts a smile, that leaves me cold.
“Miss Maxwell. My employer requests an audience with you. If you could please hop in, I’ll take you.”
I glance at Tommy but his back is to me as he still argues with the increasingly rowdy men. Looking back at the man in front of me, I note his cruel smirk as he seems to take delight in my discomfort.
“Who exactly is your employer?” I try to delay him until Lance gets here.
His smirk widens into a cold, unfeeling smile. “Sydney Preston.”
Aaaaaand my heart has stops.
“I would advise moving quickly, little girl.” His voice is lower now and the polite façade dropped. “Mr Preston does not like to wait.”
“Why would I just willingly go with you?”
His smile grows like he was waiting for me to ask that question. “How’s your roommate?”
Panic sets in. “Why?”
