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Sabotage. I turned the word and its implications over in my head.
“That doesn’t make sense,” I said. “Who would want to sabotage the vault to the point of committing arson?” The nightlife industry was cutthroat, but most of the players shied away from outright crimes unless they were in the mob. If theywerein the mob, the type of establishment they ran was vastly different from mine; there was no threat there.
“I have my fair share of enemies. So does Vuk. So do you.” Alex sounded bored, like we were discussing the weather instead of arson. “Hunting down the culprit will take time, but I will find them.”
Finally, there it was—a speck of icy rage that belied Alex’s outward composure. Whoever the culprit was, they were in for a world of pain once he tracked them down.
“I don’t have enemies,” I said. Competitors, sure. People who didn’t like me, absolutely. But enemies? I wasn’t in the mafia. I didn’t have people who wanted to kill me or hurt the people close to me.
“Everyone that’s rich and in the public eye has enemies, even if they don’t know it,” Alex said. He tapped his watch; it’d been ten minutes. “I’ll take care of the saboteur. You take care of repairing the damage.”
I’d forgotten about my impending decision regarding the club’s future; I’d been too distracted by Sloane and this meeting with Alex.
Kai had a point about my martyr act, but unless I discovered a way to freeze time, I would never get the club up and running by the deadline.
I told Alex as much.
“That bears no relevance to our situation,” he said, checking his watch again. “Were you not the one who told Markovic you’ll get it done, no matter what? ‘If you say no, the club will still open. If I don’t secure the vault, I’ll find another location. It’s not ideal, but business isn’t always about the ideal. It’s about getting things done, and I’ll get it done with or without you.’”
I grimaced. It was eerie hearing my conversation with another person quoted back to me verbatim.
“You wanted something of your own; well, this is your chance,” Alex said. “Unless, of course, you lied and only started the club for your inheritance. If that’s the case, I gravely misjudged you, and I do not like being wrong.” His green eyes glinted with warning. “Make a decision by noon on January first.”
He stood and left me alone in his office, his words hanging like a guillotine ready to fall.
* * *
There was nothing like being reprimanded by a man who did not give one flying fuck about you to put things into perspective quickly.
Alex may have been invested in the club, but he wasn’t personally invested me, and he’d cut straight to the heart of the matter.
He was also right. The Vault started as a necessity because of my inheritance but it quickly became a passion project. Ilikedbuilding a business. I loved the thrills, the challenges, and the creation of something that was mine. Was I really going to let an arbitrary deadline ruin that for me?
I didn’t need until January first to get my answer; I had it by the time I returned to New York later that day.
However, I held off on telling Alex; I had another, much more urgent matter to attend to. My trial period with Sloane officially ended tomorrow, and I needed to get through to her before then.
My meeting with Alex had preoccupied me enough to dull the pain of last night, but when Sloane’s office building came into view, a gut-wrenching ache resurfaced.
I want to break up.
You love me, and I don’t feel the same toward you.
The ache sharpened into a knife and twisted. Other men might’ve given up after being so thoroughly dismissed, and I would’ve had I thought she meant it. But the only thing worse than hearing those words come out of Sloane’s mouth was seeing her face when she said them. Her anguish had mirrored mine, and I hated how much hurt she had to have experienced to be so afraid of love.
Or maybe I was just fucking delusional.
Either way, it wasn’t over yet. There were minutes left until the buzzer, but I still had a chance to turn the tide and score a comeback victory. That shred of hope was the only thing that kept me going because the thought of losing Sloane…
It’s not going to happen. You won’t lose her.
I couldn’t. Not when I’d just found her. Not when losing her meant losing a crucial piece of myself in the process.
My heart pounded painfully as I entered the building, but anxiety melted into confusion when I arrived at Kensington PR and found Jillian and several junior publicists crowded outside Sloane’s office, their ears literally pressed to the door.
“What…?”
“Shh.” Jillian placed a finger over her mouth.Perry,she mouthed.
