My heart does that flip again. This time it hurts a bit more.
“It’s good to see you too, Declan.”
Rushing the words out, I move as quickly as I can. I shut the door behind me a second before my knees give out. My body sags against the deep red door, heart hammering. I can’t catch my breath.
Declan Cross.
Being in the same room with him was nothing like I expected. He remembered me.
I didn’t know he would look like that. His eyes feel like they’re burning through the door even now, but I can’t bring myself to stand upright.
Each command he gave repeats in my mind as I attempt to steady myself.
I’d like you to wear black. Don’t ever wear red again.
Inform them that the boss has requested you.
It’s a long moment before I can stand tall and straighten my dress once again. Every step takes me farther from his office, but I can feel him down there, as if something is calling for me, pulling me, tempting me and luring me back down to a place I can’t imagine ever being again.
Declan
Dark brown eyes and deep red lips flicker through my mind all night.
My fingers itch to grip her bare skin, lift her skirt up and toy with her. My cock aches, hard and desperate for relief at the thought of leaving marks on her ass. Spanking, whipping, fucking her deep and brutal.
A low groan leaves me, hating that I can’t stop watching the cameras. Not for business, just for her. Every man who glances down the top of her red satin dress might as well be begging for me to cut their fucking throats.
She will never wear that color again.
My door opens without a knock. I don’t have to look up to know it’s Jase. Taking in a steadying breath, I rip my gaze away from Braelynn’s curves and will my erection to knock it the fuck off.
Luckily, my brother’s statement is helpful in that department. “We’ve been given the list of potential leaks and it includes your girl.”
“My girl?” The back of my neck heats at what he’s said, and if my expression gives away the fear, he doesn’t seem to notice.
“Scarlet Miller,” Jase states while taking a seat in the high-back chair across from my desk. He leans forward, his fingers steepled and his elbows resting on the desk. “There’s a good chance she’s the leak.”
Heat dances along my skin. She referred Braelynn; she’s close to her. My pulse quickens.
My objection leaves me without hesitation. “She’s been here over a year.”
Jase nods, opting to lean back in the chair, his thumb tapping on the armrest. “You know how they operate. It takes time before they slip.”
I nod, meeting my brother’s gaze but not liking it.
“Do you think it’s just one?” I question, my gaze begging me to look back at the cameras, back at Braelynn as if simply seeing her will give me a yes or no to the question burning in the back of my mind.
Is she an undercover agent? Is she here to set me up?
Both God and the devil know she’s a weakness for me.
Jase shrugs a heavy shoulder. “That’s what we need you to focus on.”
“Consider it done,” I tell him.
“Do we already have surveillance?” he asks.
“Not outside of The Club. I’ll set it up.” Focusing on Miss Miller alone keeps my head clear. We’ll install surveillance and trackers on her car, her phone and her residence. Everything. “It won’t take long.”
“We have to know what she has on us,” Jase speaks and I nod, going over every step from the previous times we’ve dealt with someone who’s snitched. It never ends well for them.
“Scarlet, though?” I question him again, narrowing my eyes as I tilt my head.
“That’s what it seems like. If not her, it’s someone else here. The books were mentioned.”
A tension runs through my body. We can get away with murder easily enough, but money laundering is far more difficult.
Clearing my throat, I tell him, “I see.”
“If history is anything to go by, they’ll look into the numbers.”
My mind slips back to Braelynn as I tell my brother, “We’ll find a way to flush them out.”
My brother drones on, his voice turning to white noise as I watch the cameras and in them see Scarlet with her hand on Braelynn’s back.
There’s a sinking feeling in my chest, one that weighs my breath down, making it harder to focus, harder to think of anything other than the possibility that she’s come here to ruin me.
With my thumb resting on my bottom lip, I will her to answer me the question. Did you come here to destroy me, Braelynn?
I remember her well, the girl I used to know. But we all change, don’t we.
“I’ll get to the bottom of it,” I tell Jase, dragging my gaze away from her. “Whoever it is, they won’t be a problem for long.”
The hours drift by slowly. Jase forwarded the report he paid an officer for when he got word there was someone on the inside. It pays to have the higher-ups in your back pocket.
All we need to do is stay one step ahead of them. They may have someone watching us, but we have dozens watching them.
The black and white text on the computer screen has stared back at me, taunting me and every move I’ve made since opening the doors to The Club. According to the report, they need evidence before getting approval for a bust. The feds have an estimated timeline of six months. Which means Scarlet, and any other witnesses, need to be long gone by then so their testimony is irrelevant and, in that time, we can’t slip up.
There’s not a doubt in my mind it’s a waitress here who’s given the information in this report. There are details about deals that have gone down exclusively in the dining room upstairs. No one makes a move without our approval and the money that’s been exchanged is well documented.
Running my hand through my hair, I lean back and take a deep breath.
It’s all hearsay at this point, no proof. If there’s no hard evidence, they have to rely on witnesses. Which begs the question, which one of them is it?
A whisper tickles the back of my mind. Is Braelynn involved? I don’t believe in coincidences and the timing isn’t on her side. Scarlet was around for every one of the documented testimonies in this report. And Braelynn is guilty by association.
That doesn’t explain why I flick back over to the monitor, watching her tempting curves as she leans over the bar counter, reaching for a cocktail napkin.
A deep groan resonates in the back of my throat.
It’s late. The singer this evening is already gone, leaving a lone mic on the stage.
Three a.m. is only minutes away, and most of the waitresses have left with their chosen date for the evening. Scarlet’s laid over the lap of a man she’s been with more than once.
I don’t ask details. I don’t involve myself in what the women do. What my employees choose to do after hours is their business, not mine.
Although it doesn’t hurt my bottom line.
Clicking through the cameras, I account for each and every one of the patrons and employees.
All is well, with one exception. There is a table of three men, one of them eyeing Braelynn. Heat pricks up the back of my neck. She’s already told them the boss requested her.