Total pages in book: 163
Estimated words: 157491 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 787(@200wpm)___ 630(@250wpm)___ 525(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 157491 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 787(@200wpm)___ 630(@250wpm)___ 525(@300wpm)
“You’re not going in by yourself.”
“You can’t solve this for me.”
“I don’t even know what this is. The last time I saw you, you were literally glowing with happiness.” Palm flat, he holds out his hand. “Tell me what I can do.”
“Nothing. There’s nothing you can do. I just recently learned my husband owns a sex club.” Among other things.
“Oh fuck. I thought you knew. I thought that was why—”
“You thought I was going to get my freak on?”
“Isla.” He groans my name as though in pain. “No, I thought you’d just found out, and you wanted to rip him a new arsehole or something?”
“Tempting, but that’s not why I’m here.”
“Then what are we doing here?”
“I have to speak to my husband,” I answer simply, reaching for the door handle.
“Just wait.” Griff’s hand lands on my bare shoulder. “Don’t jump to conclusions, okay? I’ve never seen him in there.”
I pull a face, but I suppose I do seem that naïve—I am that naïve.
Griff drops his head and takes a deep breath as though the weight of the world is balanced on his shoulder. “I have never seen him in here, Isla. The man doesn’t fuck women—or men—in that place,” he says, pointing a finger at the Georgian villa lit gold by ground lights.
“Maybe he’s shy. Maybe he likes to conduct his affairs in private?”
“Or maybe and, trust me on this as someone who knows from experience, he uses this place as a source of knowledge. It’s power, and it’s leverage.” Not quite comprehending, my head cants to the side. “The people in there? Judges, politicians, senior policemen, minor royalty. They’re all in his pocket.”
“Barristers, too?”
He grins. “I would’ve worked for him without the incentive.”
Griff says incentive; others would say blackmail. “Why does he need to? Who is he?”
“That’s not a question I can answer.”
But it’s something I have to find out for myself.
My heels sink into the gravel as we make our way to the front door.
“Take my arm,” Griff instructs. “You’ll look like my guest.”
Sure enough, we’re waved through by a heavy security presence before Griffin has even pulled out his phone, which is deposited into a tiny velvet bag and then a locker.
“They didn’t ask for your phone,” he murmurs, our footsteps echoing across a black-and-white tiled floor. I instinctively clasp my tiny clutch purse under my arm, knowing what that means.
Niko knows I’m here.
We turn a corner, faced now by a wide balcony, stairs at each end curve down toward each other like two halves of a heart. People mill around, dressed as I remember from last time, some sexy, others downright ridiculous. Leather pony masks, leather rabbit ears, and horsehair tails sprouting from—
“His office is upstairs.”
“I know.” I swallow. I remember that, too. A long hallway, the carpet thick and almost silent underfoot. The watery, frightened sense of unease swilling through my stomach is also familiar, but there was excitement last time, too. I’d received a written invitation. A dark glossy card embossed with golden calligraphy swirl. It was an invitation to Niko’s birthday party.
An invitation to ruin.
I take a deep breath. I want to run away—flight, not fight—but that was the route I chose last time. Now I need to see this through.
“Come on, I’ll walk you up.”
“No.” Sliding my hand from the crook of Griff’s arm, I shake my head. “This is as far as you need to go.”
“Do you know where you’re going?” His brows pull down, but he’s clearly conflicted. I can’t blame him for preferring not to be around when I meet Van.
“Not really.” Tipping up on my toes, I press a kiss to his cheek. “Thank you. For everything.”
“I’ll go to the bar and wait for you there.”
“There’s a bar?” I’d missed that last time.
“People get thirsty,” he says with a grin.
“I appreciate it, but there’s really no need.” He sends me a look, and relief floods my system. “Okay, I would really appreciate that. But don’t wait all night. I mean…” my cheeks sting, my words and my thoughts suddenly tangled. “I just mean…”
“I get it.” His hand rests on my shoulder as he brings his gaze level with mine. “But next time, just let me bury the bodies, though, yeah?”
I laugh a little hysterically, given how close to the truth he might be. I feel his concerned gaze following me all the way up one half of the grand staircase.
“Hey gorgeous, you want some company?” As I reach the top of the stairs, a hand reaches out, fingers trailing my bare shoulder. I barely glance at the owner or the man she’s wrapped around.
“No, thank you,” I answer, carrying on along the hallway. The wallpaper has changed. How strange is it that I notice? Rooms spill off to the left and right. The doors have been repainted matte black. Some of them are closed, and some stand open. Some rooms are dark, and others are filled with light and very obvious noises carry from their interiors. Fewer people are upstairs, but those who are, are bolder in their looks. I ignore their invitations, and their suggestions. They’re ghosts I can’t hear as I draw deeper and deeper into the house.