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“Or worse,” I said quietly, memories of my past encounter with Dalton flooding back.
Gavin’s head snapped up, his eyes narrowing. “What do you know about Dalton?”
I sighed, leaning back in my chair. “A few years ago, he approached Gracen & McCrae about managing some of his ‘special’ investment portfolios. It didn’t take long to realize that ‘special’ meant ‘illegal.’ We turned him down flat.”
“And?” Gavin prompted.
“And suddenly, we started losing clients. Big ones. Contracts that were all but signed fell through at the last minute. It was like someone was whispering in their ears, turning them against us.”
Gavin cursed under his breath. “So he’s not above playing dirty.”
“Not even close,” I confirmed. “It took us months to recover from the damage he did. And that was just because we said no to working with him. I can’t imagine what he’d do if he actually got rejected from a business he wanted this badly.”
I watched as Gavin abruptly shot to his feet, resuming his agitated pacing. “So what the fuck do we do?” he growled, running his hands through his hair for the umpteenth time. “I can’t sell to that dirty crook, Fury. This club...” His voice cracked. “It’s more than just a business. It’s family.”
I nodded, understanding all too well. In the short time I’d been involved with Club Privé, I’d seen how much it meant to everyone who worked here. Especially Sienna.
“We fight,” I said simply. “We look for ways to shore up the club’s finances without compromising its integrity. Maybe we can find some legitimate investors to counter Dalton’s offer.”
Gavin stopped pacing, a thoughtful look on his face. “That could work. But we’d need to move fast. Dalton gave me forty-eight hours to respond to his offer.”
I whistled low. “That’s not much time.”
“No, it’s not,” Gavin agreed. “But with your financial expertise and my connections, we might just pull it off.”
We spent the next hour brainstorming ideas, from restructuring the club’s debt to reaching out to potential friendly investors.
“Gavin,” I said during a lull in the conversation. “What about the employees? Sienna, the dancers... how do we protect them if Dalton decides to play really dirty?”
Gavin gave me a long, hard look. “I thought I told you to keep things professional with Sienna. You better be careful, Fury.”
I felt my face heat up. “This isn’t about that. I’m just concerned about everyone who works here. They deserve to know what’s going on.”
Gavin sighed, rubbing his temples. “You’re right, of course. But we need to be careful about how we handle this. The last thing we need is a panic.”
I nodded, trying to ignore the way my heart raced at the mere mention of Sienna’s name.
As I stood to leave, Gavin’s words echoed in my head. Be careful with Sienna. If only he knew how careful I was trying to be. How hard I was fighting against this pull I felt towards her.
I stepped out of Gavin’s office, my mind a whirlwind of conflicting thoughts and emotions. On one hand, I was energized by the challenge ahead. Taking on Arthur Dalton wouldn’t be easy, but it was the kind of high-stakes situation that got my blood pumping. On the other hand, the thought of what might happen to Club Privé—and more specifically, to Sienna—if we failed made my stomach churn.
I made my way through the club, my mind a whirlwind from the conversation with Gavin. A flash of movement on stage snagged my attention, and I glanced up. My lungs seized, refusing to draw breath.
Sienna moved on stage, her body a living sculpture of grace and sensuality. She undulated to the pulsing beat, each motion so perfectly timed and executed it transcended mere dancing. This was art in its purest form.
Our eyes locked across the sea of bodies, and the world around me blurred into insignificance. The thundering music faded to a whisper, the crowd dissolved into mist, even the looming specter of Arthur Dalton evaporated. There was only Sienna, her gaze burning into mine, the ghost of a smile teasing at the corners of her lips.
My heart hammered against my ribs as sweat beaded on my palms. Christ, she was breathtaking. Talented. Brilliant. And completely, utterly off-limits.
Gavin’s warning reverberated in my skull: “Be careful with Sienna.” Right. Professional. I had to keep things professional. But as I stood there, rooted to the spot, I wondered if I was fighting a losing battle.
With a herculean effort, I tore my gaze away from her just as a group of rowdy patrons stumbled between us, blocking my view. It was probably for the best. I needed to focus on saving the club, not on my growing attraction to one of its employees.
I had a job to do, a club to save, and a lot of complicated feelings to sort out.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Sienna
