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“Understood,” I say, giving her a wink.
On the inside, I’m thrilled.
This might be exactly what I’ve been waiting for.
Her dominance, her willingness to keep things under wraps—it only makes me want her more.
The rawness of her words hits me like a punch to the gut, igniting something primal inside me.
Damn, I’ve always wanted her, and now she’s practically giving herself to me on a silver platter.
Nothing will stand in my way now.
“How long are we keeping this under wraps?” I ask, my tone huskier than I intended.
“Until I say otherwise,” she replies, a spark of dominance flickering in her eyes. It’s intoxicating, making me crave her even more.
“Got it,” I say, a smirk tugging at my lips.
She has no idea how much I love this shit—her wanting me, needing me, and the thrill of our secret.
I pick up two creams and two sugars, toss them in my coffee and swirl them around. “I’m not even gonna lie, it was nice running into you here.”
Zoe smirks sweetly, “Yeah, it was.”
Doc’s voice slices through the intimate bubble Zoe and I have created. “Spark, we need to get going.”
He strolls up, casual as ever, but his eyes are sharp, taking in everything.
“Give me a sec,” I reply, still feeling the lingering heat from my conversation with Zoe.
She’s standing there, looking like she just stepped out of a dream.
“Hey, Zoe,” Doc greets her, leaning against the counter. “How’s life treating you?”
“Could be better,” she says, shooting me a quick, secretive glance that makes my heart race. “How about you, Doc? How’s the club handling all this... brothel drama?”
Doc sighs heavily, running a hand through his short hair. “Not good. Damon’s about to lose his shit.”
“It could be worse. At least it’s not a physical attack against the club,” Zoe points out, trying to find a silver lining, though her tone suggests she knows it’s a weak one.
“You think it’s not worse, but trust me, it is,” I interject, crossing my arms over my chest. “Whoever’s behind this is trying to fuck up the club’s money. That hits us where it hurts most.”
Zoe’s eyes narrow, a thoughtful look crossing her face. “What do you think is going on?”
“There’s a theory that it’s personal,” I say slowly, measuring my words. “Someone wants to cripple us financially. And when the money stops flowing, everything else falls apart.”
She nods, absorbing my words, and I can see the wheels turning in her head.
She’s smart—one of the many reasons I’ve been drawn to her from the start.
“Who could hate you guys that much?” she asks, almost to herself, as if trying to piece together a puzzle.
Before I can answer, Doc’s phone rings, cutting through the tension.
“Hold up, gotta take this call,” he mutters, stepping away for some privacy.
I turn back to Zoe, seeing the concern etched on her face.
