Page 41 of Taint My Soul

He hasn’t been to work in two days.

I haven’t seen him in two days.

I have not breathed his scent for two fucking days.

I can’t sit here and sulk through the night. I need to get him off my mind by any means possible, even if it means spending the night here and getting drunk in a private booth at the strip club.

I leave the suite, and the elevator takes me to the floor beneath the suite. As the doors open, I step into the hall, lit in deep hues of purple. I move through the security, and they smile at me before they lead me toward the spiral staircase that opens into the VIP booth. A few people are occupying the space. Several women sit on the men’s laps as they vibe to the music and drink from their expensive bottles of champagne.

“Find somewhere else to sit.” I declare over the music.

The group doesn’t argue; instead, they pick up their things and file down the stairs. “Staff will be with you shortly.” I settle into the black leather cushion and watch as the club comes to life on the floor beneath me.

But even my focus isn’t enough to drown out my thoughts and worries.

Duties. Duties. Duties.

That’s all I have ever done.

Not lived for myself, but for the family. Followed everything my parents had taught me. Kept enemies at arm’s length and friends a bit close. But it’s beginning to prove insufficient.

A young woman in a purple microkini and six-inch heels appears from the stairs and sets a bottle of red wine and a glass on the round table.

“Thank you,” I mutter under my breath.

“Is there anything else you want, sir?” She asks seductively, hands running over her skin.

“No, everything’s good here. You can leave.”

“Alright.” She turns on her heels and struts away.

The night starts young when I open the bottle and fill my glass with wine. By the time I’m halfway through the bottle, I’m leaning over the balcony, watching the women dance on the platform. That’s where I spot a familiar person in the crowd. He’s pushing through the bodies, face set in a mix of anger and fear. It looks like he’s heading toward the elevator.

It’s Mason.

My heart flutters with warmth, but I shut it down only for it to become a failed attempt.

That’s when I spot some other guy following him. Is that Kurt? What the fuck is he doing here? If firing him from the office didn’t make him understand that Mason was off-limits, then maybe I have to teach him a lesson.

I finish my last glass of red wine, then I head downstairs, walking past security to the elevator. I step out into the cool night breeze outside the building and hear arguing voices in the dark corner of the building. I move toward the source, but I stop at the turn. Kurt has Mason’s backed against the wall. “You’ll pay for this. I lost my job because of you.”

“And you followed me here so I can do what? Get it back for you? You lost your job because you’re incompetent and unprofessional.” Mason spits back. Kurt groans and grabs him, shoving him against the wall.

The muscles in my jaw jump once before I go unnaturally still. My fingers clench at my side as unbearable rage surges through my veins.

He put his hand on him.

How fucking dare he?

He’ll pay for this.

I won’t wait a day or even hours. He’ll pay for this now.

Before I can step out of the shadows, Mason grunts and shoves him back, and the weakling falls on his ass, shock appearing on his face as he watches Mason.

“If you ever come back here again…” He doesn’t finish the threat.

I have never seen this part of Mason before. But honestly I’m not surprised. I like it. It’s different. More dangerous. More lethal.