Page 141 of Unbreakable Thread

“I tried calling you several times. You didn’t answer me.” Rowan grabs my arm. “Rainey, you need to…” Rowan’s mouth hangs, the words stuck, his gaze on the man behind me.

“Get your fucking hands off her.” He steps in front of me, protectively.

“I just…wanted to talk to my daughter.” Rowan’s voice trembles. In all my years, I’ve never heard his voice sound so weak. He was the unknown number.

“She’s not yours. Get the fuck out of here before I drag you out.”

I can’t see a thing with the size of the man guarding me. He must have left. Max lifts my chin, his eyes soft as a breeze. “Did he upset you, amor?”

“No, not really. I didn’t hear him out. I was just shocked to see him. It’s been a long time.”

“How about we go home so you can rest?” Max offers, his thumb stroking the shape of my face.

“No, Max. We can stay longer. You’re having fun with the guys.”

He lifts a broad shoulder. “I talk to them all the time, Sunshine. Your health is important to me. I don’t want you stressed and overworked.”

The brush of my lips on his seems to settle his worries. We finish up the cold dinner, and the lights shine on Drake and his opponent, about to brawl in the ring. Large screens roll down from the high ceiling, reflecting the fight. The guys have their eyes on Drake. My stomach burns with acid traveling upward. Boxing makes me anxious. “That’s it, Drake,” Max yells.

A woman in a red dress pounds the table with frustration. The table shakes, water glasses trembling. A man shouts, “Get him. Corner him.” The crowd gets rowdy, shouts, and money flies in every direction, betting on a fighter. In front of the rings is a large glass container filled with money.

The hairs on the back of my neck stand like a red flag. Chills spread all over my body, and my stomach twists. Daniel stands beside the money container, flanked by his men. And among them—Carlos. Carlos’s cold gaze sweeps between Max and me. I gather it’s me he’s watching. That man hates me as if I’d taken Max from him or his bank account. Is he in need of money? Does he have to work for Daniel as Rowan did?

Max’s fingers, hardened by work yet gentle in touch, intertwine with mine. To distract myself, I trace the letters of his tattoo. Love. I lean in to inhale his muscular scent. It always calms me. It’s home. He’s my home. A part of me wants to climb onto his lap to protect him, shield him from those who use him as a weapon to fill their pockets.

Lana went to the restroom five minutes ago, and Xander seems to have disappeared. Drake won his match and is now with Leo sitting at the bar. Toby is conversing with Max about bullshit that Max doesn’t seem to be interested in. All he says is, “Mm-hm” and “Yeah, dude.” My gaze follows the vast room.

I hadn’t noticed before, but now I see them—men in identical charcoal suits positioned at strategic intervals throughout the ballroom. These men aren’t mingling or sipping champagne like the other guests. They work for Daniel; I can tell by their military posture, their backs against walls, their vigilant eyes constantly sweeping across the glittering crowd. Small flesh-colored earpieces nestle in their ears, nearly invisible unless you’re looking for them. Their lips move in whispered conversations with unseen colleagues while their hawkish gazes track every movement, every guest, every potential threat in the room. Daniel is hosting this gala. The mafia. That makes my skin crawl. I figured that much when Drake said he had to fight, but I didn’t want to believe it. I hoped I was wrong.

“What is it, tesoro?”

God, this man knows every tense muscle in my body. I guess he can feel how I’m squeezing his hand. “I see them,” I whisper.

“I know. They are in my line of vision.” His voice is steady and calm.

“Did you know they’d be here?”

“No… I mean, I figured they would. I just wasn’t sure if they’d show.”

Max lets go of my hand and drapes his arm over my shoulder, bringing me in closer.

“I think Daniel must be in charge of this event.” My voice trembles.

Max kisses my temple. “He might. But don’t worry. We’ll leave soon. Don’t show them you’re afraid. You keep your head up, and your shoulders squared.”

I’m not scared. I’m more worried they will trick Max into doing something illegal. It’s almost as if they want to own him. Not almost. They want to.

For the next hour, we stay and watch the rest of the fights. Max keeps his arm around my shoulders. His gaze never fully leaves the room.

Lana and Toby left thirty minutes ago, and the crowd mostly cleared out.

Max donated to the foundation just as the crowd cleared out around the rings. Some have left, and some couples have moved to the dance floor.

“We should dance,” I suggest. “So we don’t look like we’re running.”

Max peers around the room. His gaze finds Carlos. “Are you sure? I don’t give a shit what they think.” His gaze back on me. “I would love to dance with you only if your feet are not in pain.”

I take his outstretched hand.