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Nate
Stay where you are.
I tuck my phone away and turn my attention back to the racks. Adrian isn't ruining the shopping spree my men paid for.
“I think you forget I've known Nathaniel longer than you've been in his orbit.” I blink as I realizes he's still talking. “I've watched him consume people before. I also know that once you are of no use to him, he will discard you without a second thought. I've seen it happen before. “
"You don't know anything about what's happening between us."
He shrugs. “You’re useful to him right now. Interesting. New. Challenging. Nathaniel likes things he can solve. But do you really think he’s capable of love? He can’t even say the word.”
That gets under my skin because it’s close enough to something real to hurt. Seeing my face, Trey shifts beside me, full protection mode activated.
“Okay, you’ve officially overstayed your welcome. So now you’ve got two options: walk out that door, or limp out of it. Because at this point, this is stalking, and I’ve been looking for a legal reason to beat your ass since that creepy little shoe-store stunt.”
Adrian barely acknowledges Trey. Instead, he slips his phone from his pocket and turns the screen toward me.
“Before I go, there's something I think you should see.”
I recognize the entrance immediately. SOLAÉ's private parking garage.
The photograph shows Nate's car pulling through the security gate, the four of us barely visible through the tinted windows. A timestamp sits in the bottom corner.
It was the night they came to pick me up from the club.
My stomach tightens. “Where the hell did you get that?”
“Funny, isn't it?” Adrian says. “That one hasn't made it into the papers.”
Before I can demand an answer, the boutique door opens, and Sergio walks in with two security guards.
“Ms. Harper.” Sergio stops beside me, his expression professional. “Mr. Blackwell sent us. Are you all right?”
“Peachy,” I mutter. “Just having the time of my life.”
His attention shifts to Adrian. “Mr. Cross.”
“Sergio.” Adrian slips his phone away, his smile returning as he takes in the three men. “Nathaniel certainly doesn't waste time.”
“No, he doesn't,” Sergio replies. “Mr. Cross, I believe your conversation is over.”.
For several seconds, neither man moves. Then Adrian straightens his jacket and gives me a small, courteous nod.
“Enjoy your afternoon, Miss Harper.” He walks toward the entrance, and the guard steps aside just enough to let him pass.
Trey watches him leave. “I officially hate that man. And the only reason I haven't beaten his ass is because I'm not trying to end up on the news for assaulting a white man.”
I barely hear Trey. I'm still thinking about the photograph on Adrian's phone.
That picture wasn't taken by some paparazzo looking for a scandal. Someone had to know where to wait.
And if Adrian has access to photographs taken inside SOLAÉ's secured property, what the hell else does he have access to?
thirty-six
Terms of Disclosure
Grumpy Daddy
