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I stare out over the pedestrians strolling the street. I wish he’d confided in me sooner. “If you decide it’s something, you’ll tell the team?”
He frowns. “I don’t know, Harry. People will talk.”
“People will always talk.”
He shifts forward, rising, and I lay a hand on his arm before he can. I can’t help feeling protective of him.
“I don’t want them talking about you, but if they do? I’ll put them right.”
“Send an army of twerking robots after them,” he replies, deadpan.
I laugh, and he joins in after a moment.
We’ll get through this. I feel that possibility for the first time.
A call comes in, and the name lifts my spirits more.
“Hello, love,” I say when I answer. “My brother is with me. Thought I’d let you know before you start talking about how good I was last night.”
It’s Sebastian’s turn to snort.
“So, please, don’t be shy. Let’s set the record straight on which King is the best lover. I’ll even put you on speaker.” I hit the button, grinning, but there’s nothing at the other end.
Finally, Raegan’s voice comes over the phone. “Harrison, the woman we took from Bliss to the hospital after she overdosed? I asked the doctors to let me know if her condition changed, but hadn’t heard anything, so I went by the hospital. I figured we could find out if she saw anything that would help us.”
I don’t love the idea of her playing investigator, but I go with it. “And?”
“Her condition changed. She’s dead.”
* * *
RAE
After playing Debajo and spending the rest of the night with Harrison, I was riding a high until I got word of the woman’s death.
She was a stranger, but Harrison’s fury and grief over her death proves how far he’s come since I met him. I can’t picture the man he is now turning his back on people, even ones he has no responsibility for.
But when Harrison called a meeting for Leni, Ash, himself, and me at the villa, he was in control once again.
“He’s getting reckless, pushing bad supply through clubs that don’t even belong to him,” Harrison says, seated at the head of the table. “I want you all to be careful.”
Leni devours the spread Natalia fixed for us on short notice—fresh sandwiches on ciabatta with pastries for dessert. Plus wine, which Ash avoids looking at.
“Fine. So we lie low,” Leni says. “All I care about is that Mischa stays away from your venues. But what are you going to do?”
“Find a way to stop him. I spoke with Christian,” Harrison says. “He’s out of the game, and even he won’t cross Mischa. But there has to be someone who’ll talk. We just haven’t found them yet.”
Harrison rises from his chair and crosses behind mine. His strong hands move my hair before going to work on the knot of tension between my shoulders. It feels way too good, and I swallow the groan.
“Am I the only person who’s not worried about what we do next?” Ash tears into his sandwich, and a few crumbs fall to the floor.
Harrison’s hands still on my shoulders. “If this conversation bores you, then you can leave.”
“That’s not what I meant. I’m worried about what he’ll do next.” Ash leans his elbows on the table, his jaw tightening. “If Interpol raided his club in London, even if they found nothing, you think he doesn’t know? You think he’s not pissed?”
Silence falls over the room.
Until a phone ringing makes us all jump.
