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“Blake, I am really going to be sick,” I said more loudly. Somehow, I managed to force him back a step. I leaned my head forward, feeling the illness surge through me.
“You’re not really going to–”
And then I did.
CHAPTER30
AIDEN
This asshole Stanton had managed to convince me to take my eyes off Layla. I knew I should have stayed right where I was until she was off that dance floor and away from Blake Morten, but like an idiot, I thought,we’re in a crowded room. What can he do?
I stepped into the private back room reserved for the VIPs to meet Holly Bernstein–and when I came out two minutes later, Layla was gone.
“Relax,” Stanton said as I began searching the room for her. “I’m sure she’s in the bathroom.”
If I could have found Blake, I might have relaxed. If I’d spotted him ingratiating himself with some up-and-coming producers or talking to the Netflix executive, I could have believed Layla had just gone to the bathroom. But I circled the ballroom twice, bisecting it multiple times, and neither of them were anywhere to be seen.
Stanton had disappeared during my search, but I didn’t bother trying to find him. If he knew where Blake and Layla had gone, he wasn’t going to tell me.
Instinct propelled me out of the ballroom. Out in the hall, I had two choices. I could turn and go toward the lobby. If Blake had wanted to take Layla up to his room, that’s the way they would have gone. I started to turn that way, but something stopped me. Blake must have known that Stanton wasn’t going to be able to detain me for long. And I doubted that Layla was going with him docile as a lamb.
I turned on my heel and went the other way. I eyed a long, thin mark that turned the nap of the carpet a darker shade of royal blue than the rest. Had that come from a dragged heel? I increased my pace. If he’d taken her this way, he had limited options.
I stopped outside the first door I came to. I could tell from the dark line beneath the door that the lights were off inside. I hesitated. Had I lost my mind?Wasshe in the bathroom?
Then I heard her voice from within, faint and angry. “I’m going to be sick.”
I shoved the door open just in time to see Blake throw himself backward. I could tell by where Layla was standing, nearly doubled over, that he’d been far too close to her. Both of their faces turned toward me, their eyes squinting against the bright light streaming in from the hallway.
“Aiden!” Layla said, relieved.
“For fucks sake!” Blake yelled. He was doing what almost looked like a strange dance. Turning one foot in and dragging it on the carpet and then the other. “You got that shit all over me!”
“I guess you shouldn’t have tried to force yourself on me,” Layla yelled, wiping at her mouth with the back of her hand.
Blake sputtered, outraged. “You wanted it.”
I didn’t wait for Layla to respond. In two steps, I was on top of Blake. I had his collar in my fist, and my arm cocked back. “You son of a bitch,” I swore. I couldn’t see his smarmy face through the red haze in front of my eyes, but I knew he wasn’t smiling anymore.
“Don’t hit him, Aiden,” Layla screamed.
“Don’t you fucking dare,” Blake yelled, his voice strangled from the tight grip I had on his collar. “I’ll sue your ass.”
I knew he would, too. And considering his face was part of his fucking brand, he could probably sue for damages. I could lose everything I’d built. Hell, even if he didn’t sue, I could lose everything. Who was going to hire a marketing team that had a history of punching their clients?
It almost killed me, but I slowly unclenched my fingers. Blake stumbled back, trying to hide the fact he was gasping for air. “That’s… right,” he got out. “And for the record,” ragged inhale, “she’s lying. She wanted–”
My knuckles were through the delicate bone of his nose before he could finish his sentence. The crunch was horrible and satisfying. The feral scream that ripped from his throat even more so. I drew back my arm, ready to do it again, but he was already on the ground. All that brawn, and he couldn’t take a single punch. I let my arm relax and shook my head, disgusted.
“Aiden,” Layla breathed, horrified.
“He had it coming,” I said grimly. In the dark, I couldn’t see how bad the damage was, but the white of his shirt was rapidly being overtaken by a dark, spreading stain. I could hear wet, ragged breathing and then, very low, words that sounded like they were flecked with spit.
“You’ll regret that.”
Instantly, my elbow was back, but before I could turn his eye the color of his tuxedo jacket, there was a sound at the door, and then a wedge of light fell across us.
Optics were my job, and I knew instantly how bad these optics were. There was Blake, huddled on the ground. Layla, both hands slapped over her mouth, eyes wide and face deadly white. Me with my arm cocked, my face twisted with rage, a growl caught in my throat.
