Squeezing her eyes shut, she swallowed a sob and stayed locked tight on the floor while he left.
A soft melody from the radio played, an eerie interlude to the horror she had just endured, its tuneless hum creeping into the edges of her mind.
Shannon stayed frozen, hugging her knees to her chest, still, silent, almost as if she were afraid to breathe.
After a few racing heartbeats, her wet lashes peeled open and the first thing she saw made more tears fall. The whip sat inches from her face.
The very thing that had been her awakening.
And now her ruin.
28
Jamie
“Gentlemen, thanks for making the trip to Vegas.”
Benji Finka, the club owner, clinked his glass with the man seated to his left, his tone smooth and casual.
“Let’s get the business done before we bring in the entertainment,” he added.
Salt-and-pepper hair caught the light when he raised his glass, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he threw a playful glance toward the nearest woman.
Jamie tossed his phone on the glossy black surface of the table, its screen catching the neon light as it slid to a stop.
He reached for his glass, and the single ice cube inside rattled when he drained the liquor in a single long gulp.
His knee bounced with restless energy, his fingers flicking a spare coaster into the air, catching it. Every voice, every sound, every glance amplified.
Marcus shot him a knowing look. “Problem?”
Jamie methis brother’s gaze, his face a mask of calm.
“Nothing I can’t deal with.” He nudged his elbow into Marcus’s, offering a wink that said everything was under control, even if it wasn’t.
A pretty waitress arrived, her tray of drinks gliding toward them, balanced on one hand, high in the air. Sure, she had curves in all the places and thick fluttery lashes framing nice eyes, but her act was too fucking predictable.
There was no challenge, no thrill, no hunt. His gaze never wavered as her hips brushed against his arm, nor did he flinch when her ass lingered in his view, her movements deliberate as she took her time to set six shot glasses on the table, one by one.
The other men at the table eyed her every move, hanging on every inch of her exposed cleavage as she played the part.
It was all too easy.
“Gentlemen, excuse me. I need to make a call.” Jamie’s chair scraped against the floor as he stood and fixed his gold cufflinks.
Marcus grabbed his wrist before he could turn away.
“Business first,” he commanded, his grip firm. “Sit down.”
Jamie’s impatience flared, but he held it back. “I said excuse me.”
Marcus’s eyes flashed, his jaw setting, but he rose to meet his brother’s scowl without hesitation.
“We flew all this way for business,” he replied, histone colder than usual, his patience holding steady, thanks to Lana’s influence.
“It’s not always about business, mate.” If Jamie had to hear that term one more time, he’d punch the fuck out of something, or someone.
How could he focus when Shannon had ghosted him? She’d checked out his selfie and the follow up text showed she’d read it, too…and still, nothing.
