NICK’S POV
I pulled into the mall parking lot with Miguel riding shotgun, tension coiling tight in my stomach. Without wasting a second, we made our way through the glass doors and headed straight for the boutique section.
And just like it had been reported, Jane was inside making a damn scene.
Two bulky security guys stood outside the boutique door like some kind of budget Avengers, arms crossed, faces tight.
The moment they saw me, both straightened.
“Good afternoon, sir,” one of them said, his voice a little too formal for a guy guarding a clothing store.
I gave them a quick nod. “What the hell is going on in there?”
The one on the left, bigger, face like a loaf of bread, answered. “Sir… she’s making a scene. Miss Alison insisted we don’t open the door or let any customers in unt
