The last thing I wanted was for this night to end in a brawl. The very thought of blood—even a drop—always turned my stomach. Violence wasn’t thrilling to me. It was terrifying. And yet here it was, bubbling at the surface, threatening to burst wide open in the middle of the club because of me.
“She’s at my booth, which makes her my business.”
The man in the suit didn’t raise his voice, but the authority in it sliced straight through the music, through my chest, through every frantic thought. His words were sharp, angry, challenging. “Let her go. Now.”
Lucien chuckled—a sound low, dangerous, and nothing close to amusement. It wasn’t laughter. It was a warning. The sound slithered across my skin, down my spine, cold as ice water. I could feel his rage at being challenged, taste it.
The
