CHAPTER 26.
SUMMER'S POV The club’s neon sign buzzed like an angry wasp above the staff entrance. Every step toward it sent fresh fire through my ribs and down my swollen leg. I limped badly, favoring my right side, the bruises from the beating pulsing with my heartbeat. My hoodie hid most of the damage, but nothing could mask the way I moved—like a broken doll held together by sheer stubbornness. Mr. Noel was waiting just inside, arms crossed, face carved from stone. There was no greeting nor sympathy at all. His eyes flicked over me once. It was cold and calculating, like one who sees everything as an instrument of money. “You’re late,” he said flatly. “And you look like s**t. Clean yourself up. There’s a private meeting in VIP Room 7. Mr. Robert’s orders. Don’t keep him waiting.” I swallowed t
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