Page 27 of Her Ruin

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The soft breezetickled the hair in my ponytail, and I was glad I had seen reason at home when I was getting ready to come here and pulled my hair back into its usual ponytail.

I’d changed, but I’d still opted for professional. Black wide-legged pants, a high-neck chiffon fitted blouse, dense not see-though, paired with a black camisole beneath. My single-breasted lightweight jacket was smart but casual.

I looked like I had made minimal effort. I would never confess that I took two hours to get ready. Never.

It was eight forty-five as I approached Elixir, and with every step I took closer to the main door, I resented it even more. I hated that I had to be here.

The wide, sleek doors were open, and the faint sound of music drifted outside. I saw the two sturdy bouncers at the entrance as well as a figure I recognized. Rye watched me approach, his look appraising.

“Back so soon?” His tone was neutral, but there was amusement in his eyes.

I ignored it and wished I could ignore him. “I have a meeting with Zayn.”

Rye didn’t answer right away, and I got the distinct feeling he was looking for confirmation in his earpiece, or maybe he was just trying to make me uncomfortable.

When a smile curved his mouth upwards in a look that reminded me of the Cheshire cat, he stepped aside. “Go on in, Isla. He’s expecting you.”

I bit my tongue from calling him an ass as I walked past him and up the stairs and entered the lion’s den.

The club was busy, music pulsing, the air thick with a mix of perfume, alcohol, and the electricity of a busy club. I was severely overdressed, and it relaxed me. Looking around, I took it all in. When I came here the first time, the club wasn’t open; it was the morning, and I’d seen all the potential the space offered. Now, with dim lights, thick with bodies and excitement, I struggled to put the two together. It really was a fantastic space, so versatile, and my confidence about The Grand dipped a little. When a girl in heels who couldn’t possibly be comfortable walking in her shoes stumbled into me slightly, I reminded myself this was not the clientele I was trying to get to The Grand.

Passing the main bar, I looked around for the man I was here to see. It wasn’t dark like some nightclubs, but the lighting was subdued enough that I needed to peer into the shadows.

“Where are you?” I muttered. There was no obvious signage for an office or private staff. Scanning the floor, I watched the people dance, then lifted my eyes to the upper level to the booths. Hidden and discreet and out in the open, an illusion of exclusivity.

Was I supposed to go up there?

Glancing at my watch, I realized I was still early, and my aim for the night wasn’t to wander around Zayn’s club looking for him. I went back to the bar, found a spot in the corner against the wall, and waited.

He could find me. With all the cameras there, I had no doubt someone was watching. I knew he knew exactly where I was as soon as I walked in. The club was hot, and I contemplated taking off my jacket, but I stubbornly kept it on.

I kept my eyes on the crowd and surroundings, soaking it all in. The muted lighting, plush leather booths, and scattered high-top tables blended seamlessly. The dance floor sparkled under the array of disco balls that should have looked tacky yet instead appeared as an artful masterpiece of clever lighting. Security moved around effortlessly, blending in while remaining recognizable. Waitresses wore simple black pants and shirts and seemed to be enjoying themselves as much as the customers.

Even when it was open to the public, there was a feeling of exclusivity. I’d been in nightclubs before, but this, this was just something...extra.

A barman appeared at my side, pulling my attention from the club. “What can I get you?”

“Oh, nothing,” I told him with a smile, leaning over so he could hear me better. “I’m waiting for…someone.” He gave me a simple nod, not commenting on my stumble, and moved on to the next person.

When I turned back, Zayn was in front of me, and I instinctively jerked back, bumping my head off the wall.

I saw the brief twitch of his lips at my reaction, and I scowled at him, which only caused his smirk to grow.

“Zayn.” I greeted him with a simple nod, hoping to gather myself before I had to talk to him about why I was here.

“This way.” He turned away from me, leaving me with no choice but to follow. Zayn led me to the hidden stairs that went to the booths upstairs, and I briefly thought we were headed up. However, he took us past that, and soon I spotted a separate door. Before long, he was leading me into a cool, white corridor. I said nothing as he scanned his thumbprint at the door, and I quietly followed him into an office.

I lingered near the door as he walked past me and watched as he took a seat in front of the desk, turning to see me hovering uncertainly.

“You look tense.” His lips curled at the corners, and he looked far too amused. “Take a seat.”

He seemed entirely at ease, but his presence put me on edge. He waited until I walked to the seat across from him, watching me with a slow, unreadable gaze that made it clear who had the upper hand.

I refused to let him see my nerves, so I dropped myself into the seat across from him, refusing to comment on the fact he wasn’t sitting behind the desk and was quite obvious in his intent to make it appear that he was making me feel more comfortable, which I was failing at miserably.

“You texted me.” I folded my hands into my lap as I watched him.

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