Page 33 of Her Ruin

“When do I not?”

“After my whole speech, you’re really going to let her host that gala here?”

Ah, he was pissed. Whatever. “Did I say no?”

Rye’s brows lifted. “No, but I did.”

I looked my friend over, then leaned back, my hands behind my head as I appraised him. “She’ll get her one event. Here.”

He looked away in frustration. “Why?”

“Because when Gracemont’s elite society tells their friends that Elixir was the best venue and best event they’ve ever had and they go to Isla with their demands for their event to be here, she won’t be able to deliver. Because it’s a onetime deal.”

“It’s basically free advertising?” Rye asked, his tone knowing as he finally saw the big picture.

I inhaled deeply, relishing the fact I had her exactly where I wanted her. “The best kind of advertising is word of mouth.” I thought fleetingly of Isla’s mouth, and the low heat in my veins spiked at the image of her on her knees with those luscious lips of hers wrapped around my cock.

Rye huffed out a laugh. “She’s going to hate that even more.” He gave me an appreciative glance.

Yeah. She would.

And that was half the fun.

I stood, stretching the tension from my shoulders, pushing the idea of Isla on her knees from my head. Rye watched me carefully, knowing me too well.

“She’s not like the rest of them,” he warned me quietly. “You sure you want to get mixed up with her?”

I knew Isla wasn’t like the other women I got involved with. She didn’t play games like this. She was calculated, controlled. But control was a fragile thing, and I’d seen her start to lose hers.

The way her breath hitched. The way her eyes lingered. The way she had run…

Rye saw I wasn’t listening and tried another tactic. “Julian won’t like it.” The look I gave him made him grin in defeat. “I hope you know what you’re doing, man. Fucking with her is one thing.Fuckingher is a whole different ball game.”

“She’ll be fine.”

Rye didn’t look convinced, but he didn’t push. He knew better than to question me when I had my sights set on something.

Or someone.

Shaking his head, he turned to leave, hesitating at the door. “She’s trouble.”

I exhaled a quiet laugh, and I heard his groan as he opened the door.

Yeah, she was.

But trouble?

Trouble was exactly what I liked.

The door clicked shut behind Rye, leaving me alone in the quiet hum of my office. My thoughts were on the woman who had just practically run down this corridor. She was a challenge; I liked a challenge.

And Isla wasn’t a woman who played games she didn’t think she could win.

I walked over to the small bar, which I kept hidden, not for any other reason than I didn’t want the aesthetic of my office to be messed up. Pouring myself a whiskey, I took a sip. The warm burn was smooth on my tongue, but my mind was sharper, wired from the storm Isla had left in her wake.

Letting out a slow breath, I went back to my desk, my eyes on the screens of the heart of Elixir.

From here, I could see everything—the pulse of the club, the movement, the money, and the power. The main floor was packed, bodies swaying to the deep bass, the customers leaning close to each other to be heard, the security team moving silently amongst them, their gazes watchful, the lights highlighting the controlled chaos. They came here for indulgence, for distraction, for something they couldn’t find anywhere else.

---