Page 74 of His Fury

“Okay then,” he mumbled but didn’t argue.

I leaned back in my chair, my fingers tapping slowly against the armrest. My mind was not fully on the threat but rather on the memory from last night in the living room when I entered the loft and saw her curled up on the couch,wearing my hoodie, her legs tucked under her, and the glass of wine she never finished.

Her voice had been steady as she told me what happened—but her hands had shook. Not big, visible tremors but just enough for me to see it when she thought I wasn’t looking. When she was done, she’d reached for my hand like it was the most natural thing in the world.

And fuck, if it didn’t feel like it was.

I’d pulled her gently off the couch so she was standing in between my legs, and she’d stood there as I unbuttoned her pants, pushing them over and down her hips. Her panties had followed, and I’d carried her to the bed and spent the next hour making her forget that sense of fear.

Later, after we’d both gone quiet, she’d curled into me, leaning her head against my shoulder. We didn’t speak. We didn’t need to. Her breathing had slowed, and mine had matched it.

She’d fallen asleep like that. I’d held her for a while, just holding her. Then I got up, got dressed, and woke her. I drove her to the house and put her to bed, reassuring her I wouldn’t be too late.

Then I’d come back to Elixir and carried on my normal routine, ever watchful for those who might be paying too much attention to me.

I didn’t realize I’d zoned out until Rye’s voice pulled me back. “The order of that expensive vodka you love so much came through,” he told me. “Did you get the receipts?”

“Yeah,” I answered honestly, glad of normal work talk, knowing he had heard my warning last time. “How the fuck she sells that shit to anyone at full price is beyond me. Tastes like fucking bleach.”

Rye grinned. “She tells them you stock it in your clubs.”

That actually made me smile. “She always was one to use her connections to her advantage.”

Rye grunted in agreement. I looked up and saw him watching me. He tapped the list. “I’ll tighten the leash.”

I watched him leave, then leaned forward, resting my elbows on the desk. I had enemies. Plenty. But now I had something I’d never had before.

A weakness.

And her name was Isla Wells.

With a sigh, I returned to watching the footage from The Grand. Their CCTV was limited. Anyone with an ounce of sense could easily bypass the cameras and move around the hotel unseen. I hadn’t caught sight of Jayden once. Lucky for him.

Isla, however, practically lit up the screen. She was clueless as to what she needed to do to avoid attention. In truth, any one of the guests in the hotel who had crossed her path yesterday had kept their eyes on her too long. Whether by design or fascination.

My girl was beautiful, and I didn’t enjoy other people appreciating the same fact.

I knew I’d be a possessive bastard when it came to her, but it surprised me how deep that ran as I made note of the faces of the people whose eyes dipped lower than chin level. The ones who kept their eyes trained on her ass I also took note of.

I’d been accused of many things in my life, most of them true.Suspicious bastardwas one I heard all too often, usually from Rye. But I didn’t like coincidences. Especially not the kind that involved Isla.

My fingers drummed off the armrest as I watched the footage, and my mind turned over my thoughts.

I picked up my phone and dialed. I didn’t have to think about the number. I knew it by heart.

“Yeah?” answered the person on the other end.

“I want eyes on Julian Turner,” I said without preamble. “Full detail. Discreet. I want to know who he’s seeing, what he’s spending, and where he’s spending it. If he so much as sneezes near someone on Patrick Delaney’s radar, I want to know.”

Silence. And then they asked, “Usual fee?”

“Usual fee,” I confirmed.

“Copy that.”

I hung up.

Julian. Proving to be a thorn in my side even after his debt had been paid.

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