Page 8 of His Fury

My tears spilled over, running freely down my cheeks. I had fought so hard not to let them see me cry, but the very thought that I had to call Julian and that this bastard would talk to him and threaten him with hurtingmewas too much.

I pressed call on Julian’s name. He answered on the second ring. He always did.

“Isla, did you get my texts?”

“Julian…” I started to cry.

“Isla?Isla!What is it?”

The phone was smoothly removed from my hand. “Hello, Julian. You’ve been avoiding me.” I could hear the stunned silence on the other end of the phone. The guy carried on speaking. Completely unperturbed. “You have something of mine, and now”—he turned to give me a wink—“I have something of yours.”

I felt sick. I could imagine how terrified Julian would be. My heart was racing so fast that I thought I was going to pass out.

The guy spoke again, looking me straight in the eye. “Pay your debt, or Isla pays in blood.”

He hung up just as I fainted.

CHAPTER 3

ZAYN

The club was alive,but I wasn’t really paying attention to the screens.

Elixir thrived under the low lighting and the pounding bass that made conversation a choice, not a necessity. The VIP booths were full of Gracemont’s elite—some legal, some barely skirting the law. It was exactly how I liked it.

Controlled chaos.

But I wasn’t in the mood tonight. I sat in my office, a bottle of water in my hand, staring at the monitors without really seeing anything. Knowing that I should be. This was a live stream of my empire. I needed to be paying attention, but this evening, something was off.

A tension I couldn’t shake, a weight pressing down on me like an omen. I wasn’t a superstitious guy, but it I felt like I was waiting for something to happen.

Isla texted me for the first time in weeks, wanting to know if she could come see me. I told her I wasn’t here and then sent a follow-up text. She hadn’t replied to either.

I looked at my phone, disgusted with myself that I waschecking it again, in case I had missed her text, even though my phone was never on silent.

What had she wanted to see me for? And why hadn’t she replied? Had she moved on? My hand curled into a fist at the very thought of another guy hearing that low sigh of contentment she made when the back of her neck was kissed.

“It’s been weeks,” I reminded myself bitterly. “Move on already.”

I wanted to. She had made it clear I was not for her. That the way I lived was not for her. But… I missed her.God, I was so glad Rye wasn’t here right now.He would take one look at me, declare me as “still moping,” and roll his eyes.

I was sick of his amateur dramatics.

I was tired of sulking as well. I felt just like a lovesick teenager. When it came to her, I barely recognized myself anymore.

I missed her in my bed. I missed being in her bed.

I missedher.

“You’re pathetic.” Twisting open my bottle of water, I took a drink, wondering if it was too early to start drinking, seriously drinking. Maybe if I got shit-faced, I could fuck someone else and get Isla out of my system.

The very idea of touching someone else was repugnant.

My office door got hammered on. My attention shifted from my inner wallowing to the screen, and I saw Julian outside. I hadn’t even seen him come up the stairs, which was another warning I wasn’t paying attention when that wasallI should be doing when my club was open.

I pressed the button to let him in, and the door burst open with enough force it banged off the wall. Julian stormed in like a man who had just seen death up close.

His hair was a mess, his collar was crooked, and his shirt sleeves were wrinkled and uneven like he’d been pulling atthem in frustration—or fear. His usual easygoing manner was nowhere to be found. Instead, his eyes burned with desperation, his jaw locked so tight it could crack.

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