Page 181 of Nanny and the Beast

No.

I can’t go there.

Because if everything between us was a lie, it means it’s the end of the only dream I’ve ever had.

“Impossible,” I whisper.

“She’s here right now,” Alaric says, leaning forward to take my hand. I pull away before he can touch me.“She’s working a shift tonight.”

The sheer thought of Emma with another man makes me want to set this whole building on fire. I want to set the whole world on fire just to watch it burn.

I walk toward the bar and order a whiskey. Alaric follows behind me, but I don’t hear a single word he says. The thoughts in my head bounce around in my skull.

Alaric clasps my shoulder, forcing me to turn toward him.

The chaos is back now, stronger than ever before. Pain sinks its claws into me, becoming a part of me. The static in my head is too loud.

He reads my face and drops his hand.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” he says. “I didn’t know how else to tell you, man. I’ve been putting off this conversation for days, but I thought it’s something you should know before asking for her hand in marriage.”

I throw my drink back, savoring the burn.

“I think you’re mistaken,” I say slowly. “It was probably someone else.”

“Maybe you should speak with Emma about it,” he says. “Communication is key in a relationship.”

“She’s out with her friends,” I say. “She doesn’t work at this club.”

All I’ll have to do is check her location on my phone.My security team will also have updates on her whereabouts.

“Look, she probably has her reasons, man,” Alaric says. “And I don’t think she did anything to hurt you.”

I keep my eyes on the crystal tumbler as it’s refilled. I quietly finish my drink and step away from the bar.

“Don’t follow me.” I look over my shoulder at him. “I need to be alone for a while.”

For once, he listens to me.

The noise in my head is calmer now. I can’t allow myself to get all worked up about something that might not even be true. People make mistakes all the time. Alaric is simply mistaken.

That’s the only possible explanation.

Even as I tell myself this, my eyes search the club for someone. I spot her in the crowd almost immediately. She’s standing by the piano, deep in conversation with someone. The music winds itself around me, tugging me closer toward her.

Her eyes widen when she sees me.

“Mr. Sinclair,” she says.

“We need to talk,” I say.

She frowns at my tone but doesn’t look entirely surprised by it. She excuses herself from the conversation.

“What can I do for you, Mr. Sinclair?” she asks.

I don’t even know how to begin to ask the question. Instead of speaking, I just stare at her. Victoria Hendricks. She’s not just the owner of Elysium. She also runs the nanny agency that sent Emma to my door.

“Would you like to speak in private?” she asks.

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