Chapter 2

Gianna POV:

"No appointment. Don't let him up."

"Okay, I'll--"

Before the receptionist could finish, there was a scuffle on the other end. A few seconds later, her voice turned panicked: "Sorry, he's forcing his way in. We can't stop him--" The line went dead.

I stood up. Five minutes later, Jevon appeared in the PR department hallway.

He was in a suit, hair immaculate, carrying the scarf I'd left at his apartment and wearing that respectable smile he showed the world.

"Gianna, we need to talk."

"I have nothing to say to you."

"You can't call off the engagement on your own." He stepped forward and lowered his voice, his smile unchanged. "Your dad already knows. He's furious."

"He's angry?" I sneered. "He's angry that the investment is about to fall through."

Jevon sighed, in a tone of someone humoring a child. "Gianna, I know seeing those things upset you. But sometimes a man--"

"Sometimes what?" I stared at him. "Sometimes bringing a woman into our bed? Sometimes getting caught by me and grabbing the sheets to say 'it's not what you think'?"

People in the hallway slowed their steps. Jevon's smile finally cracked.

"Keep your voice down." He reached for my wrist.

I shook him off. "Don't touch me."

He reached again. A hand cut in from the side, and Kristin stepped firmly between us, blocking him.

Kristin stepped in front of me in her heels, her amber eyes sweeping coldly over Jevon.

"Jevon, you're touching my friend on my uncle's turf. Do you want to be dragged out by security, or do you want to end up on the internal blacklist?"

Jevon's mouth twitched. "Kristin, this is a private matter between Gianna and me--"

"Private matters get discussed outside. This is the office area." Kristin tilted her chin toward the end of the hallway. Two security guards were heading over.

Jevon glanced at me, then at the guards, and pulled on a respectable smile. "Fine, I'll go. Gianna, we'll talk when you've calmed down."

He turned and left. I stared after him until the corner swallowed him, only then realizing my fists were clenched.

"Thanks." I let out a breath.

"Don't mention it." Kristin pulled me into the breakroom, poured herself a glass of water, took a big gulp, then leaned against the counter and looked at me. "Why are you so pale? That scumbag Jevon isn't worth getting this angry over."

"It's not because of him." I poured a glass of water, my hand still shaking. "It's a hangover."

Kristin didn't press. After a couple of seconds of silence, she suddenly lowered her voice. "By the way, do you know why I was called up to the top floor this morning?"

My heart skipped a beat. "Why?"

"My uncle was like a raging beast this morning." She frowned as if recalling some absurd scene. "He had me pull security footage from a downtown club and asked me for last night's check-in records for the Four Seasons penthouse suite. He was like a different person, frantically searching for someone."

The cup wobbled in my hand, and water splashed out, scalding the back of my hand.

Club footage. The Four Seasons penthouse. Searching for someone.

"Gigi?" Kristin waved a hand in front of my face. "Are you okay? You really look terrible."

"I'm fine." I forced the corners of my mouth up and set the cup on the counter. "Hangover... I'm going to the restroom."

I practically fled the breakroom.

The restroom was empty. I locked myself in a stall, sat on the toilet lid, and pressed a hand to my forehead.

How much did he know? Had he seen my face? What about the note? Had he recognized it?

I closed my eyes, my mind full of the feel of his arm locked around my waist that morning and my ridiculous note pressed under the glass--"Great service. Keep the change."

I had slept with Kristin's uncle. The tyrant who could send opponents to the hospital on the ice. The Barrett family's absolute authority whose word was law.

And now he was tearing the whole city apart looking for me.