Chapter 12 Twelve
Kian.
I pulled the car outside NYX, the neon sign shining against the night sky. The engine hummed to a stop, and I sat there for a beat, gripping the wheel tighter than necessary.
What the fuck had I been thinking back at the apartment? Insane. That’s the only word that fits. I had seen Fianna in outfits that made that black two-piece look like a nun’s habit, back in the day, when she would parade around parties or clubs. And I always swallowed my irritation, buried it deep where it couldn’t touch the surface.
But tonight? I had snapped like a goddamn rubber band stretched too far. Why? Because she was under my roof now? My responsibility? Or was it something stupider, something I didn’t want to name?
I shook my head, killing the ignition. Get it together, Kian. I stepped out in the cool night air, and rounded the car to open her door.
She looked up at me from the passenger seat, those large eyes still sparking. “Thanks,” she muttered, swinging her legs out and standing a little too close. Her scent brushed past me, but I ignored it, scanning the lot instead.
The security team nodded as we approached the entrance, their eyes flicking over Fianna with professional detachment. Bringing her here was a risk, plain and simple. But she had looked so damn pitiful back there, and I just couldn’t say no. Five days cooped up, anyone like Fianna would crack.
Hell, I was cracking just dealing with her.
We pushed through the heavy doors, the bass thumping loudly into my chest. The crowd was thick tonight, bodies swaying under lights, the air thick with sweat and perfume. I placed a hand on the small of her back, purely to guide her through the throng, nothing more, and steered us toward the VIP stairs.
it was quieter, more controlled. Velvet ropes parted for us, and I nodded to the bouncer as we claimed a booth overlooking the dance floor.
I slid in first, expecting her to sit across, but she dropped right beside me, her thigh brushing mine for a split second before she adjusted. Close. Too close. I flagged down a server, a new girl with too much smiles.
“What can I get you, Mr. Sullivan?”
Before I could order my usual whiskey shot, Fianna leaned in, her breath warm against my ear. “Vodka shots. Three to start. And a lime chaser.”
The server glanced at me for confirmation, but I just waved her off. Let Fianna have her fun. As the girl scurried away, Fianna turned to me, her damn sweet smell assaulting my senses.
She whispered, “I love your club, Kian. It’s got that edge. I’ll definitely come often.”
I growled low in my throat, the words slipping out before I could filter them. “My club is not for you.”
She pulled back, her eyebrows shooting up. “Why the hell not?”
“Dirty things go on here,” I said, keeping my voice even, but my eyes locked on hers. “Not your scene.”
She snorted, a sharp, unladylike sound that somehow made her look even more alive. “Oh, I’m aware. But I’m only here for the party, not the underground bullshit cartel you’re running in the back.”
My jaw tightened. “Did you just call my work bullshit?”
She nodded, not backing down an inch, her lips curving into a smirk as the shots arrived on a gleaming tray. “Yep. Bullshit.”
Then she giggled, actually giggled as she lined them up, the sound light and bubbly, like the alcohol was already fizzing in her veins.
Fianna giggling over shots? She was insane. Utterly fucking insane. I watched her knock back the first one, her throat working as she swallowed, no chaser needed.
“Drink responsibly,” I growled, leaning closer, my voice rougher than I intended.
She slammed the empty glass down, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. “Shut up, Kian. Just… shut up.”
I shook my head, biting back a retort. Fine. Let her drown her boredom. But as the minutes ticked by, irritation built in my chest like a slow burn. She downed the second shot, then the third, her movements getting looser, her laughs louder at nothing in particular.
The booth felt smaller, her energy filling it up. I wanted to snatch the glasses away, tell her to slow the fuck down, but what right did I have? She wasn’t mine to control. So I sat there, my arms crossed, watching the dance floor below pulse like a living thing.
That’s when Finn appeared, weaving through the VIP crowd like a shadow. His eyes narrowed as they landed on Fianna, then flicked to me with that familiar disapproval.
“Kian,” he said, voice low but edged. “Need to see you for a minute.”