Page 64 of Her Protector Daddies

“Half these people are probably criminals,” Tyler snorted. “I want to be this kind of rich.”

“Criminal rich?” Jay asked.

“Nah, rich enough that I have so much money I have no idea who I’m donating here. I just turn up for a good time.” Tyler’s huffed laugh sent a shiver down my spine, and I rocked my shoulders back and forth.

In the hotel room, this dress had been amazing but now, in the heat of the party with my nerves climbing, it was starting to feel more compressing than figure-hugging.

“Damn, this dress is tight,” I murmured over the lip of my glass.

“Don’t worry, we’ll tear it off you later?—.”

“Tyler!” Bailey snapped. “One more word, I swear.”

“Alright, alright,” Tyler laughed.

“Keep comms clear, please,” came the Captain’s voice, and silence fell with everyone suitably scolded. “Selena, any sign of Andrés?”

Trying to act as casually as possible, I cast my eye over the crowd. Despite the dress and my hair, I was certain every rich-blooded person in this place could tell I was cut from a poorer cloth. These men and women were dressed in clothes and jewelry that cost more than I would ever see in a lifetime. Would that work against me?

Or would it be favorable to someone like Andrés?

“No sign. What do you want me to do, walk around and see if I bump into him?”

“No,” Aubrey replied. “He’s not the type of person to mingle. He’ll come to you.”

That didn’t calm the turmoil in my chest but it did give me the chance to have a second glass of Champagne before I was approached by a man who was as broad as he was tall.

“Miss Hartley.” His deep voice sent a cold shiver curling across my shoulders as he spread one arm wide. “Mr. Dorame will see you now.”

“Excellent!” I smacked my lips together and slid from my stool.

Was that too eager? How were you supposed to act when facing down a drug lord?

I had no idea.

Following the stranger, we moved through a crowd that parted for the guard with absolutely no hesitation. It would be admirable if the situation weren’t so crazy. I pressed one hand to my corset, praying the wire underneath wouldn’t be affected by how badly I was sweating.

I was led to the darker corner of the hall and through several curtains hanging from the ceiling that sectioned off this corner from the rest of the ballroom.

“Miss. Hartley. Finally, we meet.”

The bulky guard stepped aside to reveal Andrés Dorame, and my heart punched up into my throat.

He was tall, with slicked back, jet black hair, and pale eyes that dragged lazily down my dress, lingering on my chest for longer than anyone would be comfortable with. Dressed in a white open-collar shirt with pinstripe slacks and black suspenders, he would have looked quite smart if not for the tattoos decorating his face and neck. The mean twist of his scarred lips, even as he smiled, was enough to bring my urge to run to the forefront of my mind.

“I gotta say, you scrub up well.” Andrés held out one thin hand weighed down with thick rings. I approached him slowly, and when I clasped his hand to shake it, he pulled me close enough that the stink of smoke and alcohol on his breath clogged my lungs and made my eyes water. “Marcus never told me he had a sweet thing like you hidden away.”

Reflex forced me to lift my hands to his chest and shove him away, my eyes narrowed.

“He didn’t tell us a lot of things. Get used to it.”

Everyone paused, and my heart pounded so loud and painful in my ears that an unsettling dizzy sensation washed over me.

Did I overstep?

Suddenly, Andrés broke into cracked laughter and repeatedly clapped his hands together.

“The bitch has bite!” He chuckled, then indicated to a nearby chair. “Sit. Sit.”

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