Page 18 of Worthy: Cassius and Faith 3

“Do not speak to me unless I give you permission,” Tate said testily. “And while you’re waiting for that permission, make yourself useful and get me another drink. Jameson. Neat.”

“Of course,” he said and bowed. “I’ll be right back, my queen.”

“Seriously?” Tate gave him side-eye. “Did I give you permission to address me?”

He meekly shook his head, and she snorted as he scuttled off to the bar.

“I’ll make you my queen for an hour,” Darren said, immediately nuzzling my ear. Apparently, Darren Payne wasn’t much for small talk. His hot breath made my skin crawl. But I stood still, smile intact. I clutched my Shirley Temple so hard I was surprised the glass didn’t shatter.

“Let’s take this to a private room, shall we?” Darren said. He rubbed his erection up against me. “You’re getting me all worked up in that outfit. I’ve wanted you since the other night.”

“Thank you,” I said, even though it wasn’t exactly a compliment.

“You’re practically a virgin, right?”

I swallowed hard. “R-Right.”

He smiled, and it was not a nice smile. “Then I’m sure there’s still a thing or two I can teach you.”

He started dragging me away, but Tate stepped in front of us. “I need my girl for one minute.”

Darren scowled at her. “She’s busy.”

Tate arched an eyebrow. “We’ll be quick. Don’t make me take my whip out,” she teased, and he released me.

She hustled me through the crowd to the bathroom. Many patrons called her name, eager for her attention, but she ignored them. “What are you doing?” I asked.

“Getting you away from that creep,” she said. “He treated Mia like a chew toy the other night. I’m not letting that happen to you.”

“I’m not letting that happen, either.” Cassius Blackwood appeared out of nowhere, blocking our path. He nodded at Tate. “I’ve got it from here, thank you.”

She eyed him, then turned to me. “You okay with this?” she asked.

“Yes,” I said. I wasn’t sure if I meant it.

“Okay—I’ll be at the bar if you need me.” Tate slipped away.

Cassius glared at me. His hands were clenched into fists, his eyes wild. He’d look like a felon if he weren’t wearing a custom suit—an angry, half-out-of-his-mind felon.

“What are you doing?” I asked him.

Instead of answering, he grabbed my wrist and pulled me into an office. He slammed the door behind us. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing, Faith?”

“What?” My heart hammered in my chest. “Nothing! I came down here tonight because I’m supposed to?—”

“What the fuck are you wearing?” Cassius’s eyes flashed as they raked over my teddy.

I looked down at myself, then threw up my hands. “Lingerie! All the girls wear it?—”

“You’re not going to fucking dress like that around these piranhas?—”

“What are you talking about? These ‘piranhas’ are your patrons?—”

“And you were going to a private room with Darren fucking Payne?” he roared. “Over my dead body!”

“How do you even know that?” I cried.

“Because I’m watching you.” He jerked his thumb toward a row of security feeds behind him, which showed every inch of the club on video.

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