Page 62 of Ruin Me, Daddy

The phone he’d tucked into his pocket vibrated and he pulled it out with a grin, expecting to see Silver’s face on his screen. Even if she was pissed—which she had every right to be—he was looking forward to hearing her voice.

But it was Beckett’s face, not Silver’s that greeted him. With a flash of disappointment, he hit the button to answer the call. “Hey man. What’s up?”

“You need to get your ass to the club. Now.”

The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end at the growl in Beckett’s voice. “What’s wrong?”

“Your girl is here. And she made a new friend.”

“Who?”

“Killian O’Rourke.”

Fuck. Of all the people for Silver to cozy up to, she had to choose Killian Fucking O’Rourke. The smooth-talking head of one of the largest crime families on the east coast. “I’m on my way.”

Still clutching his phone, he strode to the front door—and blinked at the empty ring where his keys should be. “Son of a bitch!”

“What?”

“Silver must have taken my car.” Had she asked? He couldn’t remember, which only added to the guilt and fury bubbling in his veins. “I’ll have to call an Uber or something.”

“Don’t bother. My car service has a fleet over your way. I can have a car at your door in five minutes.”

Relief welled inside him, but it did nothing to ease the band of worry around his chest. “Thanks. I owe you one.”

“Nonsense. I’m going to get her away from him and find somewhere safe to stash her until you get here.” A very un-Beckett-like darkness coated his words. “I bet Braden would let me use his office as a temporary jail cell.”

“Silver’s a brat to her core. If you start telling her what to do, she’ll do the complete opposite just to spite you.” And he didn’t want to think about where that would land her. “Just keep an eye on her until I get there and don’t let them leave the club or go anywhere alone.”

“Can do. Your car should be arriving now.”

He’d just barely managed to find his wallet and get his shoes and a shirt on before the doorbell chimed. Heart pounding, he followed the driver down to the car, where he spent the next thirty minutes trying to convince himself that nothing bad could happen to her within the walls of Club BDE.

Silver

Killian was the perfect gentleman, and a charming host, but she found herself missing Ice as they made their rounds through the pit and back up to the top floor, where Killian said the themed rooms were located. His description of the medieval room had piqued her interest and a quick check with a wide-eyed Vivian had confirmed the room was empty for the evening.

But just as they neared the door, Beckett approached from the other direction, a deceptively relaxed smile on his face. Everything else about him from his purposeful stride to the tension in his shoulders said he was anything but relaxed.

What the fuck was going on?

“Silver. I see you’ve met our resident Irishman.” Beckett’s smile widened a bit, showing a flash of teeth that should have sent any man with a lick of common sense running.

Killian, however, simply smiled back. “Beckett. Lovely to see you again. I was just about to show the beautiful Silver some of the club’s themed rooms.”

“Afraid I can’t allow that, O’Rourke.”

Irritation rippled across Silver’s skin as she narrowed her eyes at Beckett. “Who died and made you king of the club?”

Something dark flickered in Beckett’s eyes, reminding Silver very forcefully that he wasn’t a man to be trifled with. It might have been enough to make her back down if she wasn’t so annoyed with him for trying to tell her what to do in the first place.

“It’s Master Beckett to you, little girl. And while I may not be king of the club, your Daddy would like me to keep an eye on you.”

Heat that was both embarrassment and fury rushed to her cheeks. Embarrassment at being scolded in front of her new friend, and fury at him for being bold enough to do so. “Ice doesn’t care what I do.”

“He very much cares that you’re making time with a mob boss.”

“What the fuck are you going on about, Master Beckett?”

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