Page 15 of Play With Me

He may not have used that exact word, but he might as well have. If he’d known anything about me before we met the other night, he would have never chased after me. His body may want me, but it’s clear his mind doesn’t.

And Anders doesn’t seem like the type of guy to let his dick rule him.

“I’m fine,” I mutter, running a hand through my hair for the umpteenth time today.

“Cara…” It jars me to hear him call me by the name I gave him, but he’s cut off as the door opens and Jackson Tailor—my other business partner—walks in. Following him is my friend and protégé, Valentina, and her husband, Tripp Kennedy—Jackson’s best friend.

“Mick should be here soon. He’s caught in traffic,” Jackson explains as he looks from me to Anders. He crosses the room, holding his hand out to him. “Jackson Tailor. I understand you’re the lead detective on the case.”

Anders sizes him up, taking in his perfectly pressed Kiton suit and shiny, polished Oxfords. It’s interesting watching him take in every little detail about Jackson in the span of a few seconds, and I wonder if it just comes with the job.

“Anderson Brooks. You’re the…other silent partner?” His eyes bounce to Jackson’s ring before flitting to me, and I know he’s wondering if Jackson and I are fucking, too.

Abso-fucking-lutely not.

Jackson seems to pick up on Anders’ assumption and chuckles as he turns to sit in one of the chairs across from my desk. “I am. I inherited the shares from my uncle when he died. My wife worked at Désirer for a little while, as well. And this one—” he jerks a thumb over his shoulder, motioning to Valentina, “is her best friend and working on taking over for Carmela.”

“Valentina Kennedy, but you can call me Lenni. Nice to meet you.” Lenni walks forward and offers Anders her hand. “This is my husband, Tripp.”

“You can call her Mrs. Kennedy,” Tripp says as he shakes hands with Anders before turning his attention to me. “We need to talk about this whole taking over thing, because I don’t really want Viv working there while there’s a murderer on the loose.”

Anders’ gaze bounces between them, confused by Tripp calling his wife by his weird nickname for her.

“I can speak for myself,” Lenni gently soothes him, putting a hand on his chest. Her guard dog deflates at her touch, relaxing into her side as he looks at her with pure worry in his eyes. It tugs at my chest, knowing just how much my friend went through before she got her happily ever after. And as much as her husband is still on my shit list for outing another member earlier this year, I appreciate that he cares for her so much.

Even if it’s a painful reminder that no one cares about me that way.

“It is concerning, though,” Lenni says gently, turning to look at me. “Have you considered shutting down for a little while? Just until this all gets sorted out?”

“I already suggested it, and she shot it down,” Anders explains, giving me a look like, ‘see? I told you it was a good idea.’

“I actually agree with Carmela,” Jackson says. “There’s a reason it was done at Désirer instead of in the victim's home, like the others.”

“She made an appearance at the show last night. We are to believe that hasn’t happened in a while, yes?” Nikolai’s silky voice fills the room, causing us all to snap our attention to the door, where he and Martin stand.

“Jesus, I didn’t even hear the door open,” Lenni says.

Anders says something under his breath. I can’t make out most of it, but I hear something that sounds like, “Silent assassins.”

“Yes,” I affirm. “I don’t always do the shows. Last night, I only opened it up. That would mean the killer was there, wouldn’t it?”

“Which means he has access to the club. We need a list of everyone who was there last night,” Anders snaps.

“Not to mention rethinking getting rid of currentsecurity and hiring new guys.” Martin and Nikolai move further into the room as Mick speaks, appearing behind them. He comes in and closes the door. There are bags under his eyes hinting that he might not have slept well last night, either. He looks tired—stressed. His already pale skin ashen against his silver-flecked hair and beard.

We always used to joke that I was the reason he ended up gray before turning fifty. Our current situation is a painful reminder that I really am the cause of most of the stress in his life. Politics is hard enough as it is, but Mick has a whole secret life he has to constantly hide as well.

“Great, gang’s all here,” Anders mumbles quietly.

“I’m not letting all our security go. We can tighten it up, but do you know how long it would take to hire all new guys? Not to mention how pissed off Morroni would be?” I’m talking about Vinny, but Mick, of course, mistakes my comment to be about Luca.

“You just want to keep your fuck buddy around, but clearly, he’s not good enough at his job since this shit happenedatthe club this time. Or was heoccupied?” Mick snaps at me.

On their own accord, my eyes shift to Anders as my cheeks warm. He raises a brow, lips pursed together in disapproval. Mick’s accusations, paired with Anders’ evident disgust, piss me off, and I hatethat there’s a part of me that’s embarrassed Mick has told everyone in this room my business.

“I’m sorry. Last time I checked, I was single. I can fuck whoever I want, whenever I want,” I bite out through clenched teeth.

“Maybe you should have a little more respect for yourself and stop spreading your legs for strangers,” Anders quips, settling against the sofa as he slings an arm across the back.

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