Page 78 of Scrooge

“Where’s Haylee?” I ask him, looking around, assuming she must be in the bathroom.

“You’re back!” Logan says, smiling, but I remain standing, looking toward the bathrooms to see if I can spot her. I grab the eye of one of my security team, and he nods as he starts to walk toward the bathrooms to check on her.

“Where is Haylee?” I ask Logan again, and he shakes his head and chuckles.

“She must be good,” he murmurs, just loud enough for me to hear.

“What do you mean?” I ask, starting to feel odd. Like I am missing a limb, not liking not having her with me, especially in a crowd like this. I know she hasn’t been looking at the media these past weeks, but I have, and she is hot property. Everyone wants to know about her and how she caught the attention of the city's most wealthy billionaire. Which means, she can’t go anywhere without security. Someone is always out to take advantage, especially in New York, and knowing Haylee like I do, she will do anything to help others. That doesn’t always end well.

“You know, you could have told me you were paying extra,” he says, sipping a whiskey, and I look at it, knowing it's at least his second one since we got here tonight.

“Extra?” Where he is going with this? “I am not paying anything,” I tell him, frowning in confusion and growing increasingly anxious about Haylee’s whereabouts.

“What? So you can have her, but not me? What the fuck, man? My money is as good as yours,” he says, and I stiffen.What the fuck did he just say?

“What’s money got to do with it?” I spit out, stepping toward him, my anger instantly ready to boil over. Something doesn’t feel right.

“You’re paying her? She is your agreement, right? The one you told me about last time we caught up.” My frown deepens before realization takes over. Fuck, I mentioned it to him last time we caught up, and I forgot.

“She is not a fucking escort. She is my fucking fiancée,” I seethe.

Logan and I have always gotten along, but I’m not a fool; I know he throws my name around. He does it to heighten his own place in this town. To get into exclusive bars like this, to build his connections. I’m reasonably sure he has even used it to his advantage to find women. It never bothered me until now. I stare at him as my muscles tense, and a sick grin comes to his face.

“We both know that this is fake, a setup, to change your profile, something to make you more likeable and, fuck, has it worked,” he says, laughing.

“You need to watch your words, Logan, and tell me where she is.” I’m barely restraining myself as I warn him. I can see a few of my security team strutting around the bar, obviously knowing something’s up. Haylee isn’t in the bathroom, so now they are looking for her in the other areas of the bar.

“Watch it? You’ve changed, man. You used to be ruthless, an asshole. Hated everyone and everything. Now? Now you are dropping money on diamond rings, helping homeless people, and fuckingsmiling. Gee, she must have a fucking fabulous pussy,” he says, chuckling to himself. I move fast as I grab his collar and lift him from his seat. His whiskey spills all over his shirt, but he is infallible as his grin widens.

“Tell me where my fucking fiancée is, Logan, or I will fucking end you.” I shake him roughly, noticing the sudden chatter around us as people catch on to what’s happening, some with their cells phones out recording. But I don’t give a fuck anymore.

“You know, all these years, I stood by you. All these years, I have waited,” he says, spit flying from his mouth, my grip getting tighter around his collar, enjoying seeing his face redden and really wanting to cut off his air supply.

“Waited?” I ask, sick of playing this fucking game, but I need to know where Haylee is so I persist.

“You had no one else in your life but me. I was the one who should be getting all your money, your billions, not the homeless fucking shelters and definitely not a hooker.”

Now I see red, barely refraining from slamming his head into the wall behind him. The way I am feeling, I’d fucking kill him.

“I have changed, Logan, but you haven’t. You never wanted to work hard. Through college, you bummed around, got other kids to do your homework, and now, all these years later, you sit on your fat ass, waiting for handouts. Waiting for your dad to retire instead of building the business with him; you can’t even get laid without dropping my name.” I really want to rip his head off.

Logan starts to laugh, and my grip tightens more. Even now, he is acting like he has the upper hand.

“One call from me, Alexander, and the whole world will know what is going on here.” He waves his phone around in his hand. “Unless, of course, we can come to our own agreement.” I swallow and shake my head. Fucking money. Everyone around me just wants money.

Except Haylee.

“You want money?” I confirm, and he smirks.

“I do… I think a hundred million should be a good start.”

“A good start?” I huff a laugh. This asshole isn’t getting a cent.

“You better start dialing then, because I am not giving you a dime. Do not contact me again. And do me a favor. When you finish that call, Logan, you better smile, because it will be the last smile you ever have, I promise you that,” I tell him before I grab his cell from his hand and throw it against the wall. It breaks into small pieces, and I push him back off me, his body slumping against the booth as he stumbles on his feet, the large amount of alcohol in his body not helping. I want to punch him, but with cell phones still aimed at us, I turn and push through the crowd, my heart racing to find Haylee. She isn’t here, I know that, and my team is already in front and behind me as we push through the crowd, our mission now clear. We filter through the front door, the flashes of cameras incessant.

“Dan?” I bark, and Dan looks at me sharply. I know by the look on his face he hasn’t seen her. I’m not sure how he hasn’t when he has been sitting out here all night.

“Sir, our team at the penthouse haven’t seen her,” my security man tells me, as I’m looking up and down the street, and I take a few deep breaths.

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