Page 126 of His Fury

Rye grunted. “You’re the one who had the conversation in front of her, not me.”

We fell silent. I examined the blueprints for my new club. Inspectors were everywhere. It kept being flagged for code violations. I needed it cleared by Friday, but it seemed unlikely. I recalled seeing Julian talking to Zeper in the lower club. “Check with our contacts at town hall. This has Julian’s scent all over it.”

I turned my focus to the money drop. “This needs to move smoothly,” I said. “No delays. No attention.” I went over the designated drop-off point. “Where are we with the receipts?”

“Being printed as we speak. I changed ledgers this morning after you got back.” He leaned back in his chair, a wave of tiredness washing over him. “It will go as it always does,” Rye said, stifling a yawn. “Without a problem.”

I nodded once. But the truth sat heavy behind my ribs. It had never been harder to keep my two worlds apart. And thedeeper Isla got, the more I felt it—this creeping inevitability that something was going to crack.

Not because she was weak.

Because she was worth breaking for.

And I didn’t know yet what that meant for me.

I foundher upstairs in the bedroom, standing barefoot in front of the windows, with her tablet in one hand and a highlighter clenched between her teeth. She was squinting at a schedule and muttering under her breath. Her hair was piled high on her head. She had changed into sleep shorts and an oversized sleep shirt that had slipped off her shoulder.

It was the most Isla thing I’d ever seen, and it made my chest ache.

“You going to rewrite the entire schedule with that highlighter?” I asked quietly.

She jumped. “Jesus, Zayn.” She pulled the pen from her mouth and shot me a look. “Do you always walk like a ghost?”

“I live in the dark, remember?” I moved closer. “It’s quiet there.”

She rolled her eyes, “Drama king.” But I saw the curve of her mouth.

“I want to talk about Thursday,” I said.

She lowered the tablet, her brows knitting together. “Is this the part when you tell me you’ve changed your mind and I’m not allowed to help?”

“No,” I said. “This is the part where I make sure you understand what you’re walking into.”

Her gaze sharpened. “I’m managing two events and four VIP booths. I’m not planning a military operation. I canhandle this.” She smiled at me, full of trust. “Thisisactuallymy job, you know,” she teased.

“I know, Is,” I said, sitting at the edge of the bed. “But it doesn’t matter. Your name will be on the contact list. Your face will be the one they see. Your decisions will carry weight. This makes you part of this even if you think you’re only stepping in. You’re not.”

She crossed her arms. “You don’t think I can do this?”

I shook my head and answered honestly. “I think you’ll slip right in and be right at home.”

Her brow furrowed as she looked at me. “Then why are you so worried? I’m not scared. Not of this.”

“You shouldn’t be. Not of this.” I didn’t flinch when I said it. Her eyes flicked to the floor before returning to mine. “This world doesn’t care how smart you are or how steady. It doesn’t reward good planning or perfect schedules. It rewards survival, quick thinking, loyalty.”

“I have that.”

I gazed at her. “Yeah, you do. That’s the problem.” A moment of silence stretched between us. I reached out, brushing my fingers down the bare skin of her arm. “You don’t owe me this, Isla. You could walk away from Thursday and never look back.”

She looked up at me, her eyes soft and steely all at once. “No. I couldn’t.”

My throat tightened. I had never experienced this before. She was so damn fragile; the thought of how easily she could break was almost too much to bear.

“Just don’t try to be brave,” I said. “Be smart. If something feels wrong, walk out. I don’t give a fuck about the club. If something feels off. Get out. Call me. Call Rye. Callme. Don’t try to fix it yourself.” I looked into her eyes so she could see how much I meant it. “Okay? Youwalkout, Is.Don’t stay. I don’t give a fuck. If it spooks you, get the fuck out.”

She nodded slowly. “I won’t.”

“And if anyone steps too close?—”

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