Page 42 of Savage Promises

When I arrive at The Sterling, Sabine greets me at the revolving doors holding a walkie-talkie. “She’s here. I put her in the VIP lounge.”

“Thanks, brat,” I say to my twin and follow her gaze toward the elevated seating tier above the bar. VIPs arefamilyonly.

Lennox sits in one of the plush chairs, looking smaller than I’d ever seen her. She’s a giant to me with her nightclub and confidence. But that Rafael prick knocked her down. Her head hangs low, one arm wrapped tightly around herself while the other hand holds a mug of tea.

I jog up the steps, my chest tightening at the sight of her. “Lennox?”

She looks up with red-rimmed eyes full of anguish. “Shane?” Breathless, she adds, “That was fast.”

“Not fast enough.” I crouch in front of her, placing a hand on her bare knee. “What happened?”

“Rafael,” she mutters barely above a whisper. “He... I caught him with someone else.”

The Marchants aren’t mafia, but a powerful Italian nuisance with ties to the Vitale family. I forced myself to ignore the connection because it wasn’t my business. But now all I feel is rage that he hurt her.

“Where did you catch him?”

“In front of his office,” she says. “He was making out with her right on the street like he didn’t care who saw him. I wanted to shirk back into the shadows, but he saw me. I stood up for myself and called him out for being anasshole.”

“Did he lay a hand on you?” I ask, my voice dangerously low.

“No.” She shakes her head. “He didn’t even come near me. He just... He said it was over. It’s his apartment, so I packed up and left. But I don’t have anywhere to go.”

Looking closer, I see a massive suitcase nearby ready to tip over. “Did you lug this all by yourself?”

“And a cat carrier,” she huffs a laugh.

“Cat?” I cringe. “What cat?”

“My cat. Hawk. I boarded him at the vet for a few days.”

I exhale and sharply snap my fingers at one of the many bellhops.

One of them meets my eyes. The recognition of who I am quickens his steps toward me. “Yes, sir?”

“Bring this suitcase to Villa 10. Right now.”

“Yes, Mr. Quinlan.”

Lennox stares as her suitcase is lifted and hauled away. “What are you doing?”

“You have somewhere to go,” I say firmly. “You’re staying here. In my old villa. It’s already been arranged.”

Her eyebrows furrow. “A villa? I can’t—”

“Yes, you can. And you will.” The determination in my voice leaves no room for argument.

“I don’t need an entire villa.” She strokes her throat.

I remove her hand and hold it. “You’ll stay in my villa for now until we figure something else out.”

“We?”

“Aye, Lennox. You’re going to be family. This is how families act when someone is in trouble.” I fold my arms across my chest. “Did you even call your father?”

She scoffs. “No.”

“No,” I repeat and lean in. “You calledme. And I don’t do anything half-assed or tentatively.”

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