Page 6 of Dirty Little Secrets
A woman in a silver sheath dress appears beside me. “This way, miss.”
I follow her through a winding hallway that pulses with bass-heavy music, each footstep swallowed by plush carpet. The air smells like money, jasmine, leather, and ambition.
As we approach the table, I scan the others nearby. Women draped in designer gowns. Laughter filtered through perfect teeth. Clutches glitter like diamonds under the lights.
Then I see him.
Landon.
He doesn’t smile. He doesn’t stand. He barely even acknowledges me. I’m sure it’s because he is pissed that I’m lateand I don’t care. Because my eyes are drawn to the man at the head of the table
Xaiden Drazen.
In person, he’s larger than life, his face carved from shadow and arrogance. The online photos fail to do him justice. He’s called a genius by many. MIT graduate. Billionaire. Heartbreaker. One of the most eligible bachelors in the city. Unmarried. No children. And the current owner of the company we work for, Drazen Enterprises. The X tattoo at his throat peeks out from his open collar like a brand. He doesn’t glance my way, but I feel the pull of his presence all the same.
“Mr. Drazen,” the doorman says from behind me, “your guest.”
Mr. Drazen doesn’t move. “All my guests are here.”
He wasn’t expecting me. The burn of humiliation crawls up my neck. I finally scan the table. men in expensive suits, watches that cost more than my tuition. Landon finally rises and gestures stiffly to the seat beside him. I slide in, cheeks burning with humiliation.
“We’ll talk about this later,” he mutters.
Conversation resumes around us. Something about tech mergers and app security. I don’t hear it. Not really.
I feel the heat of Mr. Drazen’s gaze before I see a server approach. He doesn’t look away from me as he speaks. “She’s late. And not on the list.”
“She’s with me,” Landon says too quickly.
Mr. Drazen arches a brow. “Next time, include her. I don’t like surprises.”
“I’m sorry,” I whisper. It was all I could manage when all I wanted to do is tell Landon how much of an asshole, he is for setting me up like this but I don’t. I can’t. Not in front of the boss.
Mr. Drazen leans forward, his voice like silk threaded with steel. “Are you hungry?”
“I’m okay.”
“I suggest you…order. This isn’t a museum. It’s a restaurant.” His voice is commanding as leans back, nothing about it welcoming.
A chuckle rises from someone across the table. I fake a smile about to pick the first thing I see on the menu.
Mr. Drazen watches me over the rim of his glass. “Red or white?”
“Red.”
“Smart girl.”
I blink. Is that approval? A jab?
His gaze flicks to my dress, then back to his drink.
The night blurs after that. Deals are made, jokes exchanged, but none of it matters. Because underneath it all, something simmers. Not just tension. Something deeper. Something territorial between Mr. Drazen and the men at the table. I shouldn’t have agreed to come. I’m the only woman at table. This was obviously a business meeting and have no idea why Landon pressed me on joining him. He didn’t introduce me properly. Not as his girlfriend but as one of his employees. He obviously doesn’t know I work for his company and its best if he didn’t.
He knows what you look like, though.
When the dessert menus arrive, I reach for my clutch. “I should go.”
“You’re leaving?” Landon hisses like I’m a child. “You’re being rude.”
