Page 72 of Scarred Heir
“They’re going to renovate.”
Once we were inside, I peered around, trying to locate Milo through the throngs of trendy clubbers.
“There’s a bar back here.” The man pointed down the hall. “It’s less crowded.”
“Do you come here often?” I followed him, but I had no intention of having a drink with him. As soon as we got out of the horde I wanted to text Milo and tell him I was here. Coming to the club wasn’t my brightest idea.
“I’ve been here a few times.” He placed his hand on my back and guided me to a quieter area. “What can I get you to drink?”
“I’m sorry.” I reached in my bag for my phone. “I have to text someone.”
“The man who left you stranded outside?” He slipped my coat off and draped it over the back of the high-top barstool. “You can keep him waiting for a few minutes.”
“Really, I can’t.”
“Since you’re wearing a dress like that…” He trailed his gaze along my body, making me feel vulnerable and exposed.Why did I come here without Milo?“You must come from money, or your boyfriend does.”
“I appreciate your assistance with getting in.” I flung my coat over my arm. “But I really have to go.”
“What about our drink?” He caught my wrist before I could leave.
“I don’t think so.”
“At least tell me your name.” He grinned. “You owe me that much.”
I hesitated, but the quicker I indulged him, the faster I could get to Milo. “Sable.”
“Lovely.” He tightened his hold on my wrist. “I’m Diego.”
“It’s nice to meet you, but I have to go.” I twisted my arm, trying to get him to release me. My heart rate sped up when he didn’t take the hint. “Let go of me.”
“Not until you agree to have a drink.” He nudged me toward the chair. “I promise I can hold an interesting conversation.”
“I said I don’t want?—”
“Get your fucking hands off her.” Milo wedged himself between me and Diego, and then rammed him into the wall.
“Milo!” I touched his shoulder, but he shrugged away from me and went after the man who wanted to buy me a drink. “You don’t have to?—”
Milo’s fist connected with Diego’s jaw as Ricardo jostled me behind him, shielding me from harm’s way.
“Ricardo,” I said. “It’s my fault. I let him escort me in. He didn’t know I’m with Milo. Please stop him.” I didn’t want to witness another incident with Milo’s knife. Or worse, his gun.
“No one, with the exception of his father or brother, can stop Milo when he’s like this.” Ricardo backed me away from the commotion. “Trust me, that man deserves the beating.”
My legs quivered when Milo took a hit. Was it possible to have sympathy pains in my jaw? I swore I felt the impact of Diego’s fist connecting with Milo’s face.
Milo got the final three jabs in before his men picked Diego off the floor. Diego wiped the blood from hismouth, and then shook out the hand that he had hit Milo with.
“Obviously,” Diego said, “an introduction isn’t necessary, Mr. Accetti.”
“Milo.” I stepped around Ricardo. “The line was really long, and I wanted to get in to see you. He helped me. He had no idea we were together.”
“Ricardo.” Milo didn’t look at me when he spoke. “Get her out of here.”
“Sable.” Diego smirked. “This is the man you were meeting? The one who let you fend for yourself outside?” He clicked his tongue. “You deserve better.”
Leaving the penthouse was a poor choice. But accepting assistance from this man could prove to be one of the worst decisions I ever made.
