Page 28 of Torrid Passion
“You think I’m scared of you, Mr. Nobody?” Magnus smirks.
“Maybe not,” a loud voice cuts in, “but you sure as hell should be scared of me.”Larkin?I didn’t see him approaching.“In fact, you should be terrified.”
Yeah, that’s not a threat you want to hear coming from Larkin Gallagher.
Larkin lifts his iPhone to eye level and waves it.
His calculating grin indicates he caught all the action.
A flash of sheer panic veils Magnus’s eyes.
“It seems you’re trespassing on private property, Mr. Waitfield,” Larkin says. “I believe I made myself crystal clear the last time we escorted you out, you’re no longer welcome here. Should I call the police this time?”
“Err… Well…” That’s all Magnus can muster.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t catch that,” Larkin mocks.
“I’m here with my mom,” Magnus says.
“Where is she?” Larkin asks, looking around. “Parking her car?”
“Err… Well…” Magnus repeats.
What a wimp.
“Funny. We can’t pick her up anywhere on our cameras.” Larkin waves his iPhone again.Busted.“You wouldn’t be lying to me, Mr. Waitfield?” Larkin is drilling into him.
“Um…” Magnus is no longer running his mouth.
“Mr. Waitfield, you have no idea how miserable I could make your pitiful existence for showing up uninvited, lying to my face, disturbing the peace of my valued patrons, annoying one of my best customers and disrespecting a lady,” Larkin says. “Set foot in one of my establishments ever again—anywhere on this planet—and you’ll regret it, Mr. Waitfield. Same goes for the two monkeys who follow you around, and your mother,” Larkin warns. “Derek. Guy. Jason. Please take out the trash.”
With that, Larkin’s three bodyguards take care of Magnus and his goons. Of course, they make a scene as they’re being dragged out of the restaurant.
Good riddance.
“I apologize, Mr. Berkshire. Miss O’Keeffe,” Larkin says once their voices are nothing more than a low rumble.
Soon after we were seated, Larkin came around to introduce himself to my gorgeous date. He’s heard of Kyla’s father, uncles and brothers. He’s seen them at events, charity functions and galas, but not much more.
“I didn’t know Magnus Waitfield was on my property until it was too late,” Larkin says. “The last time he was here, I had him thrown out on his ass. His monkeys received the same treatment.”
“What happened?” I ask.
Larkin takes a few steps forward and leans in close. “Mr. Waitfield felt the urge to record his experience at one of ourprivateparties,” he says low enough so no one else hears.
He means at Dark Compulsion.
“Ouch.”
“It was one of those nights…”
Translation, it must’ve been a hell of a kinky party.
“I see.”
“As you know, I frown upon videos and photos. And we have this stipulation in the rules.”
“For good reasons.”
