Page 22 of Savage Promises (Quinlan Empire #2)

Lennox - February

T he next three weeks drag by, and I feel every excruciating minute, like a hot poker against my skin. Shane doesn’t call, doesn’t text, no surprise visits. No lunches. Just one single message confirming the date for the proposal event this weekend.

One week before the wedding.

I’ve reserved the entire VIP balcony. That’s when all of this becomes real.

Neve hasn’t held up her end of the bargain to make their courtship very public, so Shane is compensating with a public proposal.

I tell myself it’s for the best. This space between Shane and me is necessary. For both our sanity. And my heart. But it doesn’t feel good. It feels lonely. And after the way we connected that night, it feels wrong.

This villa is beautiful, but I can’t look at that sofa where I got naked for Shane and not drown in regret. I did this. I made things uncomfortable between us.

I try to focus on new financing proposals to snag that damn club.

With the hope of Rafael investing down the drain and in his new girlfriend’s pussy, I’ve had to get creative and rethink everything.

The sixty-day contract deadline is right around the corner, and I’m stressed I won’t be able to meet it.

Even so, my mind keeps drifting to Shane.

I know what happened was a big mistake. But him saying so out loud poured salt in a very fresh open wound.

Sipping my morning coffee, I open the villa’s front door to grab the newspaper that gets delivered every day as part of the concierge service.

Hawk, my sneaky boy, slithers past me and struts down the hall like a little Nordic explorer.

His vet bill was pricey when I picked him up.

Then I smuggled him into the villa against hotel policy.

He’s been my anchor through all of this.

Hearing his heartbeat against my chest when I sleep and his little breath on my face are the only things that put a smile on my lips.

Unfortunately, he’s also a little escape artist.

“Damn it, Hawk!” I hiss, chasing him down the hallway for the third time this week. His gray tail disappears around the corner just as the elevator dings open.

Oh no!

“Looking for this?” Luke Hart, the hotel CEO, and Shane’s brother-in-law through marriage, holds a very annoyed-looking Hawk in his hands like he’s a ticking bomb.

“Yeah. I’m sorry. I know pets aren’t allowed. But I couldn’t just get rid of him.”

Luke hands over Hawk and waves me off. “Relax, Lennox. The cat can stay. Just keep him from taking a nap inside the lobby piano again.”

Horrified, I say, “He made it downstairs?”

“Twice.” Luke leans against the wall outside my villa and crosses one leg over an ankle. “When the grocery delivery people dropped off your food.”

My cheeks heat. “God. I’m so sorry.”

“He hardly looks threatening.” Luke gets closer. “And the revolving entry doors lead right to Fifth Avenue.”

I gasp, thinking Hawk will see the trees in Central Park and dart across the busy road to climb and chase the birds. He’d get flattened.

“Thank you. I owe you,” I say, snuggling Hawk.

Luke smiles knowingly. “You and your whole family. ”

“What?”

He laughs. “Inside joke. And I meant the Quinlans. But you’re aligned with them now through your sister’s engagement. Which makes you one of them.”

“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?” I stroke Hawk’s fur while he purrs away.

“If I had a sister, I’d want her to be under the protection of the Quinlans.” Luke’s walkie-talkie crackles to life and he waves it at me. “Duty calls. Have a good day, Lennox.”

I carry Hawk back inside the villa and close the door.

Nuzzling him against my face, I say, “Yeah, I guess if I could fit, I’d hide out in a piano too instead of hanging out here alone.”

LATER THAT AFTERNOON , I drag myself out of Club Echelon to catch the last few games of Neve’s volleyball match.

I would have been here sooner but the architect for the new club dropped off a revised proposal to my office out of the blue.

He cut his fees significantly and even gave me an extension to get funding.

I spent hours pouring over the revision trying to find the catch.

But it all looked correct. Just an across-the-board slashing of costs.

He must be desperate to unload the place.

When I walk into the gymnasium, the first thing I see is Shane sitting on the bleachers and my heart goes into a free fall. He looks completely out of place in his tailored suit, surrounded by balding dads with guts wearing jeans and stained team sweatshirts.

Having trouble breathing, I just raise a hand to give a small wave. He nods back but doesn’t move to greet me. God, he can’t even be near me .

I take a seat a few rows down, keeping my distance. It’s easier this way.

Neve plays with such focus and heart, like volleyball will be her life. Like she’ll just go off to some D1 college and win championships. She’s living in a fantasy.

Then again, for all I know, Shane will let her go to college. In fact, it seems likely, since their marriage is symbolic and neither wants anything to do with the other. All I got from Shane was an icy tolerance of Neve.

Meanwhile, Shane and I have a fire between us that can rage out of control. How can the universe be so off?

In between game sets three and four, Shane makes his way to the sidelines where Neve is chatting with her teammates.

He pulls her aside, and I watch as they talk.

Or, more accurately, as Shane talks and Neve barely listens.

Her body language is dismissive, and when he looks away, she rolls her eyes.

Shane’s frustration is palpable, even from a distance. When he runs a hand through his hair, clearly at the end of his patience, I hop off my seat to step in.

“Hey,” I say brightly, slipping between them. “How’s the happy couple?”

“Fine.” Neve yanks my arm. “I have to talk to my sister, Shane.”

Uh oh.

“What’s wrong?” I ask when we’re out of earshot.

“Can you deal with that witch of a mother of his?” Neve’s words shock me.

I want to shake her, tell her she needs to get past this bitterness and grow up.

I look around and see what I’m up against. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist. All her teammates, in their cute braids and sparkly headbands, smiling and laughing, have their whole lives ahead of them.

Neve is reacting to the crushing weight of a pending marriage that will take away her freedom .

But her attitude is going to get her hurt.

“First of all, do not, and I mean ever, disrespect that man’s mother in front of Shane.” I push my face close to hers. “He might look polite, but he is no different from Dad and Garrett. You will be punished.”

“She’s been texting me wedding stuff all week.” Neve folds her arms. “Like she thinks I care.”

What started as casual indifference to her betrothal has turned into a simmering rage she is finding hard to control. And I’m caught in the middle. I see it from all sides. I have to see it more from hers. She didn’t ask for this and it’s not her fault.

It was my stupid brother’s fault. I wish she’d take it out on him. But he’s in Quinlan custody until the wedding.

Faking a smile, I say, “Please just text her back. Tell her you’re busy. Tell her you love her ideas and you trust her.”

Neve rolls her eyes again. “Yeah, I’ll get to it later.” She struts back to her team, effectively ending the conversation.

No goodbye to Shane, even.

How is Neve not even the least bit affected by him? How handsome he is? How rich and powerful? How he’s making time to show an interest in the very thing that she’s putting between them? Instead of fighting against it.

Shane ambles up to me, fists clenched. I think he’s going to snap. But before he can say anything, I touch his arm.

“Neve said she loves your mom’s ideas. I’ll text her and ask if I can help.”

“No. You’ve done enough.” His hardened gaze meets mine, still dark and hooded with anger.

The mixed messages are a slap in the face. Neve wants no part of this, and he’s pissed. I’m trying to help, and he’s pushing me away.

Just then, his phone buzzes. He glances at the screen, his expression turning cold. “I have to go.”

I barely manage a “Bye” before he’s walking away, his back impossibly straight, his shoulders rigid.

The fourth set begins, and I try to focus, but my attention keeps drifting. Shane’s absence feels heavier than his presence. It’s not until I catch movement on the sidelines that I snap back to reality.

Neve’s coach.

I’ve noticed the way he hovers over her before, but this time it’s blatant. His hand lingers on her shoulder a little too long, his smile a little too familiar.

My stomach twists with dread, knowing somehow the coach is the root of this. If only I had proof.

After the final set, where Neve’s team won the match, I wait for her near the entrance to the locker room. When she passes, I pull her aside. Roughly, my patience is gone, too.

“Is there something going on between you and your coach?” I don’t mince words.

Her eyes widen, guilt flashing across her face, but she quickly shakes her head. “No. Why... Why do you think that?”

“Because he’s always touching you, and it doesn’t look appropriate.”

“It’s nothing,” she says quickly, her tone defensive. “He’s just being supportive.”

I don’t believe her for a second.

“You’re getting married in a week and a half.” Before I can press further on her sense of timing, her teammates sweep in and pull their little star player into the locker room.

Seconds later, their post-game celebrations punctuate the silence in the corridor where I’m standing alone .

The knot in my chest tightens. Neve has her team, her games, her world. In ten days, she’ll have Shane.

The man I love.

I head out of the school alone, the echo of laughter following me like a cruel taunt. I should feel proud. Neve played incredibly tonight, and she looked so happy, laughing with her teammates as they celebrated each set’s win on the court.

But all I feel is...sick.

Something is going on.

And it is going to blow up in our faces.