Vivian's POV
A shaky chuckle bubbled up from my chest while perspiration began forming along my hairline. "What exactly are you getting at?"
I desperately needed something to occupy my mind other than dwelling on that name. His name.
Liam Simon.
Despite never laying eyes on him before, tales of his reputation had reached me all the way in Boston. Ryan had recounted countless stories describing what an ice-cold son of a bitch he was, and how every worker trembled in his presence as though he could snuff out their lives with a single glance.
But this couldn't be real.
There was absolutely no chance I'd randomly ended up at the same nightclub as my former fiance's employer.
And there was definitely no damn way his intense stare was locked entirely on me.
I glanced toward the upper level once more, and sure enough, he remained there.
Studying me like a hunter would its target.
And I was the helpless animal in his crosshairs.
Goosebumps erupted across my flesh. I grabbed the shot glass and threw back its contents, crashing it down onto the bar surface while dragging my hand across my lips.
"Another one," I ordered.
However, the bartender resolutely declined with a head shake. "Can't do it, gorgeous. I received specific instructions. You've reached your limit tonight."
My eyebrows drew together in confusion. "Instructions from who? I never said anything to you."
His grin appeared forced. "Not from you." He discretely gestured toward the staircase. "From him."
Even without turning around, I understood he meant Liam. Yet the man hadn't descended or exchanged words with anyone. "That's ridiculous," I snorted.
My words were becoming unclear now. "I never saw him approach you."
"Communication wasn't necessary."
"So what is he then? Your superior?" I mocked, my head tilting back dramatically due to my intoxicated state. "And who exactly do you two think you are, deciding when I've had sufficient alcohol?"
"He's the proprietor of this establishment, gorgeous. He signs my paychecks. And I happen to be quite fond of my kneecaps, so no additional beverages for you, sweetheart."
My jaw dropped.
CEO of a billion-dollar corporation and proprietor of an upscale nightclub? That intrigued me far more than I'd ever acknowledge.
I spun around to peer up at the mezzanine, but he had vanished.
Completely disappeared.
What a shame. I was ready to storm up those winding steps and unleash my fury on him.
I rotated back toward the bartender, but before any words could escape, a figure dressed entirely in black materialized beside me, placing an ice-cold water bottle within reach.
"Mr. Simon requests your presence."
My attention shifted to the water, then to this stranger sporting dark sunglasses.
What was with these individuals?
"Who are you supposed to be?" I mumbled. "And what kind of person wears shades indoors at night?"
"I work security for him," he stated matter-of-factly. "You'd be wise to hydrate yourself and accompany me upstairs. Mr. Simon has little patience for delays."
"Naturally, he doesn't." I burst into laughter, my eyes rolling. I hopped off the barstool with intentions of departing, but the security guard's iron grip on my forearm halted my escape.
"What the hell?" I shouted, writhing in his grasp. "Release me!"
My attempts to wrench free from his hold accomplished nothing, but after struggling futilely for what felt like forever, I ceased my resistance. He loosened his grip.
"Drink," he commanded, twisting off the bottle cap and letting it clatter before me.
I weighed my alternatives.
Should I attempt to flee, I wouldn't make it far.
Not in my current inebriated condition.
And there was no telling what consequences awaited me once he inevitably caught up.
Who could predict what Liam Simon might do to me?
Sever my limbs?
Perhaps complying and discovering his intentions would be the safer route.
Glaring daggers at the man in black, I seized the bottle, pressed it to my mouth, and consumed the water until nearly half remained.
Or was it half gone?
Christ, I was absolutely wasted.
"What's next?" I questioned with another eye roll.
"You come with me," he responded, then guided me toward the stairway. We ascended, navigated through several corridors—this place was enormous—and eventually stopped before a door marked 'VIP LOUNGE.'
"Naturally, it's VIP," I grumbled quietly.
The security guard opened the door for me, indicating I should enter. "He's inside."
My pulse hammering violently against my chest, I crossed the threshold into the lounge.
The frigid atmosphere struck me immediately. While the main club area was cool, it paled in comparison to the arctic temperature of this dimly illuminated space.
It was absolutely freezing.
And my nipples ached. I could sense them pressing against the thin fabric of my crop top.
Yet another reminder that I should have removed this outfit hours ago.
I barely had time to survey my surroundings before experiencing that familiar sensation again.
Eyes. Completely fixated on me.
The thundering bass from below couldn't drown out my heart's frantic rhythm.
I turned right—and spotted him.
Liam occupied the corner of the lounge like royalty, legs spread wide. His bearing was authoritative. But that wasn't all.
A woman knelt positioned between his thighs, her head moving rhythmically in a pattern I recognized as oral pleasure.
Yet his gaze wasn't on her.
He was observing me, still shrouded in darkness, his fingers tangled in her hair as she eagerly serviced him.
I felt mortified by my reaction. Mortified that I was pressing my thighs together, yearning for...
No. I couldn't allow such thoughts.
Liam's voice resonated smooth and rich as he commanded.
"Go."
I nearly leaped from my skin thinking he addressed me.
But he hadn't. The woman stood up, brushing against me as she hurried toward the exit.
I remained motionless, my gaze fixed on this man's silhouette as he adjusted himself back into his trousers.
Though I couldn't see clearly, the dim lighting revealed some kind of metallic gleam along the underside of his anatomy.
Were those... body modifications?
I averted my eyes quickly, focusing on his face as he stood up, his frame towering and imposing.
He advanced toward me, and with each step forward, I retreated one backward. This continued until I found myself pressed against the wall. My chest rose and fell from labored breathing.
Then—he emerged into the light.
Liam Simon possessed dark, vacant eyes as he examined me, his gaze traveling over my figure with deliberate slowness.
Torturously slow.
His attention lingered on my chest longer than appropriate, and my breathing hitched.
Then he smiled predatorily.
"I believed I'd require additional observation to verify your identity, but apparently I possess all the confirmation necessary," he stated coldly, his deep voice causing tremors along my spine. "Greetings, Vivian Abel."