𝐃𝐞𝐛𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐓𝐞𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 | 𝟏𝟖+

14. personal

GABRIEL DALTON

✥

Dark Suite is practically my second home at this rate. My business plans with Zane have been going well and Lonzo wants us to close a deal with each other, benefitting both of our businesses. Working with Zane is easy, especially both Lonzo and I trust him.

He now has plans to buy an entirely new club downtown. Whatever rakes in the money, he's there. As long as it's morally legal–sometimes.

Zane's injury to his leg is getting better by the day. He's almost walking without that hobble and I know how determined he is to be walking right by the end of the month.

As I fix the cufflinks on my navy suit, I stroll through the VIP section. It's busy tonight, as usual. The music is pumping through the speakers so loudly that the floor physically shakes.

I walk to the balcony and look over the edge to the dance floor below. Zane spent a lot of money making this place perfect with unusual and unique decor, fancy furniture and smoking hot bartenders.

Now he's onto dancers. I passed the flyers stuck to the wall outside.

My eyes flick from the dancers to the workers to the security men. Sure, this place could definitely do with some entertainment. Make it different to every other club in this town that only focuses on the purest cocaine and severely overpriced Grey Goose.

Zane's vision erupts in my brain. Dancers could add a classy aspect to this place. A distribution of talent and enjoyment. Especially for his VIP clientele. I know he's trying his damned hardest to keep them interested in this place. I applaud him for his business ideas–hell, we all know the men will stick around for women who can move their bodies.

The sound of glass smashing behind me makes my ears prick. I glance over my shoulder to find two men nose to nose, shouting at one another in Italian. I scowl at the sight and walk towards them as one begins to swing. People start stumbling back and away, shielding themselves from these two menaces.

I grab one of them by their collar when a security guard reaches for the other. My eyes focus on the man's face as he attempts to lunge forward but I yank him backwards and shove him up against the wall. "Enough," I growl in his face as he finally flicks his eyes to mine. "You fight in here, you can see your sorry ass in the street."

His jaw tenses in my direction and his eyes flare, challenging me. I dip my hand into my waistband and clutch onto my gun before stabbing it into his side. "I'll be careful if I were you," I grumble. When I glance up, his expression has changed. "Get the fuck out before you make a fool out of yourself."

Before he says anymore, he pulls away from my grasp with a struck expression and runs towards the doors. I watch him leave whilst I tuck my gun back in my waistband. I'm sick of people treating this place like a Fight Club. This has been the third fight in the last two weeks.

Why are guys so fucking angry all the time? Take it outside like men and brawl without endangering others around them that are just trying to have a good time.

The security guard drags the other guy out after him and I brush down my blazer. I have no patience for that shit tonight. I really don't. When the guard returns he nods at me. "I'll have the camera footage sent to him with facial recognition." He states.

"Good," I bow my head.

As I walk through the VIP section towards Zane's office, I flick my gaze through the crowd only to find myself stopping short when I'm drawn into a pair of emerald eyes. She's perched on an open booth by herself with a tight dark purple strapless dress that curves over her chest and clings to her waist and over those impressive hips.