"Interesting club," Ronan said once Dane reached the bar. He was flanked by two bodyguards.
"They aren't necessary," Dane said in an unemotional voice, pointing to the security. "No weapons allowed, no fighting, only pleasure."
"And yet, here you are, talking to me." Ronan leveled him with a glare. "What do you want, Dane?"
"Is that how you speak to an old friend?"
Ronan let out a snort. "We've never been friends. We've only tolerated each other because of the girls."
The girls.
It was how they all referred to Brittany, Everlee, Zoe and Danica. Pain sliced through Dane's heart, he couldn't even say her name in his head without feeling it everywhere, all the way down to the marrow.
Shake it off.
They were women now.
Women with secrets.
Insecurities.
Girls who'd grown up too fast.
Females who were still fighting their way through the jungle of New York, barefoot and bleeding with fake smiles and deadly secrets.
"I need you to keep him in jail," Dane said under his breath. "They say he's getting out on good behavior."
Ronan muttered a curse. "Let me guess, you want me to go have a golf game with the DA?"
"If you think that would help." Dane tilted his head and narrowed his eyes on the politician, the man he used to trust as much as everyone else before Dane's world came crumbling down around him by way of his sister's death. "Then, yes."
"Fine. This makes us even." Ronan tried to walk off, but Dane grabbed him by the elbow and held him there, whispering in a low voice, "I will never be done with you… tell the former first lady hello. I loved what she was wearing while shopping on Fifth Avenue yesterday, the white made her look so innocent."
Ronan let out a filthy curse and walked off.
And Dane?
Dane stared out across the club as a feeling of calmness washed over him. Chess pieces had been moved.
Now.
Now, he would wait.
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