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“Hey,” I start, grabbing her dainty face in my hands—they cover almost her entire face. “It’s okay. I will handle it.”
“Are you in trouble?” she asks, concern lining her features.
Something stirs in my chest at that.
I give her a reassuring smile. “Nothing I haven’t handled before. It’s your choice whether you want to stay up here or come down.”
“I’m coming with you. It’s not the first time I’ve dealt with the police.”
She steels herself and takes a deep breath, averting her gaze.
Whatever it is she’s hiding from me, I will need to find out sooner or later. Something tells me that the constant on-edge look she has about her has something to do with it.
I nod once, and she follows me out of the bedroom into the sparsely decorated halls. Her eyes bounce around the décor. I suppose she rarely sees it like this.
We enter the main floor through the double doors, the gold and black space in full, unobstructed view from the fluorescent lights.
“This looks even better in normal light,” she says in awe from behind me, which makes me chuckle.
I place the key into the lock and open the door a crack, the cold air flooding into the space along with that petrichor scent. One officer instantly places his foot at the frame of the door to stop me from shutting it on them.
“Can I help you, gentlemen?” I drawl.
“There you fucking are,” Jacques’ accent booms from the side of the door. I push it open further, revealing a not-very-pleased Jac standing behind them. His face is turned up into a scowl, and he’s got his suit on instead of his usual casual t-shirt. “I’ve been trying to get ahold of you for hours.”
“The service cut out. I haven’t had any messages.” I shrug.
“Mr Warren, we’ve had reports of illegal activity in this club,” one of the older officers starts, holding up his badge. Chief Inspector David Jones. He pulls out a warrant from his other pocket, showing it to both me and Jac. “We have a warrant to enter the premises.”
My knuckles rap gently against the wooden doorframe. I can feel Camila’s presence behind me the entire time.
After years of owning this club, we’ve never had the police on our door for ‘suspicious activity’, and by the looks of things, Jac is just as confused as I am, because he averts his gaze to anywhere that isn’t me. He does it when he doesn’t want us to look suspicious. I can’t understand how this would happen. The only other time we had police knocking on our door was when we first opened DL and made a rookie mistake.
“Can we ask what type of activity?” I keep my voice as casual as possible.
“We cannot disclose that information,” a younger officer pipes up from beside Jac.
“Since you’re entering my premises, I think I deserve to know.”
“Move aside, please, Mr Warren,” the older officer requests in a no-bullshit tone.
I let out a long breath through my nose and push the door open for them, stepping to the side. My hands reach out behind my back and guide Camila backwards with me.
The officers start making their way in one by one. I take mental note of each of their badges as they pass us. The last officer to enter has a closely shaved head of brown hair, with tattoos trailing up his neck. Bright hazel eyes and a chiselled face, paired with a light sprinkle of dark stubble. He looks more like a convict than a police officer. His eyes size me up as he passes me, and our gazes stay locked on each other as he gets further into the space. I glance down at his badge before he disappears behind me.
Axel Bailey.
Jac swaggers in, eyes snagging on Camila.
She clears her throat behind me. “Good morning, Mr Warren.”
His steps slow, and his head subtly moves backwards in shock. He flicks his attention to me, eyebrow arching.
“Nothing happened,” I say quietly, teeth clenched.
He looks back to Camila, taking in her small frame in my too-big clothes. He doesn’t say a word as he continues making his way in, pulling out a chair at one of the tables and sitting.
I slam the door shut, twisting back to get a full view of the club. The officers have spread out now, looking for whatever they’re searching for. They won’t find anything, but I sure as hell will find the fucking rat in our circle.
