Beautiful Ruin (The Enemies Trilogy Book 3) by Piper Lawson

Author:Piper Lawson [Lawson, Piper]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2021-08-10T18:30:00+00:00

19

Rae

Bliss is full, but I’m on edge, scanning the crowd as I mix.

I’m still thinking of my date with Harrison last night. Dinner was a dream. We went back to his villa and stayed up on the patio until the early hours of the morning, where he laid a blanket down on the grass and we talked and touched under the stars.

It’s not as if everything is resolved between us, but he certainly wants to try. And he seems like a changed man.

Now, I’m back to the reality of playing the club where a woman died when it could have been prevented.

Which means there’s something I need to do.

As I finish, I catch sight of the owner.

After a few selfies, I wave off the crowd of fans and cut straight for the bar. The bartender pours me a drink, and the owner nods at me. I lift my glass to him, taking a long drink. “A woman died outside. A customer from last week.”

His eyes widen. “I don’t know anything about that.”

“You should. Mischa’s drugs killed her. And you let him in.”

His gaze cuts past my shoulder. When I follow the owner’s eyes, a hulking security guard nods to me.

“Go with him,” the owner says.

I stiffen. “Where?”

He doesn’t answer.

The hairs on my neck lift in warning, but I want to know where this leads. Maybe he’s decided he’ll talk to me after all.

I follow the security guard, my hand tightening on my phone to signal my own security.

We’re heading through the halls, and it’s quieter after the door to the club closes behind us. When we reach another door—a VIP room I remember from my tour when I arrived—the security guard opens it and holds it wide. I have no choice but to step inside.

The room is the size of a hotel suite, velvet furniture and curtains. A booth is along the far end, a bar on the wall nearest, but it’s the man at the center that draws all of my attention.

Mischa sprawls along the largest couch, wearing black trousers and a white shirt. His legs stretch in front of him, and there’s a woman on either side of him. If they’re not twins, they’re doing a damned good impression. One is completely naked, the other topless. They’re brunettes, unlike his fiancée.

Armed security watches from either corner of the room. They’re not club guards either. These men look hard, and they don’t move except for their eyes.

“Miss Madani.” Mischa’s lips curl.

My breath is shallow as I stop in front of the coffee table littered with pills and powder.

“If I’d known you were coming to my show, I would’ve played something for you.”

“Believe me, I was more than affected.” His eyes are blue, but gray-blue, like a dead sky.

I wonder what he sees. What he thinks about that makes him treat people like commodities.

“It’s a great club,” I say.

“That’s why I’m buying it.”

I whirl around to see the owner by the door. His face is downcast.

Mischa rises, ignoring the hands of the women trying to drag him back, and steps around the table.

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