My face is stone cold as she looks up at him. “That sounds lovely.”

I’ve never felt so compelled to control a woman before, but at this moment, I want to tear her out of that douchebag’s arms and throw her over my shoulder without putting her down until we found a private part of this building.

As she walks away, I can only think about that first day, the day she clutched onto my body for dear life, desperate for affection. Is she headed up to some private balcony to do the same thing with Frank Hamilton? Is she destined to break my heart into fucking pieces? Does she even know that she has that ability?

I stick back for a minute, gritting my teeth and watching her walk away. I’m not going to make a scene, act like an idiot, but I will keep an eye on her, and as long as she’s staying at Hazel’s, Savannah is mine.

My eyes don’t leave her as she ascends the stairs, until that is, a face across the room snatches up my attention.

Colin-Fucking-McAffery.

I shouldn’t be surprised to see him here. He’s on the city council, has his hands in everything, I’m sure. If that blonde knew I’d be here, then I’m sure Colin knew as well.

To my pure luck, he spots me at the exact moment I’m glaring at him. He doesn’t look like he changed much. He was a selfish prick when we were kids, and I can guarantee he still is today. He walks over, but before he gets too close, I turn back to the bar and order another three fingers. I can’t deal with this shit sober.

“Is that...Murphy?” he asks, his voice too high and too tense. Colin and I have never been kind to each other. Not once in all of our years. When he has to come into the shop for anything, he treats me like the dirt under his shoes, and I spend the whole time wishing I could put him under my shoe.

“Murph,” I grumble into my glass.

“Jesus Christ,” he mutters to himself. Then, when he’s out of earshot from anyone else, he lets his guard down a little. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

“I’m here for Hazel Whitaker.”

“I know that, but why? You think because you’re one of her little cradle-robbing sex trips down memory lane, you can show up here like you belong? Owning a piece of real estate on the strip doesn’t put you on the board. She can’t pass that down.”

“Well, I do know that as long as I own my little piece of real estate, there’s nothing you can do to take it, you privileged asshole.” We’re keeping our voices so flat, that I’m sure people can tell there’s some animosity between us, but it would appear they are all ignoring our little fight.

“Yeah, we’ll see about that,” he sneers just before he walks away. I want to punch a few of those white teeth out of his face, watch him bleed all over this marble floor, and I’m not even a violent guy.