“I come here to relax,” he snaps as he passes, annoyed as he opens his car door with a vicious yank. “It’s like a fucking soap opera in there.”

I look to the doors of The Manor, just as a female member, Natasha, breezes out. Her smile is instant as she struts down the steps, stopping before me. “Oh,” she coos, resting the tip of her finger in the center of my chest and circling it slowly. “I’m just leaving, and you’ve just arrived. Shame.” She blinks slowly, running her tongue across her bottom lip. I move back, out of her reach, shying away from her touch. It feels all wrong.

“What’s going on?” I ask, looking away from her, finding my mate. His face is still screwed up in repulsion.

“I’m taking Natasha back to mine to relax.” His head cocks. “If you get my drift.”

Natasha brushes past me, pulling on her jacket. “Care to join us?”

I scoff. Never have I fucked with a close friend. And never will I. “Have fun,” I mutter, not needing to ask them why they’re taking their pleasure outside the walls of The Manor. “For fuck’s sake.” I gingerly take the steps and brace myself for what I’ll be faced with.

It’s quiet. I glance around, listening carefully, not hearing any commotion.

Sam appears at the top of the stairs, fastening his fly, a smile on his face. I cock him a questioning look and take the few steps needed to get me to the bar entrance. I look through the doorway, seeing someone slumped over the bar, a tumbler of amber liquid in their grasp.

Mike.

I quickly backtrack before Coral’s husband sees me. I need to know what I’m dealing with. “Drama,” Sam says from behind me, and I sigh.

“Where’s John?”

“Your office.” Sam heads into the bar. “Put your armor on. He’s not a happy bunny.”

“Bunny?” I laugh, and Sam grins over his shoulder, settling on a stool next to Mike, whose head starts to lift with some effort. I make tracks to my office, wary, still looking around, still listening. It’s quiet. Which means John has calmed the situation down or Sarah has sewn Coral’s mouth shut.