HIS DOE HIS DAMNATION (by Vivienne) novel Chapter 3

Meadow’s POV

A nervous laugh escaped my throat even as I felt sweat start to break out on my neck. “What do you mean by that?”

I was trying to distract myself from thinking about the name. His name.

Alaric Ashford.

Although I had no idea what he looked like, I’d heard stories about him back in Seattle. Tyler had told me multiple stories about how much of a cold bastard he was, and how every single employee feared him like he could squeeze the last breath out of them.

But… there was no way that this was happening.

No way that I happened to be in the same club as my ex-fiance’s boss.

And no fucking way that his gaze was completely focused on me.

I turned to look upstairs again, and he was still there.

Looking at me as if he was a predator.

And I was his prey.

My skin prickled with sweat. I picked up the shot glass and downed its contents, slamming it hard onto the bar as I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand.

“Again,” I demanded.

But the bartender firmly shook his head. “No can do, pretty girl. I’ve been warned. I think you’ve had enough for one night.”

My brows furrowed. “What do you mean you’ve been warned? I didn’t warn you.”

His smile was tight. “You didn’t.” He subtly nodded towards the stairs. “He did.”

Without turning around, I knew he was referring to Alaric. But he hadn’t even come down or spoken to him. “Bullshit,” I scoffed.

My voice was slurring now. “I didn’t see him talk to you.”

“He didn’t have to.”

“Well, what is he? Your boss?” I scoffed, my head jerking back exaggeratedly because of how drunk I was. “And who the hell do you two think you are to tell me that I’ve consumed enough alcohol?”

“He owns this place, pretty girl. He is my boss. And I pretty much value my fucking legs, so no more drinks for you, girlie.”

My eyes widened.

Owner of a multi-billion-dollar company and a luxury club? That was more interesting to me than J would ever care to admit.

I turned around to look up at the balcony, but there was no trace of him.

He was gone.

Too bad. I was prepared to march up those spiral stairs and give him a piece of my mind.

I turned back to face the bartender, but before I could say anything, a man in all black appeared at my side, sliding a cold bottle of water in front of me.

“Mr. Ashford would like a word.”

My gaze dropped to the water, and then to the stranger who had a pair of dark shades on.

What the hell was wrong with these people?

“Who the hell are you?” I slurred. “And who wears sunglasses at night?”

“I’m part of his security detail,” he said plainly. “It’ll serve you well to have some of this water and come with me upstairs. Mr. Ashford doesn’t like to be delayed.”

“Of course, he doesn’t.” I let out a laugh, rolling my eyes. I jumped down from the stool, deciding to leave, but the security detail’s firm hand on my arm stopped me.

“What the hell?” I exclaimed, struggling in his grip. “Let me go!”

Efforts to move my arm away from his hand proved fruitless, but after a full minute of nothingness, I stopped fighting. And he released my arm.

“Drink,” he muttered, screwing the cap of the water bottle open and dropping it in front of me.

I considered my options.

If I decided to run, I wasn’t going to get anywhere. Not in this drunk state.

And who knew what would happen to me after he caught me?

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