Make sure my car is out front.
I’m flirting with the woman behind the front desk. Give me five.
I snort.
Don’t harass my employees.
I’m not. I thought she was going to cry when she had to tell you there weren’t any rooms.
Out of curiosity, why do you need a room?
Because I’m tired of waiting for Jasmine.
And I don’t want to go home to an empty house.
As long as you don’t plan on taking your dear wife up there, I’m here for it.
Definitely not that.
Good. And your car is ready when you are.
Thanks.
I drop my phone in my pocket as Jasmine’s purse vibrates again.
“For the love of god,” I mutter as I unzip the purse that cost me five-k.
There are several missed calls, all from Ellie. Fuck. Why has she called so many times? Her name flashes on the screen again, and I answer.
“Ellie? It’s Jafar.”
I want to ask what’s wrong, but I don’t. What if she’s calling just to tell her friend how her date went? The thought makes me want to punch something. Mainly Al.
Her voice is so soft that I barely hear her. “Where’s Jasmine?”
“She’s busy. She’s with the photographer. How’s the date?” There’s a long pause, and I wonder if the call has been disconnected. “Ellie?”
“I—I need help.”
Her voice breaks on the last word, sending me into action.
“Where are you?”
“My hotel room.”
“I’m on my way.”
I drop Jasmine’s phone and purse on the table and stand. My men stationed around the room stand, too, but I wave them down as I leave the ballroom. Razoul is nowhere to be seen in the lobby. I’ll text him once I find out what’s happened to Ellie. In the car, I grab my pistol from the glove box, slipping it into my waistband. My mind races as I speed across town. What in the fuck happened on that date? Did someone target them? Anything is possible when you’re associated with me.
I finally reach the hotel, coming to a stop in front.
“Leave it parked here,” I tell the valet as I toss my keys.
“Yes, Mr. Jafar.”
Inside, I bypass the front desk, going to the elevators. When I step off on the fifteenth floor, I have my gun in my hand. Nothing seems out of place as I come to a stop in front of her door.
“Ellie. It’s me,” I say as I tap on the dark wood.