Liam

I can't take my eyes off of the pictures spread out before me on the boardroom table. All black and white in varying degrees of quality, spanning lord knows how long.

"Take your time," the FBI agent says from the far side. He's seated next to the police officer or moonlighting PI, depending on the day.

"Jeezus," Declan whispers, his fingertip on the corner of a photograph showing a woman mid ricochet after a hard face slap.

"That's not me," I growl, hating the look on my friend's face. "Hell, most of them aren't."

Picture after picture, I toss to the far end of the table, in the ever-growing pile of fakes. The small pile of pictures that are of me consists of shots of me arriving or leaving clubs.

The agent picks up one of the pictures taken from behind, showing off a man in a suit and the back of his head. Enough glancing detail to pass as me, but not it.

"And you're sure Mr. Anthony?" He shifts his dark, judgemental gaze up to me, then back to the photo. "There is certainly a resemblance..."

"For fuck's sake," Sophia snaps, storming over to the middle-aged man. "Can we not swap you for a female agent? 'Cause she would be able to spot the difference in a heartbeat!"

"Wait just a minute," he snaps back, face flushing red.

Sophia is unbothered by his outburst. She grabs his arm and drags him around the table. "Stay," she orders when I turn to face them.

From the same vantage point as the picture, I stay seated, letting her make her point.

"Yeah, we already know it looks right," the agent dryly replies.

"Would you look closer?!" She holds the picture up to the back of my head. "See the whirl patterns in the hair? The mouth breather in the picture has two on the back of his head. Liam? His are high on his crown, not visible with his hair cut."

On instinct, I try to turn and see what she's talking about, but she wretches my head back forward. Everyone shuffles behind me, taking a closer look.

"Well, I'll be damned," the agent mutters.

"The only photos I can vouch for are the ones I took," the PI says, throwing his palms up. "They all have my stamp and dates. The others were given to me as part of his ongoing investigation."

All eyes turn to the man as he squirms in his seat.

"Maybe, officer, you should have done your due diligence before handing over falsified records." The fed pinches his nose and sighs. "You realize I could have your badge for this, right?"

"Do you have what you need?" Declan cuts in, saving the withering PI. "This has already done incalculable damage. We'd like to work on fixing it."

"Understandable." The fed collects the photos into two piles and then gathers the files too. "I think we've got more than enough to work on here. We'll be in touch."

Declan holds the door wide, over the formalities and done with the bumbling law enforcement. He practically slams the door, leaving them with Todd to see them out.

"Unbelievable." He sighs, flops down in the nearest chair, and rubs his temples. "Honestly, I say we sick Soph on the case. It'll wrap up in no time."

She saunters over and caresses his chin as she walks by. "Aside from missing the picture details, the list of charges they've got against Russel is impressive. I don't think he'll see freedom for a very long time."

As much as I hate the weasel, my thoughts, like always, drift back to Ella. It's been days since we last spoke.

"No luck, eh?" Declan asks, as if reading my mind.

I shake my head as my frown deepens.

"She'll come around," Soph says, flashing me a sad smile. "She's barely talking to me, too. It's part of her process."

"Great." My frown deepens to a scowl.

"Come get dinner with us," Declan says, looking to Sophia for approval.

"Not a bad idea. I swear you live here," she adds with a hint of disgust. "Getting out and taking your mind off of El and the whole situation would do you some good."

Deep down, I know they're right. I've done nothing but work long hours, then workout till I pass out. If it wasn't for Declan ordering us food every day, I would probably have forgotten that, too.

"Stop thinking about reasons not to and just grab your stuff and come." Declan smirks, proud of his jab.

"I've got nothing," I say with a shrug. "Ready when you are." As much as I don't want to be a third wheel, Declan and even Sophia have been very supportive.

My cell vibrates on the table and I pick it up so fast that I don't even know who called when I answer. "Hello?"

My heartbeat picks up in the silence, hoping against hope that El is on the other end of the line.

"Mr. Anthony?" A woman asks. Her voice is vaguely familiar, but I can't place it.

"Speaking."

"Sorry to bother you, Mr. Anthony. It's Vanessa calling from Ecstasy about your account." Her face comes to mind and I remember her from the front desk at Ecstasy BDSM club.

"Right." I sigh. "What can I do for you, Vanessa?"

Of all the times to ask for renewals... wait, I have my membership on direct payment...

"Um, Mistress Lynn asked me to call and let you know that your guest is here."

That single phrase stops my heart on the spot. "My guest?" I practically gasp.

Declan tilts his head, concern swimming in his bright blue eyes. I wave him off and turn to face the window.

"Yes, a miss Ella?" Vanessa says.

Oh, for the love of god!

"She's there?!" I shout. "Like alone?"

"Well." Vanessa hesitates, drawing out the word.

"Tell me!"

"As you know, we're members only, but your VIP account is afforded special consideration—"

"Where is she?" I shout, slamming my fist on the table.

"With Mistress Lynn, in the club." Her voice wavers, not hiding her worry.

I take a deep breath and pinch the bridge of my nose. By the third time, I have a stranglehold on my hulking temper.

"Sorry Vanessa, it's not been a good day. How long has she been there?"

"She got here maybe fifteen minutes ago? Mistress Lynn signaled me to inform you when they went into the club."

"Thank you, Vanessa." My knuckles crack under the strain from clenching my fists.

"Your welcome, Sir. Is there anything else I can do for you?"

I can't hold back my bitter laugh. "No, thank you, this was enough."

I hang up and palm my forehead.

"Raincheck?" Declan asks, raising a brow.

"Definitely. Sorry, but I've got to go take care of this."

Sophia blocks my way with her hands on her hips. "Now what has she gotten herself into?"

"First hand research?" I say with a shrug. "And before you freak out, Ecstasy is a very safe club. She's apparently talking with the owner, but that's as far as she'll get."

"I swear if anything happens—"

"I know." I roll my eyes at her endless threats. "Declan will dispose of my body. If you'll excuse me, I have to go."

She glares at me but steps aside, waving me through. "As long as you know the stakes."

With a curt nod, I head out, beelining for the garage. What Sophia doesn't seem to understand is that I don't need her threat for motivation. The last thing I ever wanted to do was hurt El, hell I tried to shield her from all of this.

Todd's standing just inside the garage, holding my charger keys for me. He offers a tight-lipped smile as I take them.

"How'd you know?" I ask, hitting the remote start.

Mischief dances in his eyes as he snorts back a laugh. "With the bum's rush you guys gave the Feds? Call it a hunch."

"Thanks again for everything." Good help can be hard to find, but it's worth its weight in gold. Todd proves that every day. "Check with Declan, but I'm done for the day. If he's got nothing, start your weekend early."

Todd grins and nods. "Will do. Good luck, sir."

"I'm gonna need it."

I leave him to his business and focus on mine. Ecstasy is on the other side of the city, leaving me alone with my thoughts for far too long.

What on earth is El doing there? Why wouldn't she call me if she was thinking about going to a club? Is this the first club she's tried? The thought of her going to a shitshow like Dante's Den makes me cringe.

That she's there has to be a sliver of hope though, right?

Sophia kept telling me to give her space and that she'd come around, but I was beginning to doubt her. After months of constantly talking, the silence is damn near unbearable.

Before long, yet what feels like an eternity, I pull up to Ecstasy. The new club is more than double its previous size, but already the parking lot is packed.

I don't bother with parking and drop my car off with the valet, then make my way inside. Vanessa is waiting at the podium and smiles as I enter.

"Mr. Anthony," she greets, keeping her gaze lowered in perfect protocol.

"Vanessa. Sorry about earlier..." I what? Am a worked up asshole? Accurate, but not the title I want.

"There's nothing to apologize for. Miss Ella seemed out of sorts, so I'm guessing there's more to it than meets the eye." My silence is the confirmation she needed. "I imagine they're in the lounge."

Her hand curls under the podium, clicking the switch that releases the heavy oak doors. She nods ever so slightly for me to head in.

I slip past the door, giving my eyes a moment to adjust to the dim lighting. The hallway is clearly outlined with strip lighting on the floor to guide patrons ahead to the coat check.

Oscar stands by the lockers with my regular one open and waiting for me. As if on autopilot, I quickly drop my phone and keys in it before closing it and taking the key from the lock.

"Have a good evening, Sir," he states, opening the next door for me.

The moment the seal is broken, sensual base music floods the corridor along with the dim of countless conversations. I stand on the landing, catching my bearings as I search for Ella.

To the left is the play floor with crowds packed around the multiple sages. The nearest one has a dominatrix mid scene with a near naked male submissive. The crowd is so thick I can't see past them.

I check my watch and frown, seeing it's still late afternoon. If the club is this packed now, it will only get worse as people finish work and look for ways to unwind.

My gaze drifts right towards the lounge. In the center of the crowd I spot Lynn, but her keen green gaze has long since spotted me. She smirks and curls her index finger, summoning me over.

"Where is she?" I demand as soon as I'm in shouting distance.

Lynn arches a brow and crosses her arms over her chest, clearly not impressed by my outburst. "Have a drink, Liam."

"Lynn," I warn, glaring at the woman. She, of all people, should know not to meddle in someone else's dynamic. When she doesn't back down, I try to slip around her, but a riding crop tip to the chest stops me in my tracks.

Her brow arches, and she shifts her gaze between me and the crop at my chest. "Sorry, did you think that was a request?" She asks, narrowing her green gaze. "Because it was not. Now sit!"

I freeze, suddenly feeling her eyes on me. I spot Ella sitting at the bar with two women. Samantha and Lydia, the literal angel and devil of Ecstasy. Ella's wide-eyed expression guts me.

A dark shadow approaches from the left, and a mountain of a man blocks my way. Tom, head of security, is a laid-back guy, but step out of line and I've seen what he can do.

Begrudgingly, I shift my attention back to Lynn, who motions towards a nearby booth.

"First, you and I are going to have a little chat."