in the world.”
I remembered coming out from the backroom at the gym to the sounds of pained cries and shouting. Although that was the usual soundtrack at the training gym, that time had been different. The man had been sent to deliver a message with his fists.
It hadn’t been the last time someone had shown up with a similar messaging method.
No, the last time had been the man who was standing next to me, his hand on my lower back. The man whose hands had been on every other part of my body. Whose bed I slept in. Whose arms were wrapped around me every night, his hold possessive and intimate.
A sudden burst of guilt clawed at me. It tore at the happiness I’d built, threatening to unravel everything like a loose thread.
Tug.
Tug.
Tug.
Surprise tears burned behind my lids, and I inhaled deeply, keeping them at bay. Shoving it all down.
“Juliet,” Maximo said, making me jolt.
“Huh?”
His eyes were filled with concern. “Where’d you go, dove?”
“Sorry, what did you say?”
Catching my non-answer, the muscle in his jaw jumped, but he didn’t push. “I asked if you’re sure that’s him?”
I nodded.
He steered me through the room, his pace brisker than it’d been. He paused near a pit boss just long enough to say, “Gray shirt, bald head, Omaha low limit. If he gets up before Miles or Ash gets here, have him followed.”
Wait, what?
Since I sincerely doubted Maximo was avenging Shamus’ beatdown, I had no clue why he was making a big deal of a small thing. Unless he recognized the guy, too. Knowing the company Shamus had kept, I wouldn’t be surprised if the man was on his shit list.
The pit boss gave a barely perceptible chin raise before resuming his rounds like nothing was amiss.
I waited until we were walking before asking, “Why are you siccing security on him?”
Maximo didn’t answer as he took his phone out, tapped the screen a few times, and put it to his ear. Whoever must have picked up because he repeated the description before adding, “He worked for someone McMillon owed. Keep an eye on him.”
Once he hung up, I repeated, “Why are you siccing security on him?”
“Making sure he’s only here to lose his money.” He wrapped an arm around me and squeezed, though he remained somber.
“It’s just a coincidence.”
That wasn’t the right thing to say because his eyes went colder. “I don’t like coincidences.”
“Okay, but to be fair, I think Shamus owed money to half the US population.”
That got him to soften a little as he glanced down at me. “That much?”
I tilted my head and pretended to think before amending, “Half the continental US.”
His lips tipped and more of the tension left him as we stopped.
I pulled my attention from his far too sexy expression to see we were at the entryway to the area Marco had said was off-limits.
Earlier, the doors had been propped open, and so many people had milled about, I hadn’t been able to see what was in there. Right then, the doors were closed with a velvet rope secured across, so I still couldn’t see what was in there. Signage marked it as closed for the evening.
Of course, none of that applied to Maximo, and he unlatched the rope and punched in a code to unlock the heavy door.
Holding it open so I could enter, he re-secured the rope and let the heavy door slam closed, the sound echoing in the quiet hall.
Beautiful photography and art lined the walls. Sculptures and floral displays were in the middle of the path. The theme, of course, was the moon, but also light. Bursts of it filled dark canvases—simple yet stunning.
Although it was lovely to look at, I was surprised by how busy it’d been earlier. The typical Vegas crowd didn’t strike me as art aficionados.
Maximo took my hand, weaving his fingers through mine as he kept my pace, not rushing my very slow stroll.
Once we reached the end of the hall and the doors there, Maximo punched in a code. All six doors swung open, and we stepped into a dimly lit room.
The domed roof was velvety black, but there were no twinkle lights. Matching black benches were positioned in rows, but that was it.
“Sit,” Maximo said. “Third row, right side of the aisle.”
I went where he directed and sat on the padded bench. If nothing else, my feet were happy for a break.
Low classical music filled the room as the lights dimmed. Maximo sat next to me just