The Wrong Heart, the Right Husband

"Stand up straight, Winnie." Marcus, the floor manager, snapped his fingers right between my eyes. "You look like a scared rabbit. The guests pay for a fantasy, not a funeral."

"I'm trying," I said. I tugged at the hem of the tight black skirt they forced me to wear.

"Try harder." He shoved a heavy silver tray into my hands. Three bottles of premium whiskey rattled against the metal. "Your father’s creditors don’t care if you’re shy. They care about the cash. Two million dollars doesn't pay itself off with you hiding by the bar."

"I know. You don't have to remind me."

"Then act like you want the tips. VIP Room One. Don't mess this up. The men in there own half the city."

"Just deliver the drinks and leave, right?" I asked.

"Deliver the drinks, smile, and do whatever they ask. If they want you to pour, you pour. If they want you to sit, you sit."

"I'm not an escort, Marcus."

"You're whatever pays the bills tonight. Go."

The bass from the club floor vibrated through my shoes. I pushed the heavy oak door open.

Smoke and the sharp scent of expensive cologne hit me immediately.

"Well, well. Look at this." A guy with a slicked-back undercut grinned, stepping away from the leather sofa to block my path.

"I brought the whiskey," I muttered. I kept my gaze fixed on the glass table in the center.

I stepped forward. He didn't move. His hand shot out, wrapping tightly around my waist.

"What's the rush, sweetheart?" he slurred.

"Please, let me pass."

"Come sit on my lap. Pour me a glass yourself." He yanked me closer. The tray tipped. A bottle wobbled dangerously, threatening to smash on the floor.

"I said, let go." I pushed against his chest.

He only laughed. His fingers dug sharply into my hip. "Stop playing hard to get. We pay well."

"Hey, share the wealth, Toby," another man chimed in from the corner. "Bring her over here."

"She's mine first," Toby insisted. He leaned in, his mouth nearing my neck. "You smell fantastic. What's your name?"

"Get off me!" I shoved him harder, but my heel slipped on the slick floor.

"Feisty. I like that." Toby grabbed my wrist, twisting it just enough to hurt.

"Let go of me right now!"

"Enough."

The single word sliced through the room. It wasn't shouted. It was spoken with absolute, terrifying authority. The music seemed to mute.

I glanced up. Vance Harrison lounged in the center booth. The heir to the Harrison empire swirled amber liquid in a crystal glass. He sat back, legs spread, an unlit cigarette resting between his fingers. He didn't raise his voice, yet Toby froze instantly.

"Vance, I was just having some fun," Toby stammered.

Vance didn't look at him. His dark eyes locked onto mine.

"The liquor is here," Vance stated, his tone flat and unyielding. "You can leave."

Toby released my waist like my skin burned him. He stepped back, raising his hands in surrender. "Sure thing, Vance. My bad."

"Thank you," I whispered. I set the tray down on the table, my hands trembling so badly the bottles clinked together.

I backed out of the room. I didn't see Vance's eyes tracking my every move, pinning me down like a hunter locking onto his next meal. I just shut the door and bolted down the hall.

Sunlight bruised the sky purple and gray by the time my shift ended. My feet ached with every step.

I unlocked the door to the apartment I shared with Kevin. My boyfriend of two years. He had money, a massive trust fund, but he didn't know about my dad's bankruptcy. I didn't want his pity, and I certainly didn't want his money. I just wanted to crawl into bed and sleep.

The apartment was pitch quiet. I slipped my shoes off by the mat.

"Kevin?" I called out softly.

No answer. He usually slept in on weekends.

Then, a sound cut through the silence.

A low, guttural moan drifted from our bedroom down the hall.

"Fuck, Kevin. Right there."

My stomach plummeted. I dropped my purse. It hit the hardwood with a soft thud.

"You like that, Lisa?" Kevin's voice. Grunting. Rough.

Lisa. Our junior from the university. The girl who always asked me for study notes.

"Yes, fuck, don't stop," she whined.

I walked down the hall. I pushed the half-open door wide.

They were tangled in the center of my bed. Lisa lay flat on her back, her legs wrapped tight around Kevin's waist. He thrust into her hard, his hands gripping her bare breasts tightly.

"Fuck yes," Lisa moaned loudly. She arched her spine, pushing her hips up to meet him. "Give it to me. Fuck me harder."

"I'm fucking ruining you," Kevin growled. He buried his face in her neck, his hips slapping against hers in a rapid, wet rhythm.

My hands shook so violently my knuckles cracked against the doorframe.

The noise made Kevin snap his head up. His eyes widened. The lust vanished, replaced by sheer panic.

"Winnie!" He pulled out of Lisa instantly, scrambling backward off the mattress. "It's not what it looks like!"

"Not what it looks like?" My voice cracked. "You're fucking my underclassman in my bed."

Lisa pulled the white sheet up over her chest, her cheeks flushed dark red. "Winnie, I didn't know you were coming home so early—"

"Shut up." I took a step back. The air in the room felt thick, suffocating.

"Baby, wait." Kevin grabbed his boxers from the floor and shoved his legs into them. "Let me explain. It was a mistake."

"A mistake?" I laughed, a harsh, bitter sound. "You tripped and fell inside her?"

"I was drunk. She came over to drop off a book, and one thing led to another."

"You're disgusting." I looked at Lisa. "And you. You smiled in my face yesterday."

Lisa looked down, clutching the sheet tighter. "I'm sorry, Winnie. We couldn't help it."

"Don't talk to me." I spun around as Kevin reached for my arm.

"Winnie, stop! We can fix this! I love you!"

"Don't ever say that to me again."

I didn't stop. I ran down the hall, out the front door, and into the cold morning air. I didn't look back. I just ran until my lungs burned and my legs gave out.