Jonas, seeing that Dylan didn’t respond, assumed he truly wasn’t interested. Shrugging, Jonas went back to watching Rebecca across the room.
“I’d bet anything Fitch doesn’t have a shot with that girl. Now, you, Dylan—if you went for her, you’d have at least a seventy, eighty percent chance,” Jonas mused, stroking his chin.
“Seventy or eighty percent?” Dylan’s voice was cool, a faint note of displeasure in it.
Jonas turned, catching sight of Dylan’s dark expression. He still didn’t quite grasp where he’d gone wrong, so he hurried to apologize. “Oh—damn, I forgot! You’re getting married soon. Chasing women isn’t exactly your thing anymore. Sorry for dragging you into the conversation. Don’t take it personally.”
Dylan gave a cold, dismissive laugh. “How tedious.” He stubbed out his cigarette and walked straight back into the private lounge.
Meanwhile, in the dimly lit hallway, a figure lingered in the shadows. She watched Dylan disappear into the lounge, then quickly pulled out her phone and dialed a number.
“Crystal, this is your chance. Dylan’s at Shadow Club tonight.”
On the other end, Crystal nearly jumped off her couch in excitement. “Really? That’s perfect!”
“Keep an eye on him for me—I’ll be there as fast as I can!”
“Tonight, failure isn’t an option. This has to work.”
She hung up, heart pounding, and rushed to her closet. Throwing open the doors, she rummaged through her clothes until she found the most daring lace dress she owned. She held it up against herself, gauging the effect in the mirror.
She was about to see Dylan—her nerves tingled with anticipation. Tonight, she had to look her absolute best.
Not far away, Ethan removed a tiny listening device from his ear and dashed back to his own room.
As soon as he shut the door behind him, making sure no one could overhear, he called out, “Matthew, I’ve got it! The mean aunt is heading to Shadow Club, and our future stepdad is there, too.”
Noah’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully. “Let’s move.”
Ethan bobbed his little head, excitement sparkling in his eyes. “Okay!”
“The... the nightclub?” The driver’s eyes went wide. Had he heard that right? The young masters wanted to go to a nightclub?
“But sirs, you’re both underage—”
Noah cut him off with an icy tone. “Less talking, more driving. Just follow her car.”
The driver frowned, utterly baffled by the boys’ demands.
Noah added, “We’re worried Aunt Crystal might get into trouble at the club. Hurry up and follow her.”
The driver’s mouth twitched. Miss Crystal getting into trouble? If anyone’s up to no good, it’s probably these two...
But before he could say anything, a warning came from the back seat.
“Not a word about tonight, or you’ll be looking for a new job,” Noah threatened, his voice cold and steady.
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