Chapter 22

The following morning, as I sat in the office, Alex entered setting cup of coffee down on the edge of the desk. "I need to talk to you," he said, his voice tight.

I nodded. "I figured."

He took a deep breath. "I can't do this. You have got to stop tempting me."

"Alex," I began, but he held up a hand to silence me.

"No," he said firmly. "You don't understand..."

The door to the office swung open, and we both turned to see a man standing in the doorway. He was tall, with the same sharp features and piercing gaze as Alex. But there was something softer about him, a refinement that spoke of a life lived in the upper echelons of society.

"Alex," the man said in greeting.

Alex's expression was a mask of shock and anger. "What the hell are you doing here, Marcus?"

Marcus, stepped into the room, his eyes taking in the chaos of the club's ledger spread out before us. "It seems I've arrived just in time," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "What kind of mess have you gotten yourself into