Chapter 122
Chapter 122:
He paused and looked down into the narrow gap between the seat and the console. He worked his fingers into the tight space and pulled.
A delicate Van Cleef & Arpels four-leaf clover gold bracelet dangled from his fingers.
Julian’s eyes widened. A sleazy, highly entertained smile spread across his face. Declan Hayes was famously ruthless and kept his private life locked down like a vault. Finding a woman’s jewelry wedged in his passenger seat was the most entertaining piece of gossip Julian had stumbled across in months.
He shoved the bracelet into his suit pocket, grabbed his cigars, and swaggered back into the club.
He made his way to the most secluded booth in the room.
Cole sat in the center of the leather sofa, a glass of scotch in hand, his face a mask of dark, brooding anger. June’s absolute silence had stretched on for days now, and the psychological weight of it was eating him alive. Across the glass table, Declan sat with his drink, slowly swirling it, the white bandage stark against his right hand, his expression entirely unreadable.
Julian threw himself down beside Declan.
“So,” he practically shouted over the music, grinning broadly, “did our ice-cold CEO finally have a wild night? Who was the lucky girl in the Aston Martin p>
Declan’s eyes cut to Julian with a look of pure, freezing warning. “Shut your mouth, Julian. Don’t embarrass yourself in public p>
𝖡e 𝗉a𝗿t 𝗈𝖿 𝗈𝘂𝗿 𝗰𝘰𝗆m𝘶𝗻𝗂𝘵y 𝗈𝗇 ѕ.𝘤o𝗆
Julian laughed and reached into his pocket. “The evidence says otherwise, brother.” He tossed the gold bracelet onto the black glass table.
Clink.
The delicate chain rang against the surface with a sharp, clear note.
“That is not the kind of jewelry a woman leaves behind unless she wants you to call her,” Julian teased, raising his eyebrows.
Declan’s gaze dropped to the table. His pupils contracted slightly. He recognized the clover design immediately — the bracelet June had been wearing at the precinct the night before.
He reached out to take it.
A large hand shot across the table and snatched it first.
Cole’s fist closed around the bracelet. He stared down at the delicate gold clovers resting in his palm. His heart stopped. The air in his lungs turned to solid lead.
He knew this bracelet. He knew every fine scratch on its surface. Three years ago, he had told his assistant to pick something for June’s birthday — a thoughtless, delegated gesture. This was it. June had worn it every single day since, treating his careless afterthought like something sacred.
Cole’s head came up slowly.
His eyes were completely bloodshot. The veins in his neck pressed against his collar. He fixed Declan with a stare of pure, homicidal fury.
“Why the hell is my wife’s bracelet in your car?” The words came out as a low, guttural snarl that cut straight through the music.
Julian’s smile evaporated. He stammered, “W — wait, Cole, how do you even know it’s hers? It’s a common brand p>