Page 80 of The Grand Duel

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Page 80 of The Grand Duel

There’s a small amount of guilt following me as I carry them to the dishwasher, mostly because Christian isn’t wrong, but also because I’ve never cared or thought to tell him about my parents.

It’s not from lack of trust—not after he told me about his brother, but more a lack of readiness to talk about something so deeply personal.

“Who knows how much he fucking paid!” I overhear the girl say, and I look up to find her eyes widening suggestively.

“I can’t believe that,” Leah says, quieter. “I’ve never known Bronwyn to be so soft.”

“What’s that?” I ask, my interest piqued.

The girl leans in, gesturing for me to come closer. “It’s all very hush-hush, but apparently Dan told Luke that he overheard a conversation between Bronwyn and a male client. He was demanding Bron keep one of the girls out of the rooms.”

I frown. “Can members do that?”

“No!” she whisper-shouts. “But when you’re a copper, I’m going to guess you can do a lot of things you’re not supposed to.”

My jaw drops.

“My bet is Cass. She left like four months ago now and was with him a couple weeks before that. There’s no way it’s not her.”

“How much has he dropped to have her quit, though?” Leah asks. “And would Cass even get the money or Bron?”

“Bronwyn wouldn’t keep it. My guess is that it was a pretty penny, and she’s lying in the sun somewhere right now. Why else would she not come back?”

What in the actual…I’ve asked to work the rooms multiple times since I put myself forward, and Bronwyn has shut me down every time, telling me she didn’t need me.

I slip away from the girls and head for the stairs. Bronwyn doesn’t spend a lot of time on the upper levels of the club, running her business quietly in the background and leaving the likes of Dan and Christian to man the face of the company.

I knock on her office door and wait.

“Come in.”

“Hi,” I say, stepping inside and shutting the door behind me. “Could you spare a couple minutes?”

She assesses me for a moment and then sighs. “Sure.”

I walk to her desk, knowing she won’t want her time wasted. “The guy I was with that night I worked in the rooms, the policeman.”

“The policeman?” she echoes.

“Yes. Has he been in since?”

She raises a brow at me, not saying anything.

“Bronwyn, please,” I beg. “I know about the money you were offered. That someone paid to keep one of the girls out of the rooms. Was it him?”

She narrows her gaze. “Are you asking me to break client confidentiality?”

“I wouldn’t tell anyone if you did. Bronwyn, it’s been weeks, and he’s not been back in. I keep thinking it’s me, and I wasawful, and that’s why you keep telling me I can’t work the rooms again?—”

She rolls her eyes. “The man tipped you five thousand pounds. Give your head a wobble, girl.”

“Did he pay to keep me out of the rooms? Was it him?”

It was.

I know it was.

She rubs at her forehead. “You’ll receive the payments cash and in instalments. The tax you’d pay on it would be astronomical else.”




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