Page 176 of Hate to Love You
“He was,” Cal nods. “But he hasn’t shown, and I just heard from the host that he called an hour ago and removed his name from the silent auction. And said he wouldn’t be attending dinner.”
“He’s erasing his trail,” I growl, my heart starting to pound.
“Is something wrong?” Abby asks, her brow furrowing.
“We’re leaving,” I say, taking her hand. “Now.”
“What?” She asks as I drag her off the dancefloor with Cal in tow. “But we just got here?”
“My sister?” I ask Cal.
“She left after placing her bids,” he says before muttering into his earpiece for the team to bring the car around.
“Mr. Antonov!” A man says, stepping in front of the three of us as we head for the exit. “So glad you could join us tonight—”
“Move!” I bellow, as Cal practically shoves him out of our way to the door.
“Uh, at what point are you going to tell me what’s going on?” Abby asks. “I got all dolled up for tonight, at your request, we just got here, and now we’re just leaving?”
But I say nothing.
My mind is spinning.
The fact that Cillian isn’t here is concerning. And the fact that he took his name off the guest list and his bids for the silent auction, could be a sign that he wants no association with this event…in case something goes down.
“What?” Cal says, pressing his hand to his ear. “What do you mean they won’t let us pull the cars around front?”
Tossing our tickets to the boy running the coat check I glare at him for good measure, prompting him to quickly find and hand us our coats.
“Boss, we need to take the back exit,” Cal grumbles. “The cars are waiting for us there.”
“What the fuck?”
“There’s a press event out in front.”
“So?” I hiss.
“Channel 4 is outside,” Cal says as he opens the door to the back stairwell that he knows leads outside to the parking lot.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Abby says, stopping dead in her tracks. “I’m wearing a ballgown and five-inch heels. I’m taking the elevator and I’ll see you in the lobby.”
She tries to reach for the door, but I stop her before she can.
“Oh no you don’t,” I say, snatching her jacket from her hands and tossing it to Cal before grabbing her around the legs.
“Wait! Roman!” She shrieks as I throw her over my shoulder. “Oh my God!”
“Keep your voice down,” I bark, immediately starting down the stairs and unbuttoning my suit coat to give me access to my gun.
“Right but you’re making my tits pop out of my dress!” She huffs, fidgeting behind me, presumably adjusting herself.
“Which as I recall, wouldn’t be a problem had you gotten an appropriate dress,” I quip sarcastically. “And not one that shows off every single ass-et you have.”
“Funny,” Abby fires back immediately. “I didn’t see you complaining when you were adjusting your little chubby all night, Mr. Antonov.”
I purse my lips, barely resisting the urge to slap the fuck out of her perky behind now shoved in my face.
I’ll make her pay for that comment in front of Cal later.