Chapter 662

Hooking Tanya was easy. Buying the bar? Not so much. This place was booming every night, packed with customers. No sane owner would hand it over without a fight. I needed a different angle.

Sure, I could’ve looped in the Johnstons and made it a done deal. But that wasn’t happening. I was done with them. So, I called Ron. The second I finished explaining, he hit me with, “If you wanna be a boss, I’ll step aside.”

Typical Ron—chill to the point of reckless. Giving up a cushy gig without blinking? He made life look so easy. I laughed it off. “I’m not looking to run the place. I just don’t want to pay for my drinks every time I show up.”

He snorted. “Ms. Kay, the money you’re thinking of dropping on this could fund your drinking habit for, like, ten lifetimes.” He teased, but then his tone shifted. “Don’t be impulsive. Owning a bar isn’t just a fun side hustle.”

“I know what I’m doing,” I cut in before he could go full dad-mode. “Just tell me if you’ve got any connections to the owner. If not, I’ll figure it out on my own.”

This wasn’t a random whim. I’d thought it through. But Ron didn’t need to know the details. The fewer people who knew about my plans regarding the Drago family, the safer it’d be—for them and for me. This was dangerous territory, and dragging anyone else into it wasn’t an option.

“Fine, fine,” Ron finally relented. “I’ll see what I can do.”

“Thanks, Mr. Shane.”

He scoffed and hung up.

When your brain won’t shut up, sleep is impossible. Whether it’s nerves, excitement, or both, the result is the same: another sleepless night. Two in a row now—brutal. I’d never really understood why people complained about insomnia until now. Turns out, it’s a special kind of misery.

Still, it wasn’t all bad. If you can’t sleep, you might as well be productive, right? It gave me time to sort through everything—and even pick out a gift for Wayne.

At the elegant French restaurant, Wayne raised an eyebrow when I handed him the tie. “It’s not my birthday, and it’s not some special occasion, is it?” he asked, holding it up to inspect.

As he examined it, my mind drifted to the ties in his Houston home—and the diary stashed beneath them. Had he been back there recently? Did he notice two ties were missing? Did he realize someone had flipped through his diary? Or worse—had he added something new to it?

“This is a thank-you gift,” I said, keeping my tone light. “For helping me track down Demi. I met her.”

I paused, watching his face like a hawk for any sign of a reaction. Demi had hinted at uncovering someone’s secret. Was that someone Wayne? But his expression stayed perfectly neutral, not a single crack. Of course. If he were hiding something, he wouldn’t have handed over Demi’s contact info so easily. So, if it wasn’t him Demi was talking about… who else could it be?

“And,” I added, “thanks for pulling me out of DracoLux.”

He chuckled softly. “I thought you were too drunk to remember that.”

“My brain doesn’t, but my call history does,” I admitted, acting a little sheepishly. “I didn’t embarrass myself too much, did I?”

“No,” he replied with a faint smile. “You fell asleep. Very well-behaved.”

He conveniently left out the part where I’d mistaken him for Hayden.

Wayne set the tie aside, his expression shifting as he gave me a steady look. “Rea, what were you doing at a place like that? And why drink so much?”

Ah, there it was—the subtle interrogation. I forced a dry laugh. “Looking for company. Heard the ‘male models’ there were handsome and… well-equipped.”