She turned away and hurried out of view, leaving me shocked by this man’s absurd overreaction. He took his seat, cursing quietly under his breath as he threw the napkin down on the table.

“I’m not being unreasonable,” he told me, catching my irritation. “But everything in life costs money, Emma. She shouldn’t get away with something like this all because she made a mistake.”

I raised a brow. “What are you expecting to happen right now?”

“I expect to be compensated. I expect not to have to pay for this meal, either. I expect she’ll be dealt with accordingly.”

“And how do you think she should be dealt with?”

“I’d fire her if she were my employee.”

My mouth dropped but I refrained from using colourful language. Truth was, I was outraged, probably more so than him, and it wasn’t about the damn wine spilling on his fucking stupid, ugly suit, either. It was knowing what it was like to be on the receiving end of bastards like him. I’d had a few run-ins with shitty customers trying to make me feel little and pathetic, but this… this was just despicable. I was tempted to shove my plate aside and leave Dr Obsessed-With-Death behind, but I didn’t want the waitress fired, and I’d vouch for her if I had to when the owner arrived.

It was the sudden silence that tore me out of my angry thoughts. Then, footsteps could be heard, growing louder and closer as the seconds passed. I saw the waitress first, slinking feet behind a suited man that had his hands in his pockets as he strode to us. Everything about him screamed strength and confidence and familiarity too. I swallowed hard as my eyes looked up that marvellously hard body and into the solemn face of Borden.

Fuck. Fuck. Would I ever escape this man?

He didn’t even acknowledge me as he stopped at the table, his gaze focused on Joel.

“What’s the problem?” he demanded, cutting straight to the point.

Joel’s eyes had widened at the sight of Borden. He was just as surprised as me. We were probably thinking the same thing. Since when did Borden own this restaurant on top of all the other places he had?

“There’s no problem,” I suddenly said, drawing his attention for a quick moment.

“I’m not talking to you, doll,” Borden replied, pointing to Joel. “I’m talking to the doctor here.”

Joel straightened himself and motioned to the waitress and then to his red stained shirt. “There was an incident.”

Borden’s eyes didn’t travel to his shirt. He kept them firmly directed to Joel’s face instead as he gritted out, “Explain.”

“She spilled wine on me, some of it’s on my food, too.”

“So what do you want?”

Joel paused, clearly taken aback by the question. It was fairly obvious what he wanted, but I supposed he hadn’t anticipated actually having to say it. “I’d like some compensation, at least. It was a four hundred dollar shirt, Mr Borden.”

My breath had thinned at the exchange of words. Everything felt tense and unsteady, like we were balancing on a thread and a single snap would send us into peril. Borden was indecipherable, his gaze rock hard in place, while Joel tried his best to appear as assertive and cool as possible. He was failing. I could see the beads of sweat begin to form at his temple, and what was made worse was we had the attention of the entire restaurant. Faces were turned in our direction, silently observing a man pretty much asking Borden to hand him four hundred fucking dollars.

Borden stared at Joel for several moments. Then, he pulled out a wallet from his pocket and opened it. My mouth dropped again in shock as Borden slowly produced one hundred dollar bill after the other, all the while levelling Joel with a stare that reminded me of how intimidating he was at the club and diner. He was scary. Fuck, he could possibly be the scariest man ever to grace my life. So why the fuck did my insides warm at that? Why did fear suddenly feel so arousing?

Joel relaxed in his seat, his mouth perking up just a tad as he watched the four bills leave Borden’s wallet. But Borden didn’t hand the money over. Instead, he tore his eyes from Joel and glanced back at the waitress standing behind him. He motioned her over, and she hesitantly obeyed. Wrapping an arm around her shoulder, he brought her to his side and slowly shoved the four hundred dollar bills down her top, nestling them into her bra.

“Go,” he then demanded.

With wide eyes, she turned away and hurried to the back of the restaurant. Borden turned back to Joel.

“Now let’s take care of that problem of yours,” he told him.

I nearly jumped as Hawke suddenly emerged from behind Joel. I’d been so consumed in Borden, I hadn’t realized we were surrounded by Borden’s men. Hawke took him by the arm and shoved him up to his feet, forcing him steady. Not a second went by before his suit jacket was violently pulled off and the buttons of Joel’s shirt went flying. It took Hawke seconds before it was completely off of him and thrown languidly on the floor by his feet.

“There,” Borden muttered, tilting his head at the piece of fabric. “No shirt, no problem.”

Joel’s eyes were wide as saucers. “But…she spilled wine on me! This wasn’t my fault!”

“She spilled wine on you and in return you treated her like shit,” Borden snapped back, his nostrils flaring. “She’s my employee, an asset to my business, and you walked all over that asset. Therefore, you walked all over me.”

Joel’s face reddened as he stood there for several moments, in nothing but his suit pants and undershirt on. He caught the look of all the diners around us, and that face grew redder.

“Joel,” I whispered to him urgently, leaning over the table, “just apologize.”

“Apologize?” he repeated in shock. “I didn’t do anything! This man’s the lunatic!”

I winced and shut my eyes. Dear God, what the hell had he done? Was he looking for a death wish?

“Lunatic?” Borden repeated carefully.

Joel didn’t reply. I could see it was beginning to dawn on him just how much he had fucked up. He glanced around the men again, this time looking more scared by the minute.

“I’m a lunatic, is that what you’re saying?” Borden asked, those eyes burning holes through the man.

“We should go now,” I told Joel just then.

“I agree,” Borden cut in coolly. “Here, let me help you.”