"Say that again. Those injuries were inflicted by someone?" Gavin Valentine shot up from his seat, his voice sharp with disbelief.

Jenna Roland took an involuntary step back, startled by his sudden intensity.

She'd never seen Gavin lose his composure like this.

Those usually playful eyes now burned with raw fury—as if she were someone he cherished deeply.

"Mr. Valentine..." Jenna frowned in confusion. "Your reaction seems... excessive."

They were barely acquaintances.

Gavin caught himself, sinking heavily back into the sofa.

He drew a slow breath, forcing calm into his voice. "The usual drink, please."

"Of course. One moment." Jenna gave a slight nod and turned to leave the private room.

The instant the door closed, Gavin yanked out his phone and dialed Tristan Ashcroft.

"Tristan!" he snarled. "Are you trying to get me killed?"

On the other end, Tristan winced at the roar in his office. "What the hell happened?"

"Jenna was assaulted at your damn club!" Gavin's voice turned glacial. "How am I supposed to explain this to Ethan?"

Tristan's stomach dropped.

He'd expected Ethan Roscente's anger—but not Gavin's visceral reaction.

"Which room are you in?" he demanded.

Upon hearing "308," Tristan rushed over immediately.

When he pushed open the door, Jenna was pouring Gavin's drink.

"Leave us," Tristan ordered.

Jenna paused, glancing at Gavin for confirmation.

Receiving none, she set down the decanter and slipped out silently.

The moment the door clicked shut, Gavin exploded.

"Did you see the gashes on her neck?" He jabbed a finger toward the exit. "A dozen of them! If Ethan finds out, we're finished!"

Tristan's jaw tightened. "I wasn't there when it happened. Chloe called about Stella's ex causing trouble. By the time I arrived, Jake Varley had already attacked her."

Gavin massaged his temples. "Damage control. Now."

"Let Jenna explain it herself," Tristan said after a beat. "We'll craft a plausible story—one that doesn't implicate us."

"You think she'll cooperate?"

"Worth a try."

Gavin lit a cigarette, inhaling deeply. "You handle it. Call me if she refuses."

Tristan gave a terse nod and left, heading straight to his office.

Minutes later, a knock sounded.

"Boss?" Jenna stood at his desk. "Patrick said you wanted to see me?"