QUINN

Silence descended through the club—thick, deafening, and just enough to shut them all up. Jack shoved me behind him, his surprisingly broad back instantly making me feel invisible and protected.

“What the fuck did you just say?” a voice boomed as Daniel's face twisted into the deepest shade of red. He spat out his drink, stepped off his chair like it was a throne, and stormed over, his hand shooting out to grab me—but Jack casually shrugged him aside.

“I said don't touch her.” Jack snapped, his voice low yet lethal.

“Who the hell are you?”

“I don't need to repeat myself.”

“You do,” Daniel sneered. “Quinn is my...