The Royal Elite: Mattias
and she decides to forgive my 'indiscretion', then I don't see that happening.” The reminder of his conversation with Alannah annoyed Mattias all over again.
    “Either way, we'll be keeping tabs on her. I have a feeling she's not done with you yet.” Chayton's features tilted into lines of amusement, a brief flash before it was gone.
    Mattias snorted. “We'll see about that.”
    A trio of urgent knocks brought the conversation up short.
    Mattias caught Chayton's eye. Exchanging a curious glance, Mattias set down his tumbler, expecting to see an angry Alannah waiting in the hall. Maybe Chayton was right. Maybe Alannah wasn't done with him after all.
    Approaching on silent feet, Chayton snagged the knob and opened the door with an abrupt swing. Instead of Alannah, one of Ahsan's personal guards stood there wearing a sober, serious expression.
    “Prince Afshar asks for you,” the man said to Mattias in heavily accented English.
    “What seems to be the problem?” Mattias had been around Ahsan's men long enough to know when something was up. Ahsan was not in the habit of sending guards to Mattias or Chayton or any of the other members of the Elite unless there was a problem.
    “He has been in an altercation. Is in an altercation. Can you come?” The man looked between Chayton and Mattias as he backed slowly away from the door. As if luring them, coaxing the men to follow.
    Mattias traded another look with Chayton, this one more bemused than the one before. An altercation? Ahsan, a man of fierce spirit and sometimes short temper, never needed help in a fight. Mattias could tell Chayton was thinking the same thing. Why had Ahsan sent for Mattias, unless it had to do with Alannah?
    “Where is he?” Mattias asked, as he stepped into the corridor.
    “In the great hall. This way.” Ahsan's guard aimed for the staircase leading to the first floor.
    Mattias split from Chayton, who diverted toward Alannah's suite, and descended to the main level on the guard's heels. Confident Chayton could cover Miss Astbury for the time being, he prepared himself for the upcoming confrontation.

Chapter Six
    Mattias walked into a scene of chaos. In the great hall, where many guests had gathered, he discovered an annoyed looking Ahsan staring down none other than Mumford Cleary. The middle aged billionaire with the paunch and full head of brown hair sported a fat lip and growing bruise over one cheek. His clothing—khaki slacks, baby blue button down and camel colored blazer—sat askew on his body. Security hovered around both men, appearing hesitant to do more than stand between them. Ahsan, as far as Mattias could tell, didn't have a scratch on him.
    Guests whispered between themselves, caught up in the unexpected confrontation. Some of the single women took advantage of the situation, sidling close to bachelors and striking up conversation in the guise of concerned curiosity. Antonia lurked at the fringe of the commotion not far from his position, then departed the hall after a waitstaff member whispered something in her ear.
    “I said, take another step back, boy,” Cleary stated through clenched teeth. He snatched a linen handkerchief from one of his security members and dabbed at his lip. The cloth came away with a minor patch of red.
    Ahsan stood his ground, aggressive and unwilling to move. “First things first—I'm not your boy. Second, I'll move when I'm damn well good and ready and not a moment before. Next time, watch where you're walking.”
    Cruising into the outer circle of men, Mattias made eye contact with Ahsan, a clear question in his gaze. Ahsan wasn't the type of man who started fights for no reason, and Mattias thought it prudent to find out exactly what was going on.
    Ahsan cut a quick look his way, and in that single glance, Mattias discerned this had something to do with Alannah. It could just be suspicion on Ahsan's part, but Mattias as well as the rest of the men had learned long ago to listen to gut

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