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“Where the fuck did you buy the shit you put in the drink of one of our best customers at the Looking Glass? It wasn’t something I sell. Cheap, diluted, and fucking lethal. She almost died.” I step closer and press my blade to his neck, nicking his skin on purpose, watching the blood trickle to his collar.

Bradley hollers only to have Christos shove the bag into his mouth, gagging him. “Stop screaming and tell us, or we’ll make an example out of you. No one fucks with women in our clubs.” Yanking the bag from Bradley’s mouth, Christos gets in his face and spits. “Now tell us. This is your last fucking chance. We don’t have time.”

He blubbers, gasping. “I don’t—”

I swing my fist and punch the man in the face, cracking my knuckles against his jaw. “That’s not a name,” I growl, aiming my knife at his groin next. “You better fucking talk.”

Bradley opens his mouth to holler again, and I jab down, sinking the tip of my blade in half an inch, just enough to paralyze him in fear.

“I don’t know his real name. I have his number, though. He goes by Red. I can see if he will hook me up again. So you can’t hurt me. I won’t do it if you hurt me.” Bradley bares his teeth, grinding them with his empty threat.

I stab him deeper, remaining expressionless as he howls in pain, unable to cup his junk. “Let’s try that again. You’re going to arrange a meeting no matter what. Do you understand? You’re in my house. I make the rules here.”

He heaves, his chest rising and falling with his deep breathing. Nodding his head, he agrees, finally coming to his good senses.

“Bueno. Arrange it now, and I’ll think about whether or not we’ll let you go.” I swipe my blade across the zip tie, freeing one of his hands. “It’ll all depend on what happens next. Do you understand?”

Bradley dips his chin in agreement. “I’ll do whatever you want.”

I grin, turning my attention to Talon. “Good. That’s exactly what we want to hear.”

“If you try anything stupid, you’re not going to make it out of here. Call him. Leave it on speakerphone. See if he can give you the hookup tonight.” Talon looms closer, taking over the situation. He pats my shoulder. “Go see if you can find anything on Red. Take Princess with you.”

I leer at Bradley, stabbing my blade into the chair between his legs, startling him. Tipping my head back, I laugh and flip the blade closed. Stacia peeks at me from over Leandro’s shoulder, and I ignore her bodyguard as I offer her my hand. She automatically slides her fingers through mine and allows me to tug her along to my office. She trembles but doesn’t give much away. I can’t tell if she fears me or is impressed. I guess I’ll find out.

Leandro follows behind us, but I cut him off with my arm, forcing him to stop. He looks past me at the windowless room, made soundproof with extra insulation, and backs off. I think it’s the only reason he does. He can guard the only way in or out. Not that we need it here.

“Enjoy the show,” I mutter, starting to close the door on Leandro. He locks his gaze to mine, staring at me until the door clicks shut.

In here, Stacia won’t hear anything. Talon can do whatever the hell he wants and clean it up before she realizes the extent of his darker side. He didn’t receive the nickname the Executioner without good reason. I’ve heard the stories. He climbed the ladder in his chapter faster than any man. His cutthroat, power-hungry work ethic wouldn’t allow anyone to step in front of him. And from how Stacia treats him, I’m nearly certain she doesn’t realize how deadly that pendejo truly is—not that I don’t respect him. He’s loyal to those who earn it. Wanting to get his hands bloody might be the one thing holding him back. To be a true leader, he’ll need to learn how to pass on the task. He’s too controlling to think anyone else can do it right. It was obvious by him commanding me to look into this dealer.

Stacia puffs out a deep breath, shuddering in her spot. “Shit. That was intense,” she whispers under her breath, barely loud enough for me to overhear.

I squeeze her fingers, drawing her attention to me. “You’re afraid.” She’d be lying if she tried to deny it.

She doesn’t, though. She thins her lips and nods. “You stabbed a guy like it was nothing. You were smiling.”

Pulling her closer, I welcome her shivering body into my arms, wanting nothing more than to assure her that I save my twisted side for those who deserve it. “Mamacita, lo siento. I’m sorry. Forgive me, por favor. I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

Stacia sinks against me, my soft voice breaking her guard down enough for her body to realize I’m not a threat. Resting her head on my chest, she inhales slowly. The scent of her shampoo wafts around me with notes of grapefruit and vanilla, stirring something wild inside me.

“You didn’t scare me,” she whispers, trailing her hands along my sides. “I just—I don’t know what I was expecting. I don’t do well with blood, and I guess I was stupid not to consider you had a psychotic side. You’d have to, considering your...line of work.”

“I’m a businessman in a treacherous industry. As long as the demand is there, someone has to supply it. It might as well be me. I have what it takes.” I stroke my hand over her back, smoothing out the trembles. “Does it bother you?”

“No...” Her voice trails off.

“I’d never hurt you, mamacita. But everyone else? They’re fair game. No one drugs our members. No one sells on my territory. No one fucking tries to pull shit on me. Those who do will find themselves at the end of my blade.” I ease away and touch her chin, glancing into her vibrant blue eyes.

“Is it weird if that makes me feel better?” Stacia offers me a waning smile, her eyes searching mine. “Not that I was worried about you. I just—everything feels so fucked up. That pervert drugged a girl with plans to fucking rape her. What if that were me? What if Leandro hadn’t decided to ditch his meeting with Talon to leave with me? What if—”

I hug her close. “I know, Stacia. I know. I’ve thought about those things too. I let Christos take things too far that night with the confrontation. Had I kept better control over him, we’d...well, you’d have woken up alone with just a massive hangover.”

She laughs breathlessly, pulling back to pat my chest. “That’s ridiculous and crazy. I’m sure Christos can’t be controlled.”

“He sucked my cock, didn’t he?” I raise my eyebrows, studying her as she glances down. The sudden intensity of her gaze, now lingering on my body, turns me on.

“Whatever you say,” she says, surprising me by stepping even closer. Her hips brush mine, awakening my desire even more. I realize I might’ve made a mistake. She’ll be the one controlling me by my damn dick.


Tags: Ginna Moran Romance