Carmen reveled in the growl of her new Aston Martin Vanquish S Volante as she put the beauty through its paces. The smell of new car and leather permeated the air as she sped through the city. She couldn’t resist stroking the luxurious red leather interior and gleaming panels. Getting a new car definitely improved her mood. She loved her gold Ferrari, but when she pulled up to the lot and saw this beast, she knew she would be driving it off the lot within the hour. As the saying goes, money talked, and she didn’t mind dropping buckets of it to get her way.

She pulled into the parking lot of a gentlemen’s club called the Red Diamond. The parking lot was full of flashy cars and limos that provided shuttle service to and from The Strip. She found a spot in the back lot and stepped out of the Aston. She took two steps back to admire it. The exterior was so shiny; it looked like polished chrome. The Aston was sleek, powerful, and sexy.

Carmen strutted to the back entrance and rapped a distinct pattern on the door. She glanced up at the camera and blew a kiss. The door opened to reveal a behemoth standing in the doorway with a craggy face, which showed no emotion.

“Hey, boss,” he said.

“Hey, Phil.” She went up on tiptoes to kiss him on the cheek. “How’s life?”

“Haven’t gotten shot or stabbed in a year so I’d say life is good,” he rumbled.

“Slow year?”

“You wish.”

“Is Kiki here?”

“Yup. In her office.”

“Great.”

Carmen walked into a dressing room with well-lit vanities, a wall of hooker heels in every color, and props for the shows. Seeing this room filled her with memories of her stripping days, but it felt like a lifetime ago. The music from the club reverberated through the walls and made her heartbeat pick up speed. The beat beckoned her to indulge. She would, but she had business to see to first.

She stopped in front of a mirror and admired her gunmetal strappy heels. After she picked up the Aston Martin, she went to The Look, the boutique the woman in Incognito recommended. She dropped fifteen thousand on some pieces and became fast friends with the owner who waited on her hand and foot. Tonight’s ensemble was definitely inspired by her new ride.

Slowly, she undid the sash of her short black trench coat and revealed the silver shift dress beneath. Liquid silk brushed over her skin. It was a barely there dress that hugged every curve and left little to the imagination. The shift rode high on her thighs and made her feel as if she didn’t have anything on at all. She leaned toward the mirror to examine her porn star makeup job—the larger than life eyes, perfect lips, and flawless face. She shrugged off her trench coat and headed out of the dressing room.

The music intensified, and the urge to join the fun increased. Her palms tingled as she nodded to mingling security and called the elevator. The moment the doors closed, the music disappeared. She took a breath to clear her head and examined her outfit, which she was obsessed with. Sweet and sexy. She liked the contrast. In the past, she went for straight-up sex, but her taste was changing like so many other things. Even with the Aston, she went for a slightly subtler sexy than her Ferrari, and she was digging it.

The doors opened, and she stepped into a quiet hallway with a wall of tinted glass that looked out at the Red Diamond. A gold, glittering stage took up one end of the club and flowed into a long runway lined with stripper poles that divided the club in two. Six girls twirled dreamily to the music. A hazy ruby light highlighted smaller stages around the club. She appreciated the glint of gold throughout the club which included the bar, chairs, and trays of the servers moving through the crowd. The Red Diamond was filled to capacity. She walked down the hallway to Kiki’s office and nodded to the armed guard who moved aside as she approached. She gave a cursory knock before she entered.

The office looked as respectable and classy as any executive’s aside from a few eccentricities. Gold framed nudes hung on the black velvet walls, and the room was littered with life-size copper and silver sculptured men. At the far end of the soundproof office was an impressive walnut desk occupied by a formidable woman smoking a cigar. She looked up through a cloud of smoke. Her forbidding expression disappeared when she recognized Carmen. A genuine smile curved her hard mouth. Kiki rose and stood six-foot-three in six-inch stilettos.

“Give me a fucking hug, girlie,” Kiki said.

Carmen ran to her friend and was caught up in a bone-crushing hug. Kiki pulled back and examined her. “You’re looking good, chickie.”

“So do you.”

Even at sixty-three, Kiki was a sight to behold in a red tailored jumpsuit, diamond choker, slick ponytail, and flawless makeup job. Kiki went to the wet bar in the corner and poured Carmen a glass of whiskey.

“I haven’t seen you since Vinny’s funeral,” Kiki said.

“I’ve been keeping my cousin company.”

“The one who married Gavin Pyre?”

“Yes. They had a baby a couple of months back.”

Kiki handed her the glass and perched on the edge of the desk. “How are you doing?”

“Better.”

“You look it.” Kiki let out a stream of smoke before she said, “What the fuck is happening in the underworld?”

Carmen held her gaze. “I’m sure you already know.”

Kiki had connections, murky ones that Carmen wasn’t interested in digging up.

“Angel Roman is the new head honcho?”

“Yup.”

“What about New York?”

“There’s more than one Roman brother.”

Kiki grunted. “And Roque will be out soon. Fuck.”

Carmen frowned and opened her mouth but thought better of it. She was out of underworld business. The less she knew, the better. She took a healthy swallow of whiskey and enjoyed the burn. Her foot bounced, which betrayed her eagerness to join the madness just beyond these walls.

“Why’s Pyre stepping down?” Kiki asked.

“My cousin.”

Kiki eyed her intently. “Your cousin slayed in the Pit. They’re the perfect couple to rule the underworld. No one would dare fuck with them.”

So Lyla’s exploits were already on the streets. Carmen resisted the urge to beam with pride. “They have a daughter, and Lyla’s not interested in underworld politics.”

Kiki made a disgusted smacking sound with her lips. “Fucking love.”

Carmen toasted her. “Fucking love.” It was the strongest force on the planet. Nothing on earth could erase your memories of a loved one who left you behind. All she could do was carry on the best she could without him.

“Business would be easier without having to deal with a new crime lord.”

“Angel Roman has bigger things to deal with than us.”

“I hope you’re right. Vega never bothered with us during his reign.”

She tensed. “You knew it was him?”

Kiki frowned. “Of course, not. I would have told you if I knew. I fucking loved Vinny.”

She downed the rest of her drink. “Right.”

Vega playing mind games with them really fucked her up. She tried to shoot Marcus and was even questioning her business partner who she’d known almost a decade. She stepped on stage for the first time on her twenty-first birthday. Kiki taught her everything she knew about confidence, seduction, and men.

When Kiki hit a rough patch, Carmen used her stripper savings to bail her out and became a silent partner for the Red Diamond. The gentlemen’s club flourished and became the most popular in the city. Carmen found it ironic that people labeled her a gold digger when she was a millionaire in her own right. Vinny was the only one who knew about her connection to the club. When Gavin needed dirt, Vinny gave her the nudge, and she visited Kiki to get the goods on the high-end clientele who frequented the club. It had been mutually beneficial for all of them.

“Even those who reported directly to Vega didn’t know his identity. His name’s everywhere since Pyre tortured him in the Pit. Apparently, Pyre’s whole crew was quite spectacular.”

Her curiosity was piqued, but she didn’t rise to the bait. She didn’t need to know. If she knew how close to death Lyla had been, it would bring up all the shit she was trying to leave in the past. She came out tonight to let loose and reconnect with Kiki.

“Gavin endorses Angel. That’s all that matters.”

Kiki inclined her head. “Right. I’m sure Pyre will tell him we provided the dirt to blackmail his competitors. That could come in handy for Roman.”

“We’ll worry about it if it happens.” She set the empty glass on the desk. “Now, what do you have for me?”

Kiki went behind the desk and became all business. Before Carmen became a silent partner, the Red Diamond was a ghetto strip joint. Once she started dating Vinny, she developed the VIP side of the business and turned it into a high-end gentlemen’s club. She and Kiki became wealthy bitches. Over the years, they nurtured their relationships with the casinos and their clientele. Kiki had the club running like a well-oiled machine, and business was booming.

“You look better than ever,” Kiki said as they left the office and caught the elevator to the second floor.

“Thanks,” she said and shifted restlessly as the elevator slowly traveled down.

“That dress is going to cause a riot.”

Carmen beamed. “That’s what I’m hoping for.”

The elevator doors opened. The level of noise would have knocked a lesser person backward, but Carmen stepped forward eagerly. Two guards stepped aside to let them pass. The second floor had shadowed alcoves for semi-private shows or parties that overlooked the main floor, which catered to the masses.

“We have two bachelor parties tonight. Eight of the ten VIP rooms are occupied, and the limo drivers are bringing guys in groups of ten or more,” Kiki shouted as they walked down the gold staircase.

On stage, four girls danced with fans, boas, and thongs. The Red Diamond kept up a steady stream of entertainment from old Hollywood numbers to twerking and everything in between. The later the hour, the more risqué the show became. What happened on stage satisfied the public and critics while the real shit went on behind closed doors.

The main floor had clusters of chairs surrounding solo platforms, which put the girls within touching distance. Bouncers were everywhere. Carmen and Kiki weaved between hyped men and servers wearing skirts and bikini tops. It was Carmen’s type of bedlam. She inhaled cigar smoke with relish and slapped the ass of a passing stripper she hadn’t seen in ages and received a boob squeeze in return. Several men reached for her as she passed. One hand skated over her belly before Kiki took her hand. Her imposing presence made the men think twice about waylaying her.

They found a seat at the bar. Carmen blew a kiss to the bartender and surveyed the club while Kiki talked. It was hard to concentrate when her surroundings called to the wildness inside her. Her need to push the limits led her to the stage. Being a dancer brought out her love of role playing, and when she danced, she felt alive and free. People thought strippers were at a man’s mercy, yet in her experience, it was the other way around. She never felt more in control than when she worked the stage. Money rained down, and anything was possible.

Vinny replaced the stage, booze, and anything else that she indulged in to sate her inner demons. He became her everything, and now, he was gone, and the taste for something dark and uncivilized made her insides salivate. Her body ached from yesterday’s exploits, but she was hungry for more. Walking through her old hunting grounds was like parading a recovering alcoholic in front of a bar.

The music shifted from old Hollywood to hard rock, and the stage lights began to flash. Girls wearing lingerie or mesh dresses strutted down the catwalk and began to climb the poles. Carmen accepted a shot from the bartender and downed it without looking to see what it was. She couldn’t take her eyes off the dancers writhing to the beat. Seeing the girls embrace the moment brought back memories of a simpler time when life was about fun and games and not death and loss.

“Hey, baby.” A man with spiky hair and a sweat-stained button up eyed her as if she were a meal. “Can I get you a drink?”

“No.” Mr. Hip wasn’t going to do it for her. Even if he was the best fuck in the room (which she doubted), he wasn’t going to quench her hunger. Tonight was about reminding herself who the fuck she was.

She leaned to the side to watch as a dancer did a ridiculous trick on the pole that had the men around her tossing twenty-dollar bills on her platform. Carmen’s toes curled in her shoes as the need to toss all inhibitions into the wind hit her.

“I don’t think she’s interested,” Kiki said to the guy and turned back to her. “You fucked since Vinny?”

Carmen nodded.

Kiki patted her on the back. “I’m happy for you. Are you looking for a replacement?”

“No,” she said as she fisted her hands in her lap.

“You been on a pole lately?” Kiki asked dryly.

“I have, actually.”

“Can you dance like this?” Kiki asked, fingering her shift dress.

Carmen gave her a deadpan look that made her grin. “Rock You Like A Hurricane” hit the speakers, and her shaky control snapped. Kiki’s delighted laughter followed her as she shoved her way through the crowd. She hopped on a table to get on the main stage. The men cheered excitedly, thinking she was a housewife gone crazy. Two strippers paused in their twirling to stare and then smile in welcome when they recognized her. She strutted down the runway as if she owned it. Technically, she did, but the men watching her didn’t know that.

She got down on her hands and knees and prowled across the glittering stage, very aware that she was giving everyone a great view of the scrap of white lace masquerading as underwear. She crawled toward one of the dancers who hung upside down. Carmen rose to her knees and grasped handfuls of Mercedes’s hair and leaned close. Out of the corner of her eyes, she saw men crowding around the stage to get in position to see their lips touch.

Mercedes eyes sparkled with mischief. “Hey, chica. Where you been?”

“Around.”

“Those are bomb shoes.”

“I know, right? I got them at The Look,” she said as she stroked her hair. “How are the kids?”

“Good. Barry’s gonna be happy to hear I saw you. He’s been worried about you.”

“Tell him I said hi,” Carmen said before she kissed her.

Mercedes accepted the kiss eagerly and slid her tongue into Carmen’s mouth. Carmen was happy to discover that Mercedes penchant for sweets hadn’t changed. She found a hard caramel candy and took it for herself and felt the brush of money around her thighs. Their mouths parted, and the men went wild when they saw tongue.

“Have a great night,” Carmen said.

Mercedes’s eyes flicked to the money littered over the stage and grinned. “I already am.”

Carmen winked and tossed her hair as she slid over the dollar bills to an empty pole. Her mini dress slithered over her sensitive skin. She blocked out the roar of the crowd and soared with the amazing guitar solo. She arched her back and saw a captivated audience watching her. She smiled and imagined that the money that rained over her were flower petals. She rose slowly, using the pole as leverage with her ass out. She paraded around the pole and licked it, which made the men go crazy. One show of tongue and men forgot their names. She felt alive, desirable, and invincible.

“Man in the Box” by Alice In Chains saturated the club in sex and fantasy. Carmen moved slowly, sensuously. Men weren’t here to be impressed by tricks but liked to imagine they were the pole. She made her movements jerky and sluggish to match the song. She absorbed the energy of the crowd and let it fill the emptiness inside her. She lost herself in the music, lights, and pulse of lust. It coated her as surely as the sweat that slid over her skin. She swiveled her hips, played with her hair, and stared boldly at the men lining the stage to be near her. The power she felt being on stage made her feel as if there was a sunburst in her chest. Here, she ruled. Here, she knew who she was. Here, everything was simple. She was a woman in charge of her sexuality, and these men were her slaves, here to worship their fantasy in the flesh.

Songs transitioned, and she let her body take over. She forgot about the audience unless a man tried to take the stage and was immediately restrained by the security working overtime tonight. She partied her ass off and enjoyed teasing the onlookers with slow kisses and caresses by the other dancers. She had her back against a pole and had Taryn kissing a path up her legs when she saw a familiar face in the crowd. She stiffened, and Taryn stopped on her upper thighs and patted her butt.

“Okay?” Taryn asked in a muffled voice.

Even as she hoped her mind was playing tricks on her, the crowd parted again, and she saw him. Angel leaned back against the bar, watching her. He wore a white shirt tucked into well-fitted slacks. His belt buckle caught the light as he shifted when they made eye contact. A smile curved his mouth, and he shook his head chidingly. His presence intruded on her adrenaline high.

Taryn rose and kissed her cheek. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” she said.

Taryn prowled to the edge of the stage and humped the stage to the absolute delight of the crowd. Carmen didn’t move her eyes from Angel. What the fuck was he doing here? This was her haven, her business … not that he knew that. This was the second time in a matter of days that she ran into him. Shouldn’t he be doing gun battles in the ghetto, not watching strippers dance in a gentlemen’s club?

Angel raised his hand and beckoned with one finger. He did not just … He did it again. He crooked his pointer finger at her as if she were a naughty child or a dog. Who the fuck did he think he was? She didn’t have a keeper. She was a free agent. She called the shots, not some Roman, even if he was the new crime lord.

Carmen grasped the edge of her shift and lifted it over her head. The outbreak of cheers, hollering, and shouting overpowered the music. She dropped the silk shift on the stage and faced Angel in her white lace lingerie set, which she had been waiting to reveal at the perfect moment. The moment she picked it out today, she knew her night would end here. The tulle cups embroidered with a silky floral pattern were utterly feminine and more suited to a bride’s wedding night than a stripper stage. Her demure outfit stood out among the neon, animal print, or solid red or black the other strippers wore. If the men looked hard enough, they’d see her nipples through the sheer fabric. She put her hands on her hips and raised a brow at Angel. He couldn’t touch her. This was her territory, her power spot. He was just passing through.

Angel dropped his hand. She was too far away to decipher his expression, but she didn’t fucking care. She could do whatever she wanted. His opinion didn’t enter into the equation. She climbed the pole and let muscle memory take over. She hugged the pole with her legs and twirled slowly. Time passed, and her muscles protested, but she blocked it all out. She hadn’t felt this empowered in years.

She was twirling upside down with only one leg holding her weight when she caught sight of Angel again. This time, he sat in front of the stage, hands steepled as he watched her with laser focus. She straightened and revolved slowly until she reached the stage, which was littered with money. She landed on her knees and rotated her hips as she faced Angel. Men jockeyed for position on either side of him.

Angel rose and took two steps to reach the stage. He held out a hand. When a guard tried to push him back, Angel said something that made the man back off. What the hell? She considered ignoring him, but she had a feeling he was seconds away from leaping on stage to fetch her. She slipped on her dress before she prepared to scoot over the edge, but Angel grabbed her arm and yanked her off, along with a handful of bills. Instead of setting her on the ground, he carried her to the bar with her clamped to his side. He set her on a stool and faced the crowd of men.

“Get lost,” Angel said.

Some of the men dispersed, but a respectably large group remained. She could practically hear them panting for a chance to taste or touch. She had been the best dancer for a reason. Most girls didn’t want to be on the main stage since they didn’t make many tips, but it was the only place Carmen could dance where the bouncers could control the crowd. Most dancers made the most money in the VIP lounge or from lap dances, but she excelled on stage, the ultimate fantasy come to life. Despite the precarious situation, she was fucking giddy. Her arms and legs felt like jelly, but she was so fucking jazzed. She still had it.

Two men sidled up beside Angel. She recognized them from Gavin’s security team. The trio knocked some sense into the last of the lust-dazed men. They turned away and shouted for lap dances.

She grabbed a twenty-dollar bill clinging to her leg and slapped it on the bar. “Drinks?”

She took the chilled water bottle the bartender slipped her and took long gulps. When she lowered it, she found all three men staring at her.

Angel grabbed her wrist and yanked her off the stool. “I need to talk to you in private.”

“About what?”

He didn’t answer. He dragged her toward the gold staircase. Three men tried to waylay them. Their eyes were focused on her. They didn’t even seem to register his presence. Angel punched a guy in his path and nearly dislocated another man’s knee when he lashed out with his shiny shoes. The third man stepped aside.

“What the fuck?” she snapped.

Angel faced off with the bouncers guarding access to the second level and flashed a card with the Red Diamond logo on it.

“You paid for VIP access?” she asked.

He shot her a hooded glance. “I want the whole experience.”

“What does that mean?”

Angel pulled her into a VIP room. She hoped it was occupied and was disappointed to find it empty. He pulled her inside and slammed the door behind them. He released her, and she put her hands on her hips.

“What the hell is your problem?”

“I don’t believe in coincidence,” Angel said.

She blinked. “What?”

“If you’d been the nanny, this would have been easier. Now you’re the nanny, the informer, and the stripper?” He shook his head in mock regret. “You can’t expect me not to make a play.”

A mixture of alarm and excitement coursed through her veins. “Angel.”

He approached slowly. She resisted the urge to run since that would only spur him on. Angel wasn’t playing the indulgent, laid back host as he had at his home. His body was rigid with tension—a tension he thought he would work out right here, right now. Her inner slut screamed at her to go for it. The same euphoric feeling she got while dancing, she could get from Angel … and then some.

“Does Gavin know about this?” he asked as he stopped in front of her, so close she could feel his body heat.

She tapped her chin thoughtfully. “You know, I’ve never felt the need to tell Gavin what my plans are every night … and I doubt he would care.”

“He’d care.”

There wasn’t a shred of doubt in his voice.

“Gavin knows I can handle myself,” she said.

“You were about to cause a riot.”

“I wasn’t the only one dancing.”

“No, but you were the only one doing it right.”

“Excuse me?”

“You were born for the stage,” he said as he ran a hand through her tangled hair as if he had every right to. “You dance because you love it while the others are there for the money. Men can tell the difference.”

Their eyes locked, and her breath seized. His thumb stroked over her fluttering pulse, and her nipples tightened.

“You abandon yourself on stage. All any man can think about is how you’ll be in bed.”

His voice was low with the promise of sex. When he leaned forward and licked her sweaty collarbone, she shuddered. His hands slid down her sides and stopped on her hips.

“You were created to give yourself to a man so he can lavish you with pleasure.” He sucked on her neck, and she bit back a moan. “You know you’re the ideal woman for me, don’t you?”

“I’m not,” she whispered and fought the urge to let her eyes shut.

“I recognize another wild soul when I see one. I wouldn’t try to tame you. I would unleash you, Carmen. It would be glorious.”

He kissed her. She was swamped with his taste—dark, elusive, barbaric. He picked her up and pinned her on the couch beneath him. He licked her neck as he ground himself against her. His bulge was right there … Her hips bucked, and he swore.

“This fucking dress,” he growled as he grasped a handful of silk. His hot hand slipped beneath the fabric and splayed over her quivering belly. “You knew what you were doing up there. You were hoping it would end like this, right? That’s not the only place you can get a high, baby.”

Her demons were shrieking at her to take what he offered. She was lost in the intoxicating weight pinning her, his words, and the hand stroking her. It wasn’t until she heard the hiss of his zipper that she came back to herself.

She had sex with Marcus yesterday. Even though they weren’t in a relationship, she’d never slept with two different men a day apart. Angel would be a great fuck (phenomenal, probably), but she would regret it. She knew it as surely as she knew the sun would rise in a couple of hours. Angel tried to hide his true colors behind a cool demeanor, but she saw fleeting glimpses of his true nature—lust, greed, possessiveness. Nope. Men like Angel and Gavin wouldn’t be able to handle her. She needed to be free to be herself, and they wouldn’t allow it. Vinny didn’t force her to stop dancing. She quit on her own when she realized the high came from him, not strangers. Dominant men like Angel would enjoy her wild side for a while and then try to tamp it down or snuff it out when they couldn’t control her.

She covered his hand with hers and felt his cock through the thin material of his underwear. She swallowed hard.

“No,” she said hoarsely.

His eyes were narrow slits of lust. “What?”

She pressed both hands on his chest, but he didn’t budge. She was on her back, legs splayed on either side of him, and he was in a position to penetrate. Belatedly, she remembered the cameras and hoped Kiki wasn’t watching.

“We’re not going to have sex,” she said.

When she tried to sit up, his hand clamped on her thigh to keep her in place.

“Why?”

She glared at him. “Because I said so.”

She wasn’t prepared for his hand to probe between her legs. She shrieked and clamped her thighs together, but it was too late.

He licked his lips. “You’re wet.”

“It’s sweat.”

“Don’t lie to me.”

His fingers stroked, and she jerked.

“Angel, stop!”

His head dipped, and she heard him inhale. She went rigid when she realized he was trying to smell her arousal. She smacked his head. For a second, he looked stunned and then he roared with laughter. He dropped his face to her chest and nuzzled.

“I can’t remember the last time a woman hit me.”

“You deserve it. You’re so sure of yourself.” She hissed when he searched for her nipple. She grabbed a handful of hair and jerked his head up. “No.”

“Come on, Carmen. We both want it.”

His fingers curled again, and she bit back a curse. She grabbed his thick wrist and forcibly yanked his fingers out from between her legs. His head dropped to her groin. She had to use both hands to keep him away from her pussy, which was begging to be licked. She was amused and turned on and didn’t know what to do with him.

“No,” she said as her inner slut begged to be fucked.

“What the hell? You want this. It’s not like you’re with someone.”

“You don’t know that.”

Angel cocked his head. “You’re with someone?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

“I don’t need a fuck.”

He jerked his head at her vagina. “Apparently you do. She’s hungry for dick, baby.”

Carmen shoved, and this time he rocked back. She gained her feet and yanked her dress down. When she turned to confront Angel, she saw that he had his fingers in his mouth. Words dried up in her throat. He withdrew his fingers and cursed.

“Fuck. I didn’t go deep enough. I can’t taste you.”

Her legs wobbled. She wagged her finger at him. “We’re family.”

“By marriage.”

“Same thing.”

“No, it isn’t.”

“You’re inappropriate.”

“You’re the one dancing at a strip club.”

“Gentlemen’s club.”

“Same thing.”

That pricked her professional pride. “No, it isn’t.”

He got to his feet and zipped his pants. His erection was painfully obvious. She wanted nothing more than to kneel and blow him, but that wasn’t happening. She waved a hand in front of her face in a vain attempt to disperse the sexual tension.

“This isn’t happening,” she said.

“Then I need someone to take care of what you started.”

“I can arrange that,” she said.

She had her hand on the doorknob when he called her name. She hesitated before she looked back. Her control quaked as she took him in. He was virile, attractive, and dangerous. His eye contact made her feel as if she was the only woman in the world, but she knew his type. Angel would fuck her mindless and then turn to the next woman without a thought like Gavin. No, this was better for both of them.

“I don’t want you dancing without backup,” he said.

It took her a moment to register what he said. “There’s security everywhere.”

“It would only take a moment for them to hurt you.”

“I can handle myself.”

“I don’t care. How’d you end up on stage anyway?”

She gave him a one-shoulder shrug. “They played Guns N’ Roses.”

His smirked. “Is that the song that makes you drop your panties? I’ll remember that for next time.”

She gave him the middle finger as she opened the door and slammed it behind her. Gavin’s guards were waiting in the hallway and tried to hide their smirks. She glared at them before she turned on her heel. She caught the elevator to the first floor, nodded to Phil and left out the back door. When she collapsed in her car, she called Kiki.

“You forget to tell me something about you and the new crime lord?” Kiki asked.

“It’s nothing. Send him someone who will take care of him.”

“No problem.”

“I’ll see you later.” Carmen hung up and dropped her head on the steering wheel. Her harsh breaths filled the silent interior of the Aston. Her legs were shaking, and her underwear was soaked. “Fucking Angel.”