I lean back in the chair and laugh once.
It sounds dead.
Vice looks at me. “What?”
“Turns out I can take a bullet easier than I can take not texting a woman.”
Diablo actually smiles, the bastard.
“Welcome to the club.”
“Fuck your club.”
“You wear the patch.”
“Under protest.”
Alpha’s phone pings again. His smile fades.
“What now?” Diablo asks.
Alpha looks at me.
Then at the screen.
“Lady posted.”
My heart stops.
He puts it up before anyone asks.
It is a photo of Lady’s hand, bandaged wrist visible, middle finger raised. No face. No tears. No weakness. Just her rings, chipped polish, and that furious Miami attitude in one perfect shot.
The caption underneath is short.
“Fuck your rumors. Carmen Solano had me kidnapped by the Miami Mutherfukers MC. That’s why I skipped my gig.”
For one second, no one speaks.
Then Key Rat whispers, “Damn.”
I stare at the screen until my chest hurts.
Bleeding. Furious. Not mine. Still the strongest woman in the room, even from miles away.
Then a new comment appears under her post from an anonymous account.
Ask Shady why he chose Cherry first.
My hand closes around the edge of the table.
Wood cracks under my grip.
They won’t leave her alone.
Lady’s post stays bright on the screen.
The whole city is watching now.
