Page 14 of Pretty Lies

He smirked.

It was sexy, yes. Mix his swagger and charm with the power and control he exuded, and the man became a hurricane of everything attractive and forbidden. Except he also taught her a valuable lesson—she didn’t like to be hurt.

“Just missing you, pretty thing,” he returned gruffly.

Then, Luis’s gaze cut to J behind her. Della’s brother stiffened.

“Say it,” he urged her ex.

“J.”

Her warning went right over J’s head.

It had taken her all of ten seconds to realize that Luis had come at the worst time. After she got there, her brother sent the rest of the guys away. Any protection he had inside the club was probably just out of reach, if he even had any. Was the place mob connected?

She didn’t know.

But her ex?

Luis had six guys behind him.

All muscle.

She didn’t recognize one of them.

Their tatts told her a lot, though.

Definitely gang.

“What,” Della said strongly, meeting Luis’s gaze, “do you want?”

Men always needed to be put back on task.

“A conversation, Dell.”

She cringed at his nickname.

It’d never really been her thing.

Della—that’s what she liked.

It’s who she was.

“The lack of phone calls and shit didn’t tell you I might not want to talk?” she asked.

He shrugged one distressed leather-clad shoulder. “Better to let you calm down, loca.”

Nice.

The crazy comment—like it was meant to be affectionate—had her annoyed all over again in a blink. Not that it mattered. She wouldn’t even give him anger anymore.

“Just a conversation?” she asked.

Because if she could get him out of the club, then she had a feeling that would be better for everyone in the place. She highly doubted J was slumming it in a business that wouldn’t offer him some kind of protection being who he was.

No doubt, someone was watching.

Waiting.