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He was the angel to Adonis’s fallen angel.

Sexy was absolutely the word used to describe both of them.

But he was her brother, so it was gross.

“He will always be,” he said. “And if you go out the door you’ll be dead to me too.”

“Knock it off,” she said. “You’re being so dramatic.”

He snarled, “Fine. I didn’t mean it.”

“I know you don’t mean it. You’re just being a baby. I don’t have time for your drama. I’m going out. I’m going to have a good time. God knows we spent enough time not having fun, Alex. I would like to have some fun.”

“Do you have mace in your purse?”

“I have a Glock in my purse.”

That was true. It was a small one, but she was a lady who knew how to protect herself. She was rich, and tiny. So she needed to pack heat.

“Good. Use it if you need to.”

She lifted a brow. “Have you ever been given reason to believe that I wouldn’t if the occasion arose?”

“No. I still don’t like your dress,” he called after her.

She turned around to face him. “Good. If you don’t like it, that means other men will. Good night.”

She didn’t flip him off, but she considered it. He was going to be okay. He was mad now—and projecting it onto her—but they were both going to be just fine without Adonis.

Her car was waiting for her when she got down to the street, and she got into the back, careful not to flash the world when she got back out again at Oxygen.

She got out, and she didn’t have to produce ID or wait in line. Even though it wasn’t a club she frequented, she was very well known in this circle. After all, providing luxury experiences was what she did.

Because of that, they were seen as tastemakers. Any club that they deemed to be a luxury experience was instantly hotter and more in demand.

As a result, they were of course welcome at any exclusive venue the world over.

This one was no exception.

She walked in, and was instantly swallowed by the music.

Suddenly, she felt very alone.

Most people would be out with their friends.

But not her.

Because she had never really learned to have friends that weren’t her brother or Adonis.

Yes, there had been some girls her age at different times when they had lived in the abandoned buildings. But they had never stayed. A lot of kids had wound up going to social services themselves. To the police station, to a hospital. But she, Alex and Adonis had vowed never to do that. To do so would be to surrender their freedom.

Her and Alex’s house had been a terrible place. Even before their father had simply washed his hands of them.

He had been a violent man. Never to her, but definitely to her older brother.

And the one grace he’d extended them was not selling them on the black market when he had thrown them out. He’d said so.

Kids were valuable, after all.