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My heart smashes into my chest.
It’s one thing to insult me, but insulting my family is crossing the line.
I graze the trigger.
Benny doesn’t move.
Cockiness burns on his face.
The room grows silent.
I’m not sure how much time passes until there’s a loud bang on the door.
I jump, causing my finger to jerk and brush the trigger. The gun firing almost knocks me on my ass.
My mouth falls open, and I scramble backward as the bullet buzzes by Benny’s head, nearly missing him.
Oh my God.
I am so dead.
Benny doesn’t wince at the gunshot.
Nor does he freak out when a drop of blood falls onto the carpet next to his shoe. Another one of his cruel laughs leaves him when he presses his palm to his ear, holds it up, and shows me the blood.
I don’t get the chance to reply.
Three men shuffle into the room and take in the scene. The same ones who took the man from earlier grab my arms.
“Let her go,” Benny demands, waving them off. “She won’t hurt anyone. Her aim is pathetic.”
I glare at him. “I missed on purpose.”
He levels his gaze on me. “Don’t step foot in my club again.”
CHAPTERTWO
BENNY
“Benny!She was crazy! I didn’t even do anything!”
I rub my temples and stare at the ugly motherfucker Neomi stabbed. Kurt is tied to a chair in ourutility closet—AKA the soundproof room where we torture idiots. His hands are bound in front of him, and blood drips down his chin. My men must’ve already started the fun.
My turn.
Kurt isn’t a stranger.
He was banned from the club after groping one of our bartenders. I warned him there’d be serious consequences if he returned.
You don’t fuck with my employees, and you don’t harass women in my club.
Period.
Kurt is in his late twenties, a post–frat boy who hasn’t accepted that his glory days are over. I’d guess his favorite pharmaceutical is the date-rape kind.
I punch him in the jaw. “Did I say you could speak?”
Kurt bows his head and whimpers.
