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Carter directs us to a table where Zack, his best friend and sometimes business partner, is peering at a stack of printouts. His glasses have slid down his nose, but he’s too focused to push them up, instead running his hands through his hair. I wonder if he realizes how much he looks like his sister right now, who has episodes where she falls into her graphic novel world and seems almost crazed with the alternative reality.

“Hey, man!” I say, not sure if he’ll hear me. But he looks up easily and smiles.

“Good to see ya. Check this out, guys.” Zack turns one of the papers around to show us a real estate listing. “This is gonna be my next deal.”

A quick glance tells me that it’s a commercial property. I’m familiar with the area because it’s not too far away from the Gentlemen’s Club headquarters. “Staying in the area?”

Zack is a professional real estate investor and developer, and he actually found the building we renovated into the club. Instead of investing himself, he charged us a small finder’s fee. Evan and I made the buy, and now we have our dream set-up. I’m not surprised Zack found another prospect nearby, considering the neighborhood is going through a major rejuvenation.

“Yeah, wanted to see if you might have any insight on the seller or property?” he asks me. “Because it looks like a quick flip. In and out in a month or two, tops,” he tells Carter. I guess this one is a joint venture for them.

“Sorry, never even driven by it, so I don’t have any top-secret insider hints to help you make a deal,” I say. “But make sure you sell to someone who’ll be a good neighbor,” I warn.

Truth is, I’m not worried about any potential purchaser being good for us, I’m more concerned they’ll be understanding of our business model and not call the police on the ‘herds of young men gallivanting around the streets’ as our members have been called.

“Will do,” he promises.

They keep talking about the property, and slowly, my attention wanders to the ice full of skaters. I see Luna making her way around the oval, her arms outreached for balance, and I can’t help but smile at the unsure way she’s wobbling.

My smile melts a moment later, though, when I see Gracie skating smoothly and holding hands with a dark-haired, beautiful woman in painted-on jeans, an ivory V-neck T-shirt, and a stack of gold necklaces against the bare skin of her chest.

Skin I’ve touched. Skin I’ve tasted.

“What the fuck?” I murmur, the unusual curse word falling off my tongue easily and garnering Carter and Zack’s instant attention.

“What?” Carter asks, his eyes following my gaze and likely thinking he’ll see Gracie doing something outlandish he’ll have to apologize for.

“The woman... Sam... what’s she doing with Gracie? What’s she doing here?” I’m stammering, a blend of confusion, worry, fear, and shock swirling in my gut.

What’s going on? How is Sam with Gracie? Did she follow me, stalk me, or something even more sinister? I’ve received some awful hate mail but never been a target like this... where a woman shows up with my family after a hook-up. Or what if she was a set-up all along?

I’m up and dodging the crowd on my way to save Gracie in the blink of an eye. I step onto the ice in my shoes, fighting to stay steady and keeping my attention locked on my niece.

“Gracie!” I shout across the ice. She looks up, beaming with happiness and then laughing a little at me on the ice without skates. “Come here, now.” My voice is sharp, garnering the interest of other skaters.

I hold my hands out, encouraging her to my side, but see her squeeze Sam’s hand instead. For her part, Sam seems shocked to see me—her eyes wide, and her mouth open in an O—or at least she’s a good actress. She pulls Gracie tighter to her side, almost protectively. But what’s she protecting her from? Certainly not me.

She’s the threat.

CHAPTER8

SAMANTHA

I starein shock at the men standing at the edge of the ice. One is Carter, Luna’s husband. Another, Zack, Luna’s brother. And the third?

Chance. From last night.

He looks furious and terrified all at once, like he might shove me to the ice, grab Gracie, and make a misguided run for it across the slippery ice because he’s actuallyonthe ice without skates.

What is he doing here? And why is he with Carter and Zack? And most importantly, how the hell does he know Gracie’s name? Because she might not be my actual niece, but I’ll fight to the death before I let somebody kidnap her, even if she is a monster sometimes.

“What’s going on?” I ask sharply as I skate closer, keeping a tight hand on Gracie, whose confidence is better than her ability.

Chance is wearing dark blue jeans, a black button-down shirt opened at the neck, and dress boots. I’m guessing this is his version of casual because this outfit doesn’t include a tie. His hair is slicked back, his blue eyes are flashing, and his jaw is clenched tight.

“Come here,” he repeats, and my body automatically responds to the order.

“Notyou,” Chance says, his narrowed eyes not missing my reaction. “Gracie, come here.”

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