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MAVEN
Spotting Archer’s men was too easy. They sat at a table near the stage, drinking and catcalling the dancers. Their tattoos marked them as Archer Syndicate jackasses, ensuring I made no mistake. Thankfully Donovan Archer himself wasn’t the type to be seen in a place like this. Last I’d heard he was ordering call girls to help him fulfill some twisted fantasies.
Blending in wasn’t difficult. Scantily clad waitresses carried trays filled with drinks while dancers worked the room, seeking to score some extra cash with a lap dance. I moved among them, slowly making my way to the table filled with syndicate members. A few men tried to stop me along the way. I turned on the charm, promising to return after a trip to the restroom. It’s not like they could argue a woman’s need to pee.
“Hurry back, sweetheart. I’ll be waiting.” A drunken frat guy slapped my ass as I walked away, triggering my instinct to fight.
Clenching my hands into tight fists, I fought the urge to pull a knife and jam the blade into his windpipe. At the very least, he deserved to lose a finger or two. Lucky for him, he wasn’t my target tonight.
As I neared the table of Archer men, I spotted Ace across the room. He sat at a table with two men I didn’t recognize. Probably dudes that worked for him and Wolfe. In a black suit with a fedora angled down to hide his features, he laughed at something one of the others said. Feeling my gaze, he glanced in my direction and nodded.
Not a single guy at the Archer table looked his way. This club wasn’t owned by any particular syndicate or MC, which made it neutral ground to some extent. Not tonight though. Tonight, a move would be made here. A move toward taking back my city.
I gave my cleavage a minor adjustment, making sure my tits were the first thing a man would look at when he saw me. Anything to take the attention off my face. Sucking in a deep breath, I sauntered right up to the table filled with Archer’s people. The pretty brunette dancing on the stage next to the table consumed most of their attention.
“Hey, boys. Can I interest any of you in a private dance?” I batted my fake lashes and affected a demure smile. There were so many people flowing in and out of the curtained doorway leading to the back that nobody should look twice if I brought a man to a private room.
A few of the seven men gathered took the time to give me an appraising onceover. One man nudged another and said, “If you don’t hit that, I will.”
Hit that? What did this asshole think I was offering?
A guy with the Archer tattoo on the back of his hand looked me over and raised a brow. “Yeah, I’d love a private dance. Lead the way, gorgeous.”
Just like that, I had my target. Now to get him alone. Pouring myself into my role, I slipped a hand in his as we strolled toward the back.
A dancer and her customer spilled through the curtained doorway as we entered. She gave me a curious glance but said nothing, continuing to flirt with the man at her side.
Yikes. I wasn’t sure what the turnover was like in a place like this. Hopefully high enough that the dancers wouldn’t question my presence back here. Beyond the curtain was a small hallway of private rooms. Music and muffled voices spilled from the rooms.
A beefy security guard stood at the end of the hall, ready if any of the ladies needed assistance. His gaze flicked over me, and he pointed to an empty room. I released the breath I’d been holding and ducked inside with my target. The guard could be a problem if I ran into trouble. Any sound of a scuffle would bring him running.
The private room was small, maybe eight feet in both length and width. A chair sat in the middle of the dimly lit room. There was a place to plug in a phone to play music. I didn’t plan to actually dance for him, but he didn’t need to know that.
“What’s your name, sugar?” I purred, steering him over to the chair. Sitting him down, I ran a hand over his shaggy brown hair. Before he could think of touching me, I pulled my phone from my boot and opened the music app.
“Mark,” he said, one knee bouncing as he waited for me to get started. “What should I call you?”
Your worst fucking nightmare.Instead of saying that, I smiled sweetly. “You can call me Sapphire.”
Wolfe’s silly name spilled out of my mouth, forcing me to stifle a laugh. I plugged my phone into the speaker hookup and played Ariana Grande’s “Dangerous Woman”. Turning it up as loud as it would go, I sauntered toward him, anticipation making my blood run hot.
“You’ve got a real sweet ass, Sapphire. I can’t wait to feel it grinding against my dick. Do you do more than dance?” Mark watched me with a lusty intrigue that made me want to knock his head off his shoulders. He worked for the man who’d had me tortured. He was the enemy.
I came to stand in front of him, running both hands down his chest as I moved my hips to the music. Trailing a hand up his arm to his shoulder, I slowly walked around behind him. I had only seconds to make my move.
Choking him out would only buy me a few precious seconds. Since my goal was to get my hands on the burner phone I knew he carried, I may not need more than that. However, the thought of him quickly regaining consciousness before I’d fled left me uneasy. Too messy that way.
Making a fist, I hauled off and punched him as hard as I could in the side of the jaw. A guaranteed way to knock someone out with enough force. My other hand went to the knife on my thigh, ready to grab it if he didn’t go down. Luck smiled on me, taking him down like a bag of rocks. He slid off the chair and hit the floor, a noise consumed by the music.
I moved fast, searching his pockets. I sifted through car keys, a few condoms, and a smartphone before finding the small flip phone in a back pocket. The smartphone wouldn’t have anything of use on it. Leaving it behind, I tucked the burner phone into the side of my boot and stood up.
As I turned to grab my own phone, Mark groaned and rolled over. His muddled brain put it together, and he shoved forward in an awkward crawl, grabbing my heel. He jerked hard, and I went down on the dirty red carpet. I didn’t want to let myself think about the nasty things I could be touching. My phone hit the floor as I fell, skipping toward the door. So much for sending an S.O.S text to the guys.
Mark held tight to my heel, giving me the opportunity to kick him in the face with my other boot. Blood gushed from his nose, and he swore. “Who the fuck are you? Who do you work for?”
Rather than answer, I shoved to my feet and ran for the door, scooping up my phone on the way. Mark tackled me from behind, pinning me to the door. I squirmed in his grasp, turning to face him. My knee caught him in the balls, crushing the breath from his lungs. Then I grabbed him by the hair and pulled his head down as I drove my knee into his face.
“I don’t work for anyone,” I hissed, shoving him down in a bleeding heap on the floor. “Your boss knows who I am. Tell Archer that this is just the beginning.”
