The asshole growling under my feet thought he could profess his undying love for me and then go fuck some blonde whore in the bathroom. Mistake. Big mistake.

When he told me he was going to get drinks then headed in the opposite way of the bar, every flag in my head stood to alert. Val had taught me how to observe one’s surroundings, promising me it would come in handy one day, and that day was definitely one of them.

Throughout Val’s teachings, my eyes became sharper in viewing my surroundings and noticing key things that were out of place: a car parked somewhere it shouldn’t be or a person walking a bit too closely. I’d see it, and it would keep me on my toes.

Realizing Antonio turned down the hallway in his quest for drinks, I’d motioned for my full-time guard, Scraper—yes, that was his name—to follow him. He took off, only to report back minutes later that Antonio had a piece of ass in the women’s bathroom.

The pained expression on Scraper’s face sent me into action. I knew it was pained because of the betrayal to me, and I would be putting Antonio’s ass on a stick.

I rushed through the crowd with Scraper on my heels, trying to get through the crush of people. I knew Scraper would stay out of the confrontation until or if he needed to intervene. He had been my guard for the past six years, and while at first we couldn’t stand the sight of each other, he’d grown on me over the years. After growing up together, I even liked him, and he knew when to step back and let me take the lead so I could prove myself capable to my family, which was a must.

I’d caught a glimpse through the crack in the door of that piece of shit, confirming he was in fact balls deep in pussy that wasn’t mine, and then I waited. I was exceptionally patient, one of my many redeeming qualities. As I stood back in the shadows of the darkened, narrow hallway that led to the bathroom, I tried reining in my anger. It would get me nowhere and cause me to make stupid mistakes. Having a clear head was the only way to go. Hurt had already gone out the damn window. There was no need for that or any other emotion.

Scraper had stayed on the other side as my back-up. He knew the fucker had to pay, exactly as I did. It would actually just be the start of his repercussions. Once my brothers, cousins, and—God help him—father and uncle heard, he would get a hell of a lot worse than what I was about to dish out. It was probably demented, but I was actually happy about that.

After the blonde whore left, swaying her fake ass down the hallway, Antonio came strutting out like the cat who got his mouse. There had been a wide smile across his face and even a bead of sweat on his brow. Before he could see me, I’d lifted my knee with every ounce of power I could muster in my five-foot-ten body and kneed him in his balls. He hunched over, and I helped him to the floor by kicking his legs out from under him. He plummeted to the ground hard, his shoulder taking the weight of the fall. Stupid fuck.

“Just handling some trash. Caught him fucking some blonde in the bathroom,” I said to Kiera, whose beautiful face turned glacial in seconds. The smooth skin around her eyes narrowed with lines as she released a heavy breath.

Kiera lifted the heel of her beautiful, hot pink pumps and smashed them into Antonio’s nose, causing blood to splatter at my feet and across the floor. I had been going for no blood, but shit happened.

“Dammit, I just got these boots, too.” I pretended to whine, stomping my foot for added emphasis. In actuality, I couldn’t give a shit. I would go buy new ones tomorrow.

Never in my life had I wanted for anything, but don’t think for a moment that I hadn’t worked for every penny of it. In my family, you learned very early on everything you got, you worked hard for. Your blood, sweat, and tears went into every dollar you spent; hence, why Kiera and I wanted a fun night out, hoping to get a reprieve from life. Life had other ideas, though.

“We’ll shop tomorrow,” Kiera spat down on Antonio as he started shrieking nasty names at us. Some in Italian, some in English. I ignored him as I hacked up a wad and spit it down on his worthless body.

Spitting on someone in my family was the formal yet disgusting sign of a person being dead to you. If someone was trash and unworthy of you, you spit. It was pretty damn gross, but people understood it and normally asked no questions once it was done. If they did, they were more than likely going to get the shit beat out of them again. In Antonio’s case, I hoped he would, just for fun.

“All right, ladies. It’s done.” Scraper slid up to us and rested his hands on our shoulders, giving a slight, comforting squeeze.

I wasn’t quite ready to give it up. The tension in my body was still wound tight and needed release, but I looked over to Kiera who nodded in agreement, deflating my plans.

Kiera was always my voice of reason. It was why we worked so well together. We complimented each other to a T.

“The boys will be here soon to clean up. Let’s go get you ladies a drink,” Scraper said with another squeeze as we stepped farther back, and I tried to pull out of my tension.

Antonio tried hard to stand, his feet and knees wobbling underneath him as he groaned in pain with each movement. He was able to partially get up, but he was bent at the waist and kept shifting from one foot to the other, like either one he chose hurt too much to put his full weight on.

“I’ll fucking kill you for this, bitch!” Antonio snapped at me. He didn’t seem to understand the concept of ‘you just got your ass handed to you, so shut the fuck up.’

Scraper pulled both Kiera and I behind him then landed a hard punch to Antonio’s jaw. The loud crack echoed through the hall, even over all the boisterous music playing. Antonio’s eyes rolled into the back of his head as he fell onto the floor, his head landing with an audible thud on the tile. His body was unmoving from what I hoped was just being passed out. I didn’t need to explain this man’s death to my father or uncle.

“Come. Now,” Scraper commanded, looking down at the piece of shit. “Or else a bullet goes through the fucker’s head.”

I rolled my eyes. While I knew he would totally do it, I also knew he would pick a more discreet location than right by the bathroom in a bar. Too many witnesses. Even though no one was around us at the moment, a gunshot would surely bring everyone running.

“Let me wash up.” I didn’t wait for a response from either of them, entering the bathroom to clean off Antonio once and for all. I hated having Antonio’s blood on me in any way, even on my shoes.

Months of my life were wasted on that piece of shit, time I would never get back. I sighed, wishing things had been different. I thought he might have actually been the one. Who was I shitting? The one, my ass. He didn’t exist for me.

After I was done, I stepped out of the bathroom to a waiting Kiera and Scraper.

“Come on, girl. I’m thirsty.” I needed to get something inside of me to calm the hyped up feeling I had coursing through my veins. Love it or hate it, the crash from adrenaline usually sucked, and I wanted to be drunk when it happened. Forgetting seeing Antonio and that whore fucking was an added bonus.

“I bet you are,” Kiera giggled, grabbing my arm and pulling me back up to the VIP section.

Scraper led the way up the side stairs, but I could feel Dune and Case behind us. They were Kiera’s guards. She had two because of the whole being the daughter of the great Vino Lambardoni thing. We each had two other guards who we called Ghost One and Ghost Two. We had met them there, but they hid in the shadows, only coming out when necessary, which was seldom. They were there yet not there. It was eerie in a way, but we got used to it like everything else.

I couldn’t remember a time in my life when she and I hadn’t had guards of some sort tailing our every movement. Most would say it wasn’t normal, but what the hell was normal, anyway? Our fathers did it for our safety, and we accepted that. Although I’m not saying back in the day we hadn’t tried to ditch them and escape the confines of our fathers.