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He kissed my neck, and I leaned into him. “It’s okay. They helped me get away from him.”

“Try to forget about it. We’re here to have fun.”

I pulled back and looked up at him. “Does that involve getting out of the heat?”

His eyes sparkled. “If that’s what you want.”

He took my hand and led us past the bar to a blissfully air-conditioned room full of booths with two pool tables taking up the rest of the space.

“I want to play!” Ama hurried over to the far one, claiming it for us as if anyone would challenge her. “Pedro, you and me versus them.”

Alessio squeezed my hand. “Is that okay?”

“As long as more margaritas are in my future, I don’t care.”

He kissed my temple and waved a waiter over. “Can we get four strawberry margaritas, please?”

The man dipped his head and left the room.

He was polite, even to the staff.

Fuck, I wasn’t supposed to be finding more things to endear me to him.

It didn’t ease the fact that he just ordered the death of yet another man.

At least, not entirely.

“Rack ‘em!” Ama cheered while Pedro set up the table, and she picked a stick and broke. “Solids!”

I wasn’t a great player, but knew the basics well enough to hold my own. Not that it mattered. Pedro and I caught each other’s eye and laughed as the siblings grew heated.

I stood back, sipping on my drink, while they bickered.

People filtered in and out of the room. Eventually, Terrance entered and gave Alessio a subtle nod that went unanswered.

We won the first game, and Ama immediately demanded we play best two out of three. After my first turn, I excused myself to find the restroom with a sweet kiss on Alessio’s cheek.

What I really wanted was intel.

I slowly meandered through the crowd, keeping my head down while listening to the conversations. They blurred together, nothing standing out until I was nearly to the pool when I heard his name.

“Andre was one of the top producers. What the hell was he thinking?” It was a shiftless man with sunglasses on. I didn’t recognize him, but he was probably with those playing volleyball.

I stayed just inside the covered patio, against the wall with my phone in my hands, so anyone who noticed me would hopefully overlook me.

“He touched what wasn’t his,” a deep voice replied. “He should have known better, especially here.”

“How was he supposed to know she was the boss’?” the first man demanded.

“He didn’t need to. She wasn’t his. I saw them walk away. She didn’t initiate contact or even seem that interested in him. No signals for him to touch her,” another voice joined in.

At least he’d have my back if questions or doubts arose.

“Couldn’t he just have reprimanded him or something?” the first grumbled.

“He has been trigger-happy lately,” one of the men lowered his voice. “You guys heard about Vic, right? He poked his nose where it didn’t belong, and he was gone within minutes.”

“It's that woman. She’s got him pussy whipped.”