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Nicole seems to get the message loud and clear. Her breath is unsteady, but her voice is full of confidence. “I can handle more.”

That’s all I need to hear.

I tighten my grip, forcing my cock deeper until she chokes. Her throat constricts around me, a muffled sound vibrating against my skin, but she doesn’t pull away. Good girl.

Her lips stay wrapped tight, her tongue working even as her eyes flick up, watching me. My free hand moves to her chest, fingers grazing over soft skin before I pinchher nipple hard, rolling it between my fingers. Her body jerks, another small whimper slipping past her throat, muffled around my cock.

“Yeah,” I murmur, smirking as I push deeper. “You can take more.”

I grip her head tightly, thrusting into her mouth like she’s just a toy for my pleasure. I don’t give a damn that I’m choking her with my cock or that she can’t breathe. She’s my fucking plaything.

Each rough push drives me closer to the edge, the pressure building fast; my balls tighten, and I feel my release coming. I yank her off, leaving her breathless. “Open up,” I command, and she kneels there, mouth wide, tongue out, ready for me.

Leaning forward, I stroke myself a few times before my come spills over her mouth, face, and chest, coating her in my seed.

“Now clean me up,” I say, leaning back in my seat, crossing my arms behind my head, a satisfied grin creeping onto my lips.

Nicole jumps to her feet, grabbing a towel from the small cart. She hesitates for a moment, those doe-like eyes wide, lipstick smudged. I stretch out, extending my legs, and nod. “You have permission.”

She immediately starts wiping my cock clean, and very thoroughly. Once I’m tucked back into my pants, she grabs her top and bra from the floor and slips into the bathroom.

I take a slow sip of my drink, feeling the warmth of the whiskey spread through me. My hand drifts to my forehead, and I cover my eyes with my arm, letting the cool leather of the seat press against my skin. That blowjob wasn’t exactly mind-blowing, but Nicole did what I needed. I recline the seat back, pushing her out of my mind and focusing on what’s waiting for me in Chicago.

A rough shake jerks me out of my sleep, the back of my shirt is drenched in sweat, and Bria’s face is the first thing on my mind. I rub my eyes, trying to snap out of it, and Kota is standing over me, shoving a phone in my face. He’s probably the only one who has the balls to wake me up like this.

I sit up, shaking off the last bits of sleep, but the anger’s already bubbling up. The sweat on my skin isn’t helping; the guilt is seeping out of me. I glance at the phone, and the screen flashes with a message. Chris, my stubborn prisoner, is still holding out. The damn guy’sgot more grit than I gave him credit for, and it’s pissing me off that I’m not there to watch him suffer.

Kota is still standing there, his expression as calm as ever. “You good, Boss?” he asks.

“Just a dream,” I grunt, not trusting myself to say more.

Dream? Ha! More like a goddamn nightmare. The accident. That memory. The anger that never fades, never fucking lets up. Bria’s death. My loss.

It’s a wound that refuses to heal, no matter how much time passes. Some scars fade. This one never will.

I clench the phone tighter, the rage bubbling up inside me. “What’s the latest?” I finally ask, trying to shift my focus to anything other than the nightmare that haunts me.

“They’re still working on Chris. Guy’s tough, but he’ll crack. Just a matter of time.”

“Time,” I mutter, the word tasting bitter in my mouth. Every second that bastard holds out gets under my skin more.

The sound of Nicole unlocking the door snaps me back. We’ve landed. I toss the blanket aside and stand up. “Alright, let’s get this show on the road,” I say, pushing past Kota. “I’m in the mood to make someone’s day worse.”

The second my foot hits the tarmac, a blacked-out Navigator pulls up in front of me, another one stopping right behind it. The window rolls down, and I’m greeted by a familiar fucker.

“Figured you could use a ride,” Antonio says, leaning out the window.

I nod, and Kota and I slide into his car while Nathan and Alonzo hop into the SUV trailing us.

“So, how long has this temp been working at Elli Enterprise?” I ask, leaning back into the seat, trying to keep my tone calm.

“A few weeks,” Antonio replies steadily. “Cindy’s been out sick, and Olivia picked up the slack fast. Too fast. Sebastiano’s gut didn’t like it. Something was off, so he ran her prints.”

“And?” I press.

Antonio’s eyes narrow. “They didn’t match the check we did on her. Now he’s got his men tailing her and her computers under surveillance. That’s when he caught her digging into the Commission’s records, specifically looking up everything she can on you.”

“Me?” I snap, resting my elbows on my knees. “Why the hell is she looking into me?”