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With long strides, I reach Diablo’s side. He’s so fixated on Isabella that he barely acknowledges my presence. Isabella might’ve won over the crowd, but she hasn’t fooled us.

As the DJ hands Isabella a large manila envelope filled with hundred dollar bills, she flashes a thousand watt smile. It glints with false promise, just one more trick in her attempt to lure us into whatever game she’s playing.

The moment she moves to exit the stage, I nod at Diablo. His massive frame rises beside me like a shadow taking form. We move together, a pair of predators ready to strike.

As Isabella walks down the steps, her piercing blue eyes lock with mine. A storm rises in their depths, wild and untamed. She’s here with ulterior motives, I’m sure of it, and yet I’m drawn to the danger she represents, to the secrets she guards behind her victorious smile.

“Isabella Vasquez,” I say, my voice steady.

She blanches, but her face stays frozen in silent triumph.

“Enjoying your win?” My voice is light, almost casual, but there’s nothing trivial about the undercurrent swirling between us. She knows it. Her eyes narrow just so, reading the subtext, the real conversation happening beneath the surface.

“Victory always has its charms,” she responds, her tone lilting with triumph and something else—a hint of steel.

Her answer is strategic, a sidestep around my probing, but I’m patient. This encounter isn’t just about tonight. It’s about how the future will unfold when the music fades and the cheering stops. I set aside the temptation to launch into a dozen questions and simply reply, “Indeed it does.”

The applause dies down, and the DJ announces that the girls who are chosen tonight will get text messages later to let them know if they got the job or not. I don’t care about any of them, just her. She’s the only woman in the room who matters.

“If you’ll excuse me,” she says, trying to sidestep me.

Diablo blocks her exit attempt.

“Before you go, wouldn’t you like to know if you got the job?” I ask.

“You’re not going to send me a text like the rest of them?” Isabella’s smile doesn’t falter, but her eyes flick from me to Diablo and back. She must realize she’s not going anywhere until I say she is.

“Is that what you want?”

“Not really. I’d like to know. Although I did win, so I just assumed I got the job.” She tips her chin up in defiance. The small gesture sends a stab of desire straight to my groin. There’s nothing hotter than a sassy woman. She’s all that and more. Any idiot could see that.

“Tomorrow night. Six p.m. Don’t be late,” I command, knowing that what she does next will reveal more than any interrogation ever could.

“I’m never late.” A smirk plays across her face as she walks around Diablo and heads toward the exit.

“And maybe don’t mention this to your brother… unless that was your plan all along,” I add.

She stumbles mid-stride, but quickly recovers, continuing her path toward the door. But she can’t hide the tremble in her walk. If her brother sent her, then she’ll have to tell him that we already know. We’ll see what that does to whatever scheme they were trying to orchestrate.

“Want me to get her back?” Diablo asks.

“Nah. I want to see what she does tomorrow. If she shows up or not.”

“You think she’s really going to come back?”

“Five grand isn’t enough to change anything for the cartel. It doesn’t make any sense. Why would her brother want her to work for us? It’s not like we run any of our other businesses out of the club. She won’t learn anything working here.”

“They don’t know that. They might think it’s a front for running drugs.”

“Like we’d be that stupid.”

“Of course not, but they might assume we’re idiots just because we ride bikes.”

“True.” I rub my chin. “Do we know if she’s working for the cartel? Last I heard she wasn’t caught up in the family business.”

“Don’t know. Fang might be able to figure it out. Want me to follow her?”

“Not yet. Not tonight. I don’t want them running scared until we figure out what they’re up to. But let’s see if Vapor wants to call Church. Everyone should know about this. It’s the first time Vasquez has tried to send someone in his immediate family to infiltrate the club. Something stinks.”