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I look at herexactlylike that. “Like what?”

“Like I’m a fragile flower who can’t handle a strip club.” She smooths her skirt out over her knees, but her belly is so big now that the hem keeps riding up, revealing the creamy skin of her thighs. “I started hanging out with the cutsluts when I was in elementary school. There’s little I haven’t seen or heard.” She gives me a pointed look. “And it’s not like you guys handled me with kid gloves for the first half of our relationship.”

My lips tip up. “You’re kind of a badass, aren’t you?”

She opens the door. “You just figured that out?”

Leaning over the center console, I grab her arm and pull her back into the car. The kiss is hard and forceful, opening her mouth with a tug on her lower lip. She tastes so fucking good. There’s this thumping in my heart, a beat different than I’ve ever felt before. Not for my brothers. Not for anyone.

She’s appropriately breathless when I pull back, holding her face in my hands. “Look at me, Rosi.” When her dazed eyes blink open, they’re sparkling with the reflection of the dash lights, hypnotizing me. “I need you to follow my lead,” I whisper. For a moment, my whole world feels contained to the sheen of her lips when her tongue sweeps out to wet them. “We can’t let emotion lead with the Baron King. Where he is, the shadows aren’t far behind.”

She gives a slow nod. “I understand. But you, too, right?” At my raised brow, she points out, “You’re the one who was talking about killing them all.”

“Rosi, if you know anything about me, it’s that I have the patience of a saint. Sure, I’m decisive. When I make a decision that’s that. Like how I knew the first time I saw your picture that you belonged to me.” I push a soft tendril of hair behind herear. “We’re here to give him proof of life. And then, to get the Williams.”

When we enter the bar moments later, natural light and sounds vanish, consumed by the dark moodiness of the club. Despite Father’s lack of presence, the place is packed, a testament to a well-run business. In the back of the room, I see a group huddled around a gaming table. That’s where I find the Baron King, gold mask firmly in place, tucked in the back corner, holding cards. I recognize the others as Mayor Kenneth Strong, Louis Mercer, and Judge Marjorie Klein. Lex wasn’t kidding when he said that Father has dirt on every judge—even the women.

There’s a fifth person at the table, a young woman with dark eyes and blood-red lips. She’s perched on Maddox’s lap, head resting on his shoulder.

The Baroness.

I nod at Monroe, the barkeep, as we pass, going straight to the darkened booth in the back. Father’s table. It’s empty unless he’s here—or well, unlesswe’rehere. It’s a place to do business off the books, much like the Barons’ Crypt or the Lords’ Hideaway. It’s the equivalent of making a deal on a napkin. Maybe it won’t hold up in a court of law, but it sure as hell will out on the streets.

I help Verity ease around the curve of the booth, the pink light overhead giving her skin a warm glow. Before we even take our seats, a server approaches, likely noting the importance of the table. Her dress is beyond skimpy, the top a tight corset to show off her tits and the skirt flaring out in a ruffle. Unsurprisingly, Father has a thing for a sexy bar wench.

“Pace Ashby.” Her eyes are steely as she juts out her hip, a tray tucked beneath her arm. “It’s been a while.”

“Autumn.” I throw my arm over Verity’s shoulders and glance down at her belly. “I’m sure you heard we’ve been a little busy over at the palace.”

“I heard. Congratulations.” She makes no attempt to hide the bitterness in her tone. “Although that’s not the only gossip going around.”

“Yeah?” I jerk my chin. “What else have you heard?”

Autumnisbitter, but she’s East End, through and through. She’d never deny a Prince what he seeks. Eyes rolling, her shoulders sink. “The King hasn’t been in for weeks. No poker. No meetings.” She taps her fingers against the silver tray. “He hasn’t even been by to see his favorite girls.”

Verity looks up at me, mouth gaping. “Rufus hooks up with these women?”

I stroke her cheek, thinking it’s kind of sweet how innocent she can be sometimes. “If that’s what you want to call it.”

“His personal little harem,” Autumn says, but also pulls a face. “Not me. I don’t meet his standards.”

“Failed Princess,” I not-so-quietly whisper in Verity’s ear. Reaching over to stroke the swell of her belly, I tell Autumn, “No worries, the King will be back soon.”

“Great.” She looks anything but thrilled.

“In the meantime, grab me a beer? Rosi will have something non-alcoholic. Something…sweet.”

Autumn’s mouth forms a tight purse. “Of course.”

“And send a round of whatever they’re drinking to the front table. Judge Klein is looking a little thirsty.” Even though Her Honor is more focused on the dancers on the stage than the card game. I lean back, placing my hand on Verity’s thigh under the table, and notice her green eyes following Autumn’s backside as she walks off. “You know her?” I wonder.

But Verity shakes her head. “No. I mean, I saw her around when she was Princess, at the Furies and stuff. It’s just…” She trails off, looking away. “Never mind. It’s nothing.”

I tilt her chin to face me. “It’s something. Tell me.”

She turns, glancing over at Autumn by the bar where she’s placing our order with Monroe. “Back then, I didn’t know what she’d been through. The throning and all of that.” She frowns. “Were you there when it happened?”

“Nah,” I assure. “I was a little busy serving my sentence in the Pen last year.”