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He doesn’t hug her back. Something that makes me happier than it should.

“And who is this?” Yvonne asks him seductively, her eyebrow rising questioningly before releasing him from her grasp.

She stands before me, not as tall as Damon, but taller than me. I’m no model.

“Sienna, this is Yvonne. There. You’ve met.”

Yvonne smiles at me in a way that makes me squirm. Her eyes caress my face and then travel down my body before meeting my gaze once again.

“Mmmmm, she is yummy, Damon.” I blush and look at Damon for support.

Futile. But he pulls me closer to him and then walks around her,her laughter like a church bell as she follows.

“Calm down. I have the perfect dress for her. Something to compliment that fiery red hair.”

Just before we enter the boutique, the hairs on the back of my neck rise as if someone is watching me.

It’s not the same feeling I get when letters arrive from my mystery man. Or when I think he is watching me. This feeling is darker, and I turn my head, quickly checking if I can find the source. Nothing.

“What is it?” Damon’s voice is so stern that even Yvonne, who has been yapping on about the perfect dress, stops talking. She pivots on her heels, looking around curiously.

“It’s nothing. It just felt…never mind.” I shake my head, sure I am overreacting.

Damon's eyes rake the area behind me, his gaze lingering on the spot to my left before returning to mine.

A storm brews in their depths, but I don’t know the cause. And this time, I don’t want to.

Chapter 9

Shadow

My hand should be circling my rainbow’s neck, not this asshole pissing his pants.

While this one is a step up in skill level to what they sent last night, it is still like catching a mouse in a fishbowl.

Bob easily overpowered him in the alley behind Yvonne's and brought him to this warehouse I own close toSin. Where captive number one, Mancio, was held in another room until about an hour ago. His body would be dumped in gang territory where cops could do what they did best. Pin things to the wrong people.

At this rate, I would have a collection of incompetent thugs to take my anger out on.

After leaving Sienna in Yvonne's capable hands and with Bob back there to keep an eye on her, I left to come here. My anger at Mr. Making My Girl Feel Uncomfortable was starting to make Sienna suspicious.

Now here we are, and instead of looking into beautiful green eyes asI should be right now, I am looking into red, bulging ones as I cut off the blood supply to an organ he clearly doesn’t use while piss splashes onto my Tom Ford Customs.

He tries speaking, but all that comes out is a gargled, incomprehensible noise.

The knife in my other hand glints in the light while blood drips from the tip, falling into the puddle of yellow bodily fluids.

When he looks like he might pass out, I lower him to the ground, his feet finding purchase on the piss-filled floor while the chains around his wrists keep him in place.

I hold his hand against the wall, his words clearer as a raspy ‘please’ leaves his lips. Desperation swims in every tear running down his splotchy red cheeks.

“I don’t like repeating myself.”

My knife slices into the flesh of the third digit on his right hand, then I add more force and push down, cutting through the phalangeal joint until I hit the wall behind. The sound of metal meeting concrete is drowned out.

Pity, as it is my third-best sound. Recently moved from its top spot to be replaced with Sienna’s moans taking numero uno and my name from her lips, sitting a close second.

The scream echoes around the room as Ricardo’s middle finger plops into the foul-smelling urine on the floor, joining two others already there. If ever there was a motivation to drink more water, this was it.