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Delilah leans closer and whispers, “His tastes run a little . . . different.”

I blink in disbelief. “Wait. He’s gay?”

Delilah shrugs. “Let’s just say I’ve seen him around. And it wasn’t with a woman. Or with one person at a time.”

Wow, Luna. He’s so far out of your league, it’s not even funny.

Suddenly, the man tears his gaze away from me and starts to talk to the slick-haired guy next to him, not sparing me another glance.

Inexplicably, it feels like a cold rebuff. How can he stare at me like a starving man, then dismiss me completely in the next moment? He has to be doing it on purpose.

“He’s not giving gay vibes, Dels.”

“Trust me. That’s how he stares. Creepy as fuck.”

I tilt my head to observe him. “Hmm. I wouldn’t call him creepy per se.”

“No? What would you call assessing merchandise, then?”

I whip my head to Delilah. “What are you talking about?”

Delilah leans in again. “He’s a trafficker. That guy he’s talking to? His name is Hector. They’ve been in the game for years.”

My stomach lurches with a wave of nausea, but it’s followed by something I don’t want to acknowledge. A spark of excitement—the kind that only comes when you’re playing with fire. It’s the same thrill I get from watching horror movies, playing dangerous games, and generally doing anything forbidden.

Before he was killed, Uncle Pascal used to dabble in the flesh business—a banned venture in the Chicago Outfit—but I never met a dealer up close. I always imagined traffickers would look slimy, like the earth scum they are. Not like . . . him.

Hell, this man wouldn’t have to kidnap me. I’d gladly follow him down a dark alley.

Before I can spiral any further, Eduardo returns with drinks. I smile and take the glass from him, but my mind is still on the man across the room. Rocky hasn’t looked back at me since, but hell if I’ll let him dismiss me so easily.

“Eduardo,” I ignore the drink and say with a sultry smile, “let’s dance.”

He beams, takes my hand, and leads me to the dance floor. As the music pulses through me, I turn my back to him, letting the rhythm take over. My hips dip and roll with deliberate precision, each bounce perfectly timed to the beat. Then, dropping low, I arch my back and let my body do the talking.

Eduardo’s gaze heats as his hands slide over my hips. is movements follow mine as if he can keep up.

But I’m not dancing for Eduardo.

I glance over my shoulder, easily catching Hector’s eye but not Rocky’s. It’s as if he’s trying not to look at me. But I know it’s only a matter of time. He’ll cave.

They always do.

5

Cade

I tear my gaze away from the complication eyeing me across the bar. My scowl needs a lot of work if Luna still can’t stop dragging her eyes all over me like I’m some tasty snack—despite her friend’s discreet jabs.

“Who’s the buyer?” I ask Hector.

“Some sheikh,” he replies with a dismissive wave. “You know how those desert kings are. No sense of restraint. Once they set their sights on something, they’ll pay anything.”

I nod, drain my glass, and slam it on the table hard enough to make Hector flinch. Pulling out my phone, I fire off a quick text to Scar to head to the docks. I watch as Scar stands then pulls Kat with him, their exit unnoticed.

“Your boy is meeting us at the docks, right?”

Hector nods. “Ten o’clock sharp. Provided he can tear himself away from the merch. Fuck, that woman can move.” He leers.