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“Because you’ve hurt her. And scared her. And I can’t imagine how long it’s going to take her to recover, so I’m going to make sure that I haunt the rest of your life. If I’m not there watching you, my people will be. Maybe they’ll hurt you. Maybe you’ll find a razor blade in your burger, or the brakes cut on your car. Maybe you’ll find an allergen in your coffee or someone will break into your home. You won’t know. And you won’t ever be calm again, you hear me?”

Tightening the chain, I lean down and press my lips lightly to the shell of his ear. Seth makes a terrible, pained sound and tries to toss his head back and forth.

“Now say thank you.”

“—hrk!”

“Saythank you.”

“Th—hr—thank…y-you!” The words scrape from his swollen throat like air escaping an overfilled tire, and his eyes roll back when I finally step back and release the chain. It slides like water from his throat, and Seth collapses forward coughing and retching on the ground.

“You’ll never know peace again,” I mutter, staring down at him in disgust. “Welcome to hell.”

I’d much prefer killing him, but the last thing I want to do is make Catherine feel like I’m not listening to her, especially when she’s just been through something so traumatic. So I will wait until she is better, until Seth is nothing more than a distant thought in her mind as she embraces her new life, and then I will kill him.

Leaving the gym, I head down the street and send a quick message to one of my team leads. Seth is to be at the top of their list, and I want him messed with until he breaks down and comes begging for me to kill him. The confirmation comes through thirty seconds later. Excellent.

It’s the least he fucking deserves.

I can still smell the stink of his sweat and disgusting cologne, so rather than walking all the way back to my car and waiting guard, I head for the nearest convenience store. With each step, my anger slowly begins to fade. Despite knowing nothing about Seth, I can’t help but feel like I let Catherine down. With everything going on, I should be able to look out for my best friend and keep her safe. What use is all this power and all these people if the ones I care about slip through the net because of some despicable asshole?

The convenience store clerk jumps when I slam down my chosen drink on the counter, so I flash her an apologetic smile. It’s not her fault I’m so pissed off at the world. First my father and his stupid comments, Seth and his violence, Santino and his fucking war using me as a pawn all those years ago.

I’m tired of men.

I pay for my drink and snack with a handful of crumpled dollars, but as I’m heading outside, the clerk stops me just at the door.

“Miss! You paid too much!”

“Keep it,” I say, heading outside. “Buy yourself something nice.”

“But miss?—”

Turning away from her as she steps out from behind the counter, movement across the street catches my attention and my heart lifts unexpectedly.

Is that Roman? He’s coming out of the deli across the street, tossing some keys back and forth in his hand. We lock eyes for a split second, then his eyes widen in alarm as the blare of a car horn tears through the air.

There’s no time for me to react. The second I see the car screaming toward me with a screech of brakes is the same second it slams into me and knocks me clean off my feet.

11

ROMAN

“Jasmine!”

The blue car hits Jasmine with a solid thump and sends her stumbling back into the wall. The vehicle wasn’t moving that fast, having just come around the corner so the impact didn’t look that serious, but those facts barely register as a red fog descends.

Sprinting across the street, Jasmine is my target until the car door opens and a man in gym gear stumbles out brandishing a tire iron.

“You fucking bitch!” he screams, taking a few steps to where Jasmine is slowly picking herself up from the ground. He doesn’t get close to her.

As soon as I’m near him, my fist collides with his face and sends him crashing against his own vehicle. Before he can steady himself, I have him by the collar and I drag him away from Jasmine, then throw him so hard against his car that the side door window cracks and shatters.

“Are you fucking insane?!” I roar. “Running people over in the street? You fucking asshole!” Another punch sends his head snapping back and he slumps a few inches toward the ground,but I keep holding his collar and dragging him right back up for another punch. And then another. His face quickly becomes bloodied, and all his attempts to speak are ruined by my next punch that sends his lower jaw crashing into his top one.

“Stop!” someone screams from inside the convenience store. “I’m calling the cops! I’m calling!”

Disgust curls through me as the strange man drops down into a puddle at my feet the moment I release him. The sound of running footsteps catches up to me as several of my men finally drag their lazy asses from their nearby cars.