Page 171 of I'm sorry, Princess

But the thought of Serena clawed its way back into me, sharper than any bullet.

Would she ever forgive me? Would she still look at me with those soft, trusting eyes once she knew I had dragged her father into my hellhole, ready to bleed him for answers?

Probably not.

But it didn’t matter anymore.

Because I’d already made my choice.

The bass was pounding so hard it rattled in my ribs, a steady, obscene thud-thud-thud that made the floorboards quiver under my boots. Neon light bled across the smoke, bodies grinding, laughter spilling over the music. A Tuesday at four in the afternoon, and the place was already full of old, sweating men stuffing bills into thongs like their lives depended on it. Pathetic.

I was halfway to the bar when my entire body froze.

Blonde highlights. Bronze skin. Toned legs wrapped in heels that looked like they’d been made for sin. A dress so short it was barely fabric, clinging to her hips. Her cheeks flushed pink, her hair swinging loose and wild.

Serena.

On the fucking table.

Dancing.

With Sienna.

And Lev.

For a second, I thought the music cut out, because all I could hear was the roar of my blood in my ears. Then “Go Down Deh” by Spice, Sean Paul & Shaggy blasted over the speakers, filthy and raw, and as soon as the word down dropped, my girl bent over and started twerking.

My girl.

My princess.

My jaw clenched so hard it hurt.

“What the fuck is he doing?” Andres hissed, suddenly at my side. His voice was tight, low, like he was two seconds from ripping Lev off that table himself.

Lev stood in the middle, shirtless, still wearing his balaclava like this was some kind of twisted game. His tattoos flexed with every movement, his massive frame towering between the two girls. He was grinning like the fucking lunatic he is, his hands locked on their waists as they moved against him.

And Serena, my Serena, was letting herself get pulled close.

She saw me. Of course she did. Her eyes locked on mine across the crowd, and instead of stopping, instead of stepping away from that brute, she slowed her movements, hips rolling to the rhythm, her body swaying like temptation itself. My cock throbbed painfully at the sight, rage and desire colliding so violently I could barely breathe.

“Down,” I growled across the noise, my voice low but sharp enough to cut through the music.

She just smirked. Winked. And then, like she wanted to watch me burn, she turned her back to me and bent deeper, grinding down on the beat.

“Fuck,” I hissed under my breath.

The men around the table were devouring her with their eyes, their mouths open, bills trembling in their hands. I felt my blood ignite. One by one, I glared at them, and one by one their gazes snapped away, heads ducking like prey spotting the wolf in the dark.

Andres stood like a statue beside me, face carved from stone, but I caught the vein in his neck pulsing, saw the storm brewing behind his blank stare as he watched Sienna. She had her hands tangled in Lev’s balaclava now, laughing, yanking it down over her own head as she ground against him. It looked less like dancing and more like a fucking porn show.

My hands curled into fists at my sides. I wanted to snap Lev’s neck where he stood, watch that wicked grin vanish forever. I knew Serena was flexible, but seeing her body bend, move, arch in ways I’d never demanded of her, it made me burn. Mad that she was doing this here, madder still that I hadn’t asked her for more dances like that when she was mine.

Lev finally tears himself away from the stage, swaggering toward us like he hadn’t just been grinding between my woman and her best friend. The girls are still on the table, hips swaying, but now my men form a wall around them, guns hidden beneath tailored suits, making damn sure no other bastard gets within reach.

“You’re early!” Lev calls out, grin feral under the club’s flashing lights.

I step in close, my voice a growl meant for him alone. “We’re not fucking early, Lev. It’s ten. We’re late.”