Page 58 of Veiled Vengeance

“That makes you a dead man.” Asher’s voice is cold.

My pussy turns into fucking Niagara Falls.

Is that supposed to be sexy? Because, oh my hell, it is.

Rio digs into the man’s pocket, pulls out his wallet, and takes a picture of his ID. He hands the wallet back, and the man snatches it from Rio’s grasp. “Enjoy your hands while you still have them.”

The man scrambles on his ass away from us. “You don’t know who you’re messing with!”

Rio fakes contemplation and places a finger on his chin. “Hmm. Interesting. But we don’t give a fuck.” Then shrugs his shoulders.

“We’ll give you a head start. Use it wisely,” Asher adds.

The man finally gives in to his fight-or-flight response—he chooses flight.

I bite my lip when they all turn to me. Their anger turns to lust when they take in my flushed, needy complexion.

“Come on, Mama. Let’s go.” Rio takes my hand in his and leads us out of the club. Night has settled in, but it’s impossible to tell with all the lights of the city.

As we walk to the car, I tilt my head to the side as a question pops into my head. “What happened to the guy from Moonlit?”

Zane’s confused expression fails to convince me he doesn’t remember. Rio frowns and shrugs a shoulder.

“What guy?” Asher questions.

Rio gives Asher the information he wants. “There was another guy who put his hands on our girlfriend?—”

“Before I was your girlfriend,” I interject.

“Angel, you were always ours. From the moment I saw you, I knew it.”

“The rest was just formalities.” Rio waves his hand.

“Don’t fight it, Princess. You won’t win this argument.”

I sigh and roll my eyes at their nonsense.

You know it’s true.

Ah, fuck. Yeah, I know.

“What the hell is that?” Zane squints his eyes as we approach his car.

They all draw their weapons when I finally see the manilla envelope on Zane’s windshield. Asher reaches the envelope first and opens it while Zane and Rio scan up and down the street.

Asher pulls out multiple photos and a written note. “Fuck!” he shouts, making me jump.

Rio leans in, and all the blood drains from his face. Zane peeks at the images and swallows.

“What is it?” I finally question.

Asher silently hands me everything.

“Oh my God!” I gasp and cover my mouth. The pictures are of Carmen—she’s tied with duct tape to a chair. Her face is stained with tear streaks and her eyes are staring right at me, begging for help. I flip through the photos until I get to the note.

The whore for my Flower. Tomorrow at Euphoria 10 p.m.. Come alone.

Anthony is never going to stop. I’ve always known that. I thought I could run and hide, hoping the problem would go away, but he’s not going to stop.