“Is there a problem here?” A multi-color-haired woman appears at my side, concern flashing in eyes the color of violets.
“Yes, Melena. I need this man escorted out. He’s rude and belligerent.”
“I haven’t been yet, but I can be,” I warn.
“Actually,” Poppy speaks up, “I was just requesting a different stylist, if that’s all right.” I scoff, earning a lifted brow, silently telling me to shut up. “I don’t think we’re a good fit for each other.”
“Ah. I understand. We can absolutely do that.” Of course, they can. For what I’m paying, they could shut down the entire salon just for Poppy. “In the meantime, I’ll send the nail tech to get started.”
“Perfect.” Poppy gives her a warm, grateful smile.
The tech gets called over, and the other women walk away, one with apologies and the other like a scolded child. I watch her as she disappears through a door to my left.
“I’ll be right back,” I tell Poppy. She gives me another bright smile and nods.
I walk through the doors markedStaff Only.A few people call out to me as I make my way through the area, glancing inside different open doors as I pass until I spot her in what must be a break room.
“Out,” I demand to everyone lingering as I enter. Everyone begins to scamper away, fearful and worried, without argument, no doubt questioning if I’m the devil himself as I stand in the room, fury radiating off of me like a hot furnace. “Except you.” I block the path of the sick cunt, trying to get away from me.
When the room is emptied of everyone but us, I waste no time getting to business, knowing I have minutes before security appears.
“You have ten minutes to get your shit and get out of this buildingandthis city. Crawl your skank ass somewhere else. Preferably hell.” I want her gone. Because this is where Casey comes. Lily too. And the thought of her around them, touching them, enrages me.
Her eyes narrow. She thinks she’s powerful because her husband works for a well-known, successful law firm in the city.
I’m not my brother. My connections aren’t endless, but the few I have are deadly. And if I wanted, I could just tell Graham. He’d end them both with a flick of his wrist. But I keep my brother as far away from this shit as I can.
“Do you know who you’re speaking to?” she hisses.
“I do,” I growl. “But I guess you don’t remember me. Remember how you laughed when Krista would keep me in line by offering her daughter toyou?”Her eyes widen, and she tries to take a step back. “Remember how she blackmailed and threatened me to cooperate so you two could get your rocks off? Or how about when you brought your husband in? How is Richard, by the way? I hear he’s moved up the ladder since then. When’s the last time you heard from Krista, Bristol?” Her head tilts. But I don’t need an answer. I know it’s been almost six months since anyone heard from her because she’s dead. I just wish I’d done it myself. Or at least been there.
The world may not know it, but she’s dead. Karma finally got the bitch when she kidnapped Casey and tried to sell her to the mafia—not Dominic, but another rival family.
I just wish it had been me who ended her. Or I could’ve been there to witness her final breath. I hope she suffered.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she hisses.
“Don’t lie to me,” I spit, eliminating the inches between us until I’m hovering over her, ignoring the way my skin crawls when her chest brushes me.
She shudders from the violence in my tone and takes a breath. “It was consensual. You let us.”
“Consent under duress isn’t consent. Ask Richard if you don’t believe me. But regardless, I was sixteen, you dumb slut.”
Part of my issue is legally, logically, I know none of it was my fault. But it still feels like my fault.
“What do you want?”
“I already told you. Get your shit and leave this place. And I don’t mean this salon or even this borough. Leave the continent. You’ll keep your sleazy, vile hands off of anyone but your pedophile husband. Don’t assume because you’re out of sight that I won’t be watching.”
“You must be joking,” she scoffs.
“Look at my face and tell me I’m kidding.” She swallows hard. “Twenty-four hours.”
“And what if I don’t? It’s your word against ours.”
My lips part, malice pouring from my grin. “Oh, you’re under the impression I’ll go to the police? Nah, sweetheart. That’s too good for you. Leaving is too, but I figure it’s better than creating a mess for someone to clean.”
“O-okay. W-we’ll go.”
