What the fuck?
My mouth falls open at the sight before me.
She’s standing over the guy, who’s doubled up and groaning like a wounded animal, shielding his stomach. Before he can recover, her fist drives into his jaw with a crack that splits the quiet night. He grunts as he stumbles away from her, his hands coming up too slow to block her next hit.
She moves fast—shockingly fast—with a fluid precision I never expected. A sharp kick to his shin, a brutal elbow to his gut, and he folds again, wheezing out curses. But she doesn't let up.
Every strike is ruthlessly efficient, calculated. There’s no flailing, no hesitation. Just practiced violence wrapped in calm control.
I thought she was in danger?Sheis the danger.
Beside me, a shadow materializes from the darkness—Dhimitër, silent as always, now watching the scene unfold withthe same hooked attention I am. “Should we stop her?” he murmurs, amusement threading through his voice.
“No.” My voice is low, even. My eyes never leave her. “Not yet.”
I need to see how this plays out.
“Next time, think twice before attempting to hurt a woman who clearly told you she isn’t interested,” she snaps at him. But he’s not paying attention to her words—too busy trying to defend himself from her assault. It’s pathetic really, watching one of my trained men be brought down to his knees. Literally.
Her elbow smashes into his throat, and he makes a choking, gurgling sound, clutching at his neck as he crumples under the blow.
Grabbing his collar, she yanks his face up, forcing him to meet her blazing eyes. “How does it feel getting beat up by a girl?” she hisses. “By thehelp?”
Ah. So that’s what set her off.My lips curl up, fascination worming its way into my chest.
He whimpers, thoroughly humiliated, his shoulders slumping forward before he face-plants into the dirt, sobbing. “Please… stop. I’m sorry. Just… stop.Please.”
Her eyes narrow dangerously as she rolls her fist, clearly considering whether he’s suffered enough. “You gonna tell anyone about this?”
He shakes his head frantically as he pushes himself up on trembling arms. “No. Of course not. You think I’m going to brag about getting beat up?”
“Good.” She kicks him square in the chest, and he lands on his back, immediately scrambling away from her on his elbows.
“Shit,” Dhimitër whispers, a hint of surprised admiration in his tone. “Didn’t know the maid had it in her.”
“Neither did I.” My smirk widens into something darker. Because now I’m sure—Mia Jorge isn’t who she claims to be. She’s a liar. But I’m going to find out exactly who she really is.
And God help her when I do.
I step out of the shadows, clapping slowly.I’ve seen enough.
Mia’s eyes go wide with surprise when she sees Dhimitër and me, and she takes an instinctive step back. I ignore her for now, focusing instead on the pathetic heap of a man on the ground who quickly scrambles to his feet, wincing and grunting as he forces himself to stand at attention before me.
At least he still remembers who’s in charge.
“What’s your name?” I ask, my voice deceptively mild.
“Frederik, sir,” he answers, his voice scratchy and strained, like he’s in agony as he clutches his stomach.
I eye him without an ounce of sympathy. He deserves everything he got. And more. “Frederik,” I repeat softly. “Go with Dhimitër and wait for me in thefrigorifer.” The refrigerator—though it’s really a cold room. A very,verycold room.
Frederik’s face goes pale as my second-in-command grabs his arm. “I’ll see to your wounds there,” Dhimitër says, but his smile is all teeth, promising nothing good.
Once they disappear into the darkness, I turn my attention back to Mia—or whatever her real name is. “Where did you learn to fight like that?”
She’s silent for several heartbeats, watching me carefully, clearly trying to determine how much I saw. Then she shrugs. “It’s not so much my skills as his lack of them.”
She’s quick with her words, clever even under pressure.
