“Mr. Delgado expects to see you tonight,” he said softly. “You will not be late.”
I stared at him. Swallowed. “I—I wasn’t planning to—”
Calmly he reached into his pocket and pulled out a photo, then dropped it onto the counter and pushed it toward me.
I didn’t want to take it, but my hand moved anyway, bile already rising up my throat.
I picked it up and unfolded it. It was a glossy color image of a long line of women. Naked. Kneeling on concrete. Their hands bound behind their backs. Their heads down.
They were in some kind of holding area—bare walls, metal piping overhead, puddles of water on the floor. It looked like a warehouse or a basement. One of the women had what appeared to be blood smeared down her thigh.
My hand started to shake.
I looked up. The man was still watching me.
One corner of his lips raised, and he grunted as he plucked the photo from my hand, folded it, and slid it back into his coat.
“You please the boss,” he said, tapping the side of his jacket, “your life stays easy.”
Then he leaned closer.
“If not…” He tapped the gun. “You’ll be relocated.”
He pulled back and smiled—just a twitch of his lips.
“Keep your mouth shut, mi muñeca.”
Then he turned and walked out.
As soon as the door shut behind him, all the air in my lungs I hadn’t realized I’d been holding in whooshed out.
I stood frozen.
Carmine reacted quickly.
“Office. Now,” he said, already heading toward the rear of the shop.
I followed on autopilot, my feet barely working. He opened the office door and let me step in first, then closed it behind us.
“Mind telling me what the fuck that was about?” he asked.
I tried to find words. Failed. My throat was dry.
“Lyla,” he said, stepping in closer. “Look at me. Who the hell was that?”
“Just—just someone from my other job, I guess,” I croaked. “He was reminding me about something I had to do tonight for the boss.”
Carmine’s brows drew together. “What other job?”
I hesitated, looking down at my feet.
His voice dropped, all gravel and steel now. “Where else do you work?”
My stomach turned. “The Sacrifice.”
Carmine went still.
“What?” His tone wasn’t harsh, but the question still stabbed me in the heart. “You work at The Sacrifice strip club?”
