Because it did.
I’d watched it all from my phone. Every roll of her hips. Every breath.
Something deep inside me had erupted into fury every time she turned her eyes toward Delgado.
She’d been performing for him—only him.
And I had almost lost my goddamn mind.
At one point, she’d missed a grip—slightly, but I’d caught it. Then her entire demeanor had changed. She’d looked directly at him, remaining frozen for a half-second before shifting into overdrive—sensuality distilled and served like fine wine in a crystal flute.
I took another drag, holding it in so the nicotine could settle my simmering anger.
The bastard hadn’t come to drink. He’d come to measure her worth—her loyalty.
She must’ve known it.
And yet…she’d calmly seduced him. Right there onstage. In front of every man in the room. She moved with slow, powerful confidence, as if offering her body to a man like him was nothing.
My cock had responded like a goddamn traitor with her every bend, roll, and thrust.
She’d submitted.
Not to me.
To fucking Delgado.
My fists clenched.
She wasn’t some inexperienced little lamb after all. The way she moved—like seduction was second nature to her—told me everything. She knew exactly what she was doing and what it would do to a man like him.
And I hated her for it.
I hated how she made me want her more with every passing second.
What did she think this was?
Some game?
A performance to earn favor with the devil?
Even now, I could see her in my mind—knees wide, wrists crossed in front of her cunt like she was begging for handcuffs, giving him that soft little smile, offering herself up.
Christ.
I needed to get control of myself.
Needed to get control ofher.
She didn’t even know how close she was to being torn apart.
I flicked the cigarette butt into the gutter and crossed the street. The bass from inside The Sacrifice hummed through my body as I turned the corner and entered the alley behind the club.
Around back, I stepped into the space between two dumpsters. The minutes dragged on as I waited for her to leave. My mind drifted to Delgado’s man showing up at Xyst with Jarvis Hayes yesterday. Xyst wasn’t a playground anymore, and those boys running the place weren’t bystanders. It was time they became made men—bound by blood, by silence, by oath—swearing allegiance to me. I wouldn’t take loyalty that wasn’t freely given. Only the willing survived. They would need to bend the knee or get out of the way.
Then the back door of the club creaked open, interrupting my thoughts.
Lyla stepped out, her sneakers whispering against the ground, that goddamn hoodie pulled up over her head. I was going to burn that thing and buy her a proper coat.
