"Breathe," I commanded, one hand at his throat, the other gripping his hip. "Stay with me."
"They're going to—"
"We won't let that happen," I cut him off, applying just enough pressure to his throat to focus his attention. "We need information, not a bloodbath. Not yet."
His eyes burned into mine, and for a moment, I glimpsed the deadly enforcer beneath the submissive exterior—the Owl’s Talon, executioner for the Azzaro family. Then he exhaled slowly, some of the tension leaving his body.
"I need you to stay in control. Rhea does too." I softened my touch, but not my voice. "Can you do that for me?"
He nodded once decisively. "Yes, Goddess."
"Good boy." I rewarded him with a deep kiss, claiming his mouth until I felt him surrender to it, his hands remaining obediently at his sides even as shoulders slacked, head falling back, lips parting on a shuddered exhale. Sweat gleamed across the sculpted planes of his chest, catching the low light as he trembled beneath my touch. No doubt the metal cage between his legs strained against its confines, His arousal was evidentdespite the restriction, a physical manifestation of the beautiful contradiction he embodied: power willingly leashed.
When I pulled back, his eyes had darkened with desire, the rage temporarily submerged beneath need. Perfect. I could work with that.
"We're going back out there," I told him, adjusting his mask. "You'll kneel beside me and listen. Gather every detail. And when we leave, we will figure out what our next steps are."
"And then?" The question carried all his furious intent.
I traced the outline of the owl tattoo on his side. "Then, we use what we know to save her."
Returning to the main floor, I spotted the district attorney in one corner, his gaze following me with recognition. One of my regular clients, he enjoyed being humiliated by powerful women—a secret that would end his career if it was ever leaked. I acknowledged him with a slight nod before choosing a new vantage point, one that gave us a clear view of Juarez's lieutenant while keeping us partially obscured.
I guided Gavriel to kneel at my feet, positioning him so his back was to the room. No one would suspect we were gathering intelligence for a rescue operation.
Juarez's goon had moved to the bar, now speaking with a man I recognized as one of Don Azzaro's security team. Their voices carried just enough for us to catch fragments.
". . . transportation arranged for Friday morning . . ."
". . . private ceremony at the estate . . ."
". . . Don Azzaro insists on tradition . . ."
Gavriel remained perfectly still beside me, only the slight tremor in his shoulders betraying his emotional state. I ran my fingers through his hair, both for comfort and as a reminder of his role.
I wondered why they felt so comfortable talking openly about this. Sure there were NDA’s signed to be in here, even on a guest pass, but that didn’t extend to something like this.
"The girl has disappeared though," Azzaro's man said, his voice dropping lower.
“You’ve lost her?”
“Not exactly. We will have her there, even if we have to sedate her.”
The lieutenant shrugged. "Don Juarez finds his women more entertaining when they fight back. Just make sure you don’t give her so much that he can’t enjoy his new wife on the way back to San Diego."
My own anger flared, hot and sharp. Rhea didn’t deserve this. The thought of her drugged and terrified made something primal rise within me.
"We have the timeline now," I whispered to Gavriel, bending down as if to issue an intimate command.
He turned his head slightly, looking up at me with such raw trust that it stole my breath. "What if that’s too long?"
A valid concern. I considered our options, mentally cataloging resources, contacts, and escape routes. "We need to leave. Figure out our next steps."
Standing, I tugged gently on his chain. "Up, pet. We're going home."
As we made our way toward the exit, I spotted Senator Michaels entering with his latest mistress. His eyes widened slightly when he saw me—another client who paid handsomely for my discretion and skill with a whip. I filed the information of him publicly being out without his wife. The political connections might prove useful if things went sideways.
Outside, the night air hit us like a physical shock after the heated interior of the club. I kept Gavriel close as we walked to my car, the silver chain still connecting us.
