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I sighed and leaned forward to divulge the secret. “Will you believe me if I tell you Knox Graves, the Enforcer of the Sons?”

Her smile froze on her face. Her eyes widened next. She slapped a hand over her mouth. “You're joking.”

A wry smile tilted my lips. “I'm not.”

She sat back, dazed. “Wow.” She stared at me some more. “So, all this time, you've been with the Sons? No wonder Derek couldn't find you.”

“Even if he did, there's nothing he can do.”

Ava’s expression softened. “Is he good to you?”

The question mattered. More than she knew. Because there was a time it was all I needed somebody to ask me.

“Yes.”

Ava looked surprised, but she didn't question it. Instead, she said, “Tell me everything.”

So, I did. And I was so lost in the discussion, I didn't see the man standing outside the door, holding up his phone and taking a picture of us. Or me.

Neither did I feel it when I said goodbye to Ava after an emergency call came in from the clinic, demanding her presence—we were short-staffed and thus required to be at the clinic when needed.

I got into my car, ready to drive off, but it wouldn't start. When I stepped out to see what it was, I found all my tires slashed. My blood ran cold. A shiver raced down my spine.

I turned to grab my phone from the car when a hand pressed over my nose from behind, covering it with a handkerchief. The smell suffocated me. I was dizzy in an instant.

The last words I heard before my eyes closed and my body fell to the ground were “Stupid dumb bitch thinking she could hide from me.”

Chapter Thirteen

Knox

The problem with running an operation was that everyone thought the hardest part was getting your hands dirty. It wasn’t. The hardest part was dealing with idiots who made you want to do it.

I stood in the warehouse office overlooking the loading floor, staring at three men who looked like they’d rather be anywhere else. Very smart of them. If they were smarter, they wouldn't be here at all. But that wasn't for me to fix.

“You’re telling me the shipment is delayed because the driver got drunk?” I asked, spinning around to the men in the room.

Nobody answered. They all averted their gazes from me, sensing my rising temper. I indulged my men when it was time to have fun, but when we were working, I didn't like to play around, and they knew me for that. Nico had fucked around and found out.

I leaned back in my chair, not bothering to hide the irritation etched across my face. “Say it again.”

The man closest to me swallowed. “The driver ... stopped at a bar.”

“And?” I prompted.

“He didn’t make it to the drop.”

I stared at him. “You lost a shipment because a grown man couldn’t stay sober for six hours?”

“He said he was only having one.”

A humorless laugh escaped me. “Everyone who says that is already on their fifth.”

The room stayed quiet. This shit was getting old. Every time I had to clean up somebody else's mistakes, it was always because somebody got greedy. Or lazy. Predictable. Selfish. All sorts of behavior that betrayed the oneness we were supposed to portray. It pissed me off.

They forgot that the Sons of Sin name meant something. This was where people who needed help with these sorts of ... delays came to sometimes. So why should we be having such problems ourselves?

There was no need to worry, though. This was why I was here. To remind them. I grabbed the file from the desk. “Find the driver.” The prospect nodded. “Bring him to me.”