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My interest was piqued when in the fight before mine, a petite woman with ink-black hair and beautiful tanned skin stepped into the cage. She was maybe five foot two, but she was built like someone who knew what she was doing. But that wasn’t what convinced me that she knew what the fuck she was doing. It was the bloodthirsty glare and the way she paced the octagon.

A caged predator.

That was what her body language screamed. It was the same way I looked before a fight.

I was in my midtwenties at the time, so I’d already pulled some big jobs and had money of my own. I bet a hundred grand on her that night, and I didn’t just bet that she’d win, either. I bet it’d be by KO. The bitch still jokes that I owe her half my winnings.

She didn’t realize it was all set up in an account for her for when she was finally ready to get out from under that fucker Mario. All thoughts of my arms dealer friend ended when Kenji cut the engine in front of a decrepit-looking building.

“Damn, woman. I don’t think I ever want to ride that bike without you.” He turned toward me, his fingers brushing my chin as he helped take my helmet off. We wore matching grins, the electricity of the ride still coursing through our systems.

“How about next time I drive, and you can plaster your dick against my ass cheeks?” I asked playfully, but my pussy fluttered when his gaze darkened and he stepped closer, leaning forward to whisper in my ear.

“I’d love to do things with my dick and your ass.”

My brain short-circuited at his words as lust washed over me. The moment he took in my face, he chuckled and tugged on my hand, leading us toward the brick building. Glass crunched underfoot, and muffled voices hit my ears. Kenji looked over his shoulder at me, his eyes raking over my body but not in a sexual way. He was gauging my reaction to walking into an unlit abandoned building in the middle of a sketchy neighborhood at night.

He wasn’t going to find fear. Hell, he wasn’t even going to find concern.

I’d let him see the Scar this part of the criminal underworld knew. Fuck, I was excited to see their reactions to learning how fucking intertwined I really was. There was something so satisfying about watching men show their whole asses as they dug themselves into holes with their mansplaining.

Ryan dealt with it all the time since people mistook her for a dude with her name. It was why she welcomed the nickname Brujita de Los Muertos. It let men know a woman was coming for their fucking balls. I got similar reactions right before I pulled out a knife and sliced their throats, oftentimes only a few hours after I had let them wine and dine me.

“Stick close to me, okay? This is a rough crowd you’re going to be around.” His eyes dipped to my sports bra, and he groaned. “And for the love of all things sinful, if anyone asks if you belong to someone, you fucking do. Got it? You belong to me, and I’ll carve their eyes out for looking.”

My nipples hardened at the possessive growl in his voice as he gave me the warning. I couldn’t even muster up the anger at being claimed because it was so hot.

“Yours, huh? I thought I was married to your brother,” I sassed, needing to regain some control, and having Kenji pissed would be easier to handle than having him look at me like he was going to fuck me against the graffiti- and grime-covered walls. But the comment had the opposite reaction.

“Oh, babe, he wants the best for his wife. Who do you think sent you with me tonight? Caleb is very in favor of you being taken care of,” he said, leaning to speak in my ear again, his breath causing my skin to break out in goose bumps. “Even if being taken care of means letting you have a dick for every hole to make sure you’re feeling full.”

My cheeks flamed as images of all three of them surrounding me as I writhed in pleasure flashed in my mind. I was so entranced in the fantasy that I barely registered that Kenji was tugging me along behind him. The fog of lust was broken, though, when we approached a metal door.

I smiled at the sight of the rust-covered entrance.

It looked like a piece of shit, but that was all by design. A new, shiny-looking door would have drawn too much attention, and a bouncer would have too. So security for this place was all done remotely until you got inside.

I glanced to the upper corner of the alcove we’d stepped into; the camera was tucked up in the corner inconspicuously.

“What are we doing here?” I asked as we waited to be buzzed in, anticipation and trepidation making my skin feel too tight. The curiosity in my tone was genuine, but I was well acquainted with this particular spot. Kenji didn’t look at me when he answered, keeping his eyes trained on the door. His shoulders were pulled back, but his limbs were loose. Ready to strike.

“Initiation. We decided to give you a leash. See if you hang yourself or not.”

My hackles rose at the insinuation, but I kept my reaction in check, resisting the urge to clench my fists or stab him.

“This place holds fights. They make big money for the mob, and we’re going to get them to partner with us instead.”

I raised a brow at that.

“Smart. Get the smaller organizations to switch who they work under,” I said. These smaller organizations and gangs were more valuable than they even realized. Not separately, but all together? Yeah, that would get the Syndicate enough power to overtake their daddies.

“What do you know about who runs this?” I asked, curious about how much he knew and what the plan was.

Before he got a chance to answer, there was a clicking noise, and the door popped open, revealing a set of metal stairs that led below ground into the heart of the real operation. An operation I was very familiar with.

Well, this will be fun.

CHAPTER 28