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There’s no need to worry about me going easy on him. But then again, he hasn’t said that for my benefit, but rather for Ricardo’s. And it works. Within a second of those words leaving Devil’s mouth, Ricardo is begging me to stop.

“Please, man, I won’t do this shit again! I promise!” He loses his shit and attempts to get up, but I place my boot on his chest and press hard to keep him down.

The door to the bedroom opens and the music from downstairs floods the small space. A blonde girl practically falls into the room, slamming the door behind her. She comes to a halt when she spots us. Her gaze quickly flicks from me to Ricardo to Devil, at which point she narrows her eyes and stumbles forward towards us. “Devil?”

Fucking hell. She’s King’s daughter. The one he warned me off months ago at his other kid’s birthday party.

Zara.

“Fuck,” I mutter. This is a complication we don’t fucking need.

“Jesus, Zara,” Devil says as she trips and crashes into me. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

I catch her, stopping her fall. For my efforts, I’m rewarded with her throwing up all over me.

“Oh God, I feel so sick,” she mumbles, clutching my shirt and looking like she’s got more in her to share with me.

“No shit,” I say, trying to pry her fingers from my shirt. I’ve removed my foot from Ricardo, but not my attention. He’s taking the opportunity to get up, which I’ll deal with in a moment, but first I want to move Zara to sit on the bed so I can take my vomit-soaked shirt off. Vomit is the one thing I’m not good with; if I don’t get the smell away from me, I’m likely to fucking vomit right alongside her.

“You deal with her,” Devil says. “I’ll deal with Ricardo.”

I’m a hundred fucking percent sure I just got the shitty deal here.

Guiding Zara to the bed, I order, “Sit. And if you feel like chucking again, don’t fucking do it on me.”

She sits, staring up at me through bloodshot eyes. Her gaze drops to my shirt as I lift it over my head. “Sorry,” she says with regret.

I do my best to get the shirt off without dragging vomit through my hair but fail. Pissed off, I give up and just get the fucking thing off. Right as Zara bends over and throws up on my boots.

“For fuck’s sake,” I bark, throwing the shirt on the floor.

“Did you take anything?” Devil asks Zara from where he is with Ricardo who he’s knocked unconscious.

She lifts her head and slowly straightens. Frowning, she says, “Huh?”

I take hold of her face and angle it up. “Her eyes are shot. I wouldn’t be fucking surprised if she has.”

Smacking at my hand, she clues on to what Devil asked and says, “I haven’t.” When I keep my grip firm on her face, she grumbles, “You’re hurting me.”

I still don’t let her go. “You about done vomiting all the fuck over me?”

Pulling her face out of my hold, she hits me with a defiant glare, more with it than when she first entered the room. “I’m fine. I’m not gonna vomit again.”

I shake my head. “You are far from fine.”

As Zara and I glare at each other, Devil’s phone rings. He answers it and by the sounds of the conversation, it’s his old lady. I tune them both out and concentrate on figuring out how to clean myself up.

Stalking out of the room, I locate the bathroom down the hall and am thankful as fuck when I discover it’s empty. Shutting myself in there, I clean off my boots and throw my shirt in the bin. I’ll have to make a stop at my house on the way back to the warehouse to retrieve a new shirt. That fact pisses me off more than I already am. I don’t have time to be fucking about with this shit that Zara has caused.

She eyes me as I enter the room again. Standing, she turns her attention to Devil and says, “Don’t tell King about this. He doesn’t need to be worried anymore about me.”

I have no clue what she’s referring to because King keeps personal shit close to his chest, but I’m not on board with keeping anything from him. Not something like this, anyway. If he discovers we found his daughter in this state, there will be hell to pay. Besides, I’d want to know about this if it were my kid. Letting him know is the right thing to do.

“Not happening,” I say before Devil even has a chance to think about it.

Zara’s head snaps around to face me. “What?”

I pin my gaze to hers. My expression hard. “You heard me.”

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