Chapter 6:The Wrong Place

Dominic’s POV

The underground club was alive with shadowsand smoke. Bass thumped through the walls, aheartbeat beneath the city, where men like methrived. Deals were made here. Fortunes sealedin blood and silence.

I stood at the back of a private booth, fingerswrapped around a glass of whiskey, watchingthe men at the table. Three of them. Russian.Old money. Arrogant bastards. They thoughtthey could sit in my city and negotiate terms.

I let them talk—for now.

Vadim, the one in the center, leaned forward,gold rings catching the dim light. “We’ll takefifty percent of the shipment. You get the rest.That’s fair.”

I didn’t blink. Didn’t move. Just set my glassdown on the polished table.

“No.”

The room stilled.

Vadim frowned. “No?”

I exhaled slowly, shifting in my chair. Theywere pushing their luck.

I turned my gaze to his left-hand man, Yuri. Hehadn’t spoken once, just sat there, watching melike he was waiting for a tell. A mistake.

I smirked. Idiots.

“You don’t tell me what’s fair,” I said, voicesmooth. “I own this city. Every street, everyclub, every deal that moves through it. Youdon’t negotiate. You listen.” I leaned forward,holding Vadim’s stare. “And you obey.”

Silence.

Vadim swallowed but forced a tight smile.“We’re just looking for a—”

I flicked my wrist, and in one swift motion, Leoslammed a knife into the table. Inches fromVadim’s hand.

The Russian flinched.

I smiled. “See, that’s the problem. You don’t‘look’ for shit. You take what I give you.Nothing more.”

Tension rippled across the table.

Then Yuri—stupid, fucking Yuri—spoke.

“And if we don’t?”

Leo moved first, but I raised a hand, stoppinghim. Instead, I reached for the knife, yanked itout of the wood, and tapped it against my palm.

I tilted my head. “If you don’t?” I mused. Then Ilooked directly at Yuri. “Then your family gets acall in the morning asking what kind of casketthey prefer.”

Vadim paled. “We don’t want trouble.”

“Then take what I give you.”

Silence.

Then—reluctantly—Vadim nodded. “We have adeal.”

I smirked. “Good.”

I leaned back, letting the tension settle. Leostepped forward to collect the papers, ensuring itwas done. The deal was set. Another win.Another night.

And then—the doors burst open.

Flashing lights. Yelling. The sharp command of“POLICE! HANDS UP!”

I barely reacted. Sloppy. If they were raidinghere, they weren’t looking for me specifically.They wouldn’t have barged in like this if theywere.

Leo moved instantly, shielding my side. Mymen—all trained, all ruthless—were alreadydispersing into the crowd. We’d clear the mess,as always.

Then—I saw her.

Elena Monroe.

Standing near the entrance. Too calm. Toofucking composed for someone in the wrongplace.

My fingers tightened around the knife.

What the fuck was she doing here?

The club had turned to chaos. People screamed,drinks spilled, and bodies shoved past oneanother, desperate to disappear before cuffs gotslapped on their wrists. Amateurs.

I didn’t move.

Didn’t need to. This wasn’t my first raid.

Leo was already handling our exit. My men?They knew what to do. The police wouldn’t finda damn thing by the time they pushed past thecrowd.

But none of that mattered right now.

Because I was watching her.

She stood near the entrance, just outside theneon glow. No badge. No gun drawn. Just a stiffstance, arms crossed, eyes scanning the roomlike she belonged here. Like she wasn’tsurrounded by criminals and blood money.

Too calm.

Cops had a look about them during a raid—jittery, alert, ready for a fight. But she wasn’tlooking for threats. She was looking forsomeone.

Looking for me.

I exhaled, rolling my shoulders. Captain or not,she was getting too close.

She didn’t belong in my world, but she keptshowing up in it.

Fucking reckless.

I pushed off my seat and moved through thescattering crowd, smooth and deliberate. I wasinches from her before she even noticed.Careless.

I leaned down slightly, voice low. “This is adangerous place for you, officer.”

She turned. Didn’t flinch.

Her green eyes flicked up to mine, unimpressed.“Then maybe you should leave.”

I stilled.

Leo, who was standing a few feet behind me, letout a quiet chuckle before quickly masking itwith a cough.

I smirked, but it wasn’t friendly. “You got asmart mouth, sweetheart.”

She lifted a brow. “You got a guiltyconscience?”

I laughed once—short and sharp. This girl.

I stepped closer, forcing her back into thedoorway’s shadow. The neon lights painted redstreaks over her skin. Blood-colored. Fitting.

“You shouldn’t be here,” I murmured, trailingmy gaze over her stance, the slight clench in herjaw. Defensive. But not scared. “Bad thingshappen in places like this.”

She tilted her chin up, unbothered. “Only ifyou’re one of the bad guys.”

I smiled. Wrong answer.

I leaned in, lowering my voice just for her. “Oh,sweetheart.” My fingers brushed the side of herarm—not soft, just enough to feel the tensionbeneath her skin. “I am the bad guy.”

She didn’t move.

Didn’t tremble.

Just stared up at me like she hadn’t just walkedinto a viper’s nest with nothing but her mouthand a badge that didn’t mean shit here.

And that made me mad.

Because she didn’t get to be fearless. Not withme.

Before I could say another word, a loud voicecut through the noise.

“Monroe! Get over here.”

I shifted my gaze past her. A sergeant stood bythe bar, waving her over, distracted by somepoor bastard they were hauling in.

Elena took a slow step back. Then another.

But before she was out of reach, she paused,lifting her gaze to mine. “See youaround,....Dominic.”

Then she turned and walked away.

Cocky little thing.

I let her go. For now.

But that night, as the club settled and the policeleft with their empty threats, one thing becamevery clear.

Elena Monroe was going to be a problem.