LOGINChapter 5
Zane’s POV I sat at the bar counter with a fresh whiskey in front of me and a cigar burning low between my fingers. The ash tray was full. Smoke curled up slowly. The bartender kept his distance. Good. I didn’t want to have a conversation. I just wanted the burn in my throat and a minute to sit in my own lane. The curse never shut off. Heightened senses picked up every damn thing. Emotions rolled in like static on a bad radio. Right now the whole club fed me a mess of greed, lust, and desperation. I took a long drag on the cigar and let the smoke sit in my lungs. Rule number one: do not intervene. People made their own shit. I had plenty. But her signal cut through everything. Laila. That sharp spike of fear from earlier still lingered in my head. I tried to push it down. Drank more. Smoked harder. It didn’t fade. The frequency only got louder. I stubbed out the cigar, stood up, and moved before I could stop myself. Boots hit the floor heavy down the back hallway. The storage room door was shut but I felt it all. Rico’s sick excitement. Her panic rose fast. I pushed the door open. Rico had her pinned hard against the metal shelves. One hand twisted in her hair, the other up her skirt. She was struggling, small fists hitting his chest. I crossed the room in two steps. Grabbed him by the back of the neck and ripped him off her. He slammed into the concrete. I could have finished it. Crushed his skull under my boot. Snapped his neck clean. My body wanted to. But I held back. Too many eyes in this place. Too much cleanup. I settled for driving my fist into his jaw once, twice, then a knee to the ribs. Bone gave way. He curled up coughing blood. “Get out,” I told her. My voice stayed flat. She stared at me, chest heaving, eyes wide. I pulled the thick envelope from inside my jacket and held it out. Cash. Enough to breathe for a while. Her fingers brushed mine when she took it. The d******d hit like a freight train. No soft pictures. Just raw data slamming into my skull. Family debt crushing them. My father dead years ago. Mother wasting away from illness. Brothers gone or useless. Landlords threatening. Collectors at the door every week. Fear that never slept. It all flooded in fast, disorienting, too much at once. I yanked my hand back. That was the real reason for the money. Not some soft heart. Her pain was too loud to tune out. I turned and left her standing there. Rule broken again. The edge in my blood needed out. Club fights earlier were useless. Those guys folded too easy. Punches landed soft. No real release. I drove across town to the strip club. Bass thumped through the walls. Lights low and red. Girls moved on stage but none of them held my attention long. I took a seat in the back corner. One woman in blue caught my eye. Tall, dark hair, body built for sin. Our eyes met. No words. She gave a small nod and I tilted my head toward the private rooms. Arrangement made. She led me down the short hall. Door shut behind us. The room was a small, black leather couch against one wall, mirror on the other. She pushed me down onto the couch. Her hands moved quickly, unbuttoning my shirt and spreading it open. Nails scraped down my chest. I leaned back and watched her. She peeled her top off slow, full tits spilling out, dark nipples already hard. She straddled me, grinding her hips down against my lap. Heat built fast between us. I gripped her waist hard, fingers digging into soft flesh. She moaned low and rocked harder. My cock thickened under her. She felt it and smiled, reaching down to rub me through my pants. I lifted my hips and she worked the zipper open, freeing me. Her hand wrapped around my shaft, stroking firm from base to tip. Pre-cum leaked already. She spread it with her thumb and kept pumping. “Big,” she muttered. I didn’t answer. Just pulled her closer and took one nipple in my mouth. Sucked hard. She arched, pushing more into me. My teeth grazed the stiff peak. She gasped. Her hand sped up on my cock. I switched to the other tit, sucking and biting while my free hand slid under her short skirt. No panties. Wet already. I pushed two fingers inside her pussy. Tight and hot. She rode my hand, grinding down. Juices coated my fingers. I added a third, stretching her. She moaned louder, head falling back. I needed more. Stood up, lifting her with me. Set her on the couch on her knees. Yanked the skirt up over her ass. Round and firm. I spread her cheeks and pushed my cock against her entrance. One thrust and I buried deep. She cried out, walls clenching around me. Wet heat gripped every inch. I pulled back slowly then slammed in again. Hard. The sound of skin slapping filled the room. I set a rough rhythm, pounding into her. One hand fisted her hair, the other gripped her hip, pulling her back onto me with every stroke. “Fuck,” she gasped. “Harder.” I gave it to her. Thrusts deep and fast. Her pussy fluttered around my cock. Sweat slicked our skin. I reached around and rubbed her clit in tight circles. She shook, pushing back against me. I kept driving in, balls slapping her pussy with every thrust. The pressure built in my spine. Close. I pulled out, flipped her onto her back. Spread her legs wide and drove back in. Her tits bounced with each slam. I leaned down, biting her neck while I fucked her deep. She wrapped her legs around me, heels digging into my back. Nails raked down my shoulders. Her moans turned into sharp cries. I felt her tighten, pussy pulsing hard. She came first, soaking my cock, body shaking under me. I kept thrusting through it, chasing my own release. Then Laila’s presence slammed into my senses. Her signal cut through everything. Fear, anger, raw determination. She was right outside. My head turned toward the door before I saw her. The door opened. There she stood in my oversized jacket, pink crocs on her feet, envelope clutched tight in her hand. She looked small and out of place in the red light. But her eyes burned. Locked right on me buried deep in the other woman. “I told you to Stay away kiddo” I said. Voice low and controlled. She didn’t back down. “I came to return this.” She lifted the envelope. Her voice shook but she kept going. “I don’t need your charity.” The woman under me shifted, confused and pissed. “Who the fuck is this bitch?” Laila stepped forward fast. Then she did something completely unhinged. She shoved the woman hard, knocking her off me and onto the floor. “Get away from him! She’s trying to kill you!” The words hung stupid in the air. Impossible. But she said so much fear and sincerity. Before I could grab Laila and get her out, Rook’s voice came through the door. “Alpha….I mean Boss Zane! Rico’s back with twelve Delta boys behind him.”Chapter 5Zane’s POVI sat at the bar counter with a fresh whiskey in front of me and a cigar burning low between my fingers. The ash tray was full. Smoke curled up slowly. The bartender kept his distance. Good. I didn’t want to have a conversation. I just wanted the burn in my throat and a minute to sit in my own lane.The curse never shut off. Heightened senses picked up every damn thing. Emotions rolled in like static on a bad radio. Right now the whole club fed me a mess of greed, lust, and desperation. I took a long drag on the cigar and let the smoke sit in my lungs. Rule number one: do not intervene. People made their own shit. I had plenty.But her signal cut through everything. Laila. That sharp spike of fear from earlier still lingered in my head. I tried to push it down. Drank more. Smoked harder. It didn’t fade. The frequency only got louder. I stubbed out the cigar, stood up, and moved before I could stop myself. Boots hit the floor heavy down the back hallway. The stor
Chapter FourLaila’s POVMaya had my arm before I even took a step.“Don’t,” she said.“I’m not doing anything.”“You’re about to follow a man who just told you to stay away from him into a crowded bar.” She steered me back toward the stairs with the kind of grip that meant she was done discussing it. “Jacob will handle things down here. Come on.”I let her pull me up the stairs because my legs were still not fully reliable anyway and because part of me knew she was right. The smarter part. The part that wasn’t still feeling the warmth of his hand closing around mine.Maya tucked me back into my room, pulled the blanket up like I was twelve years old, and sat with me until her own eyes started going heavy. She was asleep before midnight, curled on the other side of my bed with one arm across my waist, the way she used to sleep over when we were kids and the world felt too big at night.I lay there and stared at the ceiling.The envelope sat on my vanity. Brown and thick and wrong feel
Chapter ThreeLaila’s POV“I need to thank him, Maya. That’s it. Just thank him.”Maya looked at me like I had lost my mind. Maybe I had. She sat on the edge of my bed with her arms crossed and that expression she wore when she had already decided something was a bad idea but knew arguing with me was pointless.“You just went through something awful,” she said. “You don’t have to do anything tonight.”“I know I don’t have to.” I pulled the hoodie down over my head and pushed my arms through the sleeves. It was Darius’s old one, three sizes too big, faded grey, the kind of soft that only came from years of washing. I pulled the joggers up and tied the waist. “I want to.”She watched me walk to the mirror.I stood there for a second and looked at myself. Swollen cheek. Eyes still red and puffy. My hair pulled back because I hadn’t had the energy to do anything with it after the shower.And underneath the hoodie, even with all that fabric, I could still see the shape of me. The chest tha
Chapter TwoLaila’s POVThe door didn’t open.It came off the wall.One second Rico was leaning over me, phone in hand, red camera light blinking. The next, wood cracked and the whole door swung back so hard it bounced off the shelf and sent three bottles crashing to the floor.The man who walked in wasn’t tall in a way that made you think model or athlete. He was tall in a way that made the room shrink. Big through the shoulders, a black jacket sitting on him like it was built for his frame. A cigar burned between two fingers, smoke curling lazy and slow like he had all the time in the world.He looked at Rico first.Then he looked at me.His eyes moved over the room fast. The broken glass. My torn skirt. My face. He took it all in and something behind his eyes went very, very flat.Rico straightened up and tried to look unbothered. “Private business, man. Walk away.”The man took one long drag of his cigar. Blew the smoke out slow . Set the cigar carefully on the edge of a shelf lik
Chapter OneLaila’s POV“Please. Don’t do this to me.”My voice came out smaller than I wanted. Shaking. The kind of scared that lives in your throat and won’t let you breathe right.The liquor storage room smelled like cheap whiskey and dust and something sour underneath it all. One bare bulb hung from the ceiling, swinging just slightly, throwing shadows that moved like they were alive. The shelves on both sides were stacked floor to ceiling with bottles. No windows. One door. And Rico standing between me and it.There was nowhere to go.“Rico, please.” I pressed my back harder against the shelves. Glass clinked behind me. “You watched out for me when I first started here. You said I was like a little sister to you. You said that.”He laughed. Not a warm laugh. The kind that makes your skin crawl.“That was before you started walking around here like that with those huge boobs and wide sexy hips” His eyes moved over me slow , the way a man looks at something he has already decided b







