Total pages in book: 21
Estimated words: 19979 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 100(@200wpm)___ 80(@250wpm)___ 67(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 19979 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 100(@200wpm)___ 80(@250wpm)___ 67(@300wpm)
She glares insolently back at me, her eyes challenging my authority like a bratty child. She really thinks she’s the new queen in town.
My fingers are itching to reach out and grab her by the hair, shatter her defiance, and show her what real control is. I’m the king of Chicago, and every man in this room knows what that means.
I’ve got my .38 in my waistband. I could pull it out and end her life right now. But that would mean starting a war. Plus, she’s just too gorgeous. It would be like throwing paint on a DaVinci.
Instead, I slap her.
I slap her hard.
Her hair whirls, and her pretty little face jerks away from me as my rough palm connects with her soft cheek.
To my surprise, she quickly snaps her face back to mine—her eyes piercing, her lips pursed.
“Is that all you’ve got?”
Without hesitating, she drives her fist straight into my nose.
Yeah. Now we’re getting somewhere.
The bar erupts into chaos around me as my boys attack. Kane drives his knee into a man’s guts and tosses him to the floor. One of my guys takes a stool to the chest but comes up swinging.
It’s mayhem, but Sable and I stand face to face in the eye of the hurricane, staring each other down like mortal enemies.
She swings again, but I block the punch and counter with another slap—this time to her other cheek. They’re both red now, like two ripe tomatoes.
I move in to grab her by the hair, but she kicks me hard, driving the tip of her designer heel into my shin. The strike throws me off balance. She follows up with her fist, driving it straight into my jaw. My head jerks to the side, and I spit blood onto the bar.
Grinning, I look up at her. It’s been a while since anyone actually hurt me.
Deadly fury fills me, but it’s mixed with something deeper. I want to grab her and pin her beneath me—show her who the real boss is.
But when I swing out, aiming a backfist at her gorgeous face, she ducks like a trained fighter and kicks me again, this time right to the stomach.
I train abs religiously, so the blow doesn’t knock the wind out of me, but the stem of her heel is going to leave a mark.
“So you’re not just a pretty face,” I growl, licking the blood from my lip.
This girl clearly knows what she’s doing. I feint to the side, acting like I’m aiming to punch her in the ribs, and when she moves to dodge, my hand darts out and snatches her hair.
The sound of her yelp causes my cock to swell painfully beneath my jeans. I push her up against the bar, bending her back until it’s about to break. I grind my bulge between her thighs so she can feel what she’s doing to me.
Her pupils dilate. “There’s no way you’re hard right now—"
“Violence does things to me, babe.”
One of her men attacks me from the side, trying to score points with his boss by protecting her, but I drop him with a simple elbow to the face.
Sable knees me in the balls, causing me to loosen my grip on her. She dips out from under me and hits me hard in the jaw. This won’t be as easy as I thought.
Grinning, I catch her fist as she goes for the follow-up punch. Without holding back, I knee her right in the guts, causing her to stagger back.
Her skirt tears, showing more of her exceptional legs.
My blood pumps madly, and my breath rasps in my lungs. My fists are balls of hot iron by my sides as the two of us face off.
Men lie at our feet, panting and bleeding, crying out as the fight rages on.
I’ve heard rumors about Sable’s severity, but now I’ve tasted it myself.
“You just don’t know when to go down, do you?” I snarl, searching her stance for a vulnerability.
“Maybe it’s you who needs to go down.”
Sirens blare outside. The cops are coming. We’ve got at least half the force on our payroll, but a brawl like this is too big to sweep under the rug. It’s time to go.
“Yeah, you’d like that,” I snicker.
I drive my boot into one of her guys who’s collapsed at my feet, then turn my back and gather the boys. Bloody and bruised, we step outside and head for our cars, followed almost instantly by Sable and her crew.
So she knows better too than to stick around when the heat shows up.
“Crazy bitch,” Kane growls, sliding in the Lambo with me. He’s got a black eye and a fat lip, but the blood on his knuckles show he did more damage than he took.
“Yeah…” I mutter, pulling off just as the cops arrive. “Crazy…”
We’ve had a peace pact for five years, but tonight’s events may have just broken that truce.