It’s hard to believe the gala is forty-eight hours away as Angie and I lay here post-scorching hot sex. We’re both on our backs, naked, and staring at the ceiling, our fingers twining and untwining while we chat. There’s peace in this. I don’t want any more chaos that has consumed my life. 

I want more of this.

Except, I have no idea what awaits me as Augusta’s employee, but if Bernard can still be the family man, then maybe it won’t be so bad.

“What do you like about me?” Angie asks.

“You mean, what do I love?” 

“Don’t say my tits!” 

“They are lovely, though.” I pinch her nipple softly, and she bats my hand away, laughing.

“I mean it. What do you love?” 

“Your honesty. Even when it’s sharp and dices me to tiny pieces. I love your laugh when you’re genuinely happy. Your smile when you’re with Ana. The way I can smell your scent on the pillows. It might just be your shampoo, but it reminds me of you.”

“Yep, it’s my hair wash,” Angie giggles. “But go on.”

Obliging, I turn onto my side to face her and coil my finger around one of the curls draped across her pillow. “Well, for selfish reasons, I love that you love me. I know I’m not easy to get along with, and I’ve said hurtful things and done hurtful things, but you’ve looked past my bullshit. No, more like inside me. I used to think Celia knew me the best since we were together for so long, but I’ve realized she didn’t truly know me because she was never fully in. Her heart was with Ramona.”

“I guess I could say the same about Jeremiah. I think I was more of an object he could own. I was something new and exciting he could show off, but then he got bored and found someone else that was shiny and new.”

“He didn’t appreciate moments like this. That’s why.” I pull her into me, and she squeals but doesn’t fight it. Instead, she pushes the hair out of my eyes and kisses me. 

Then, she rests her hand on my chest, nuzzles my nose with hers, and whispers, “I love your fierce desire to protect the people you love. Even when your approach is flawed because I know it’s coming from a good place. You have a sharp tongue, too, which strangely comforts me because I know you’ll never let someone disrespect me, and you’ll always be honest, even if it’s brutal. I love how you don’t give up. How loyal you are. How good of a son you are. And I love that you love Ana. As for the selfish part… I love your big dick.”

“Of course,” I huff, but she laughs and laughs.

“Ok, but more seriously. I love that you understand me and have been able to see past how fucked up I am,” Angie’s voice cracks, a tear rolling down to her chin. “Because I… I really am fucked up.” 

“No.” I kiss the tears dampening her cheeks. “If you’re fucked up, then I am too, but together, we make sense.”

“Please don’t leave me, Miguel.” She closes her eyes, causing more tears to spill.

“I won’t.” I kiss her lashes. 

“People always leave me, and I’m so tired of being alone.”

“Look at me,” I say, holding her face. “I love you, and I will never abandon you.”

With watery eyes, Angie smiles and crashes her mouth to mine but says through kisses, “I love you, Miguel. I love you.” 

My need for her resurfaces, so I roll her onto her back, part her legs with my knees, and she allows me to re-enter the warm space that connects us as one. 

I will never, ever let her go.

∆∆∆

It’s the evening of the gala, and I’m fastening the cuffs on this damn suit Augusta is forcing me to wear. But I have to admit I look damn good in it. Black on black with satin lapels and a black satin tie. Apparently, the rest of her security team is wearing the same thing, but I’ll be the best-looking damn one. Behind me, Angie hops around as she balances on one foot and then the other while slipping on her heels.

“Need help?” I say to her reflection in the mirror.

“Yes. Please.”

She sits on the edge of the bed and lifts her sparkling gown for me. So, I kneel and pull the straps through the buckles on her stilettos, then kiss her shins when finished. 

“You look absofucking gorgeous,” I say, and help her to her feet.

“And you…” She stands on tiptoes, draping her arms around my neck. “Look absofucking handsome.”

“See you there?” 

“Of course.” She kisses me, then pulls back to study my eyes. “It will be strange seeing you there as Augusta’s employee. I still don’t like it, but I understand. It’s just going to take getting used to.”

“For me, too.”

Nodding with a deep breath, Angie slips her arms away and smooths down her dress. “Time for you to go, Lover. Franky is picking me up in twenty minutes, so I’ll see you there.”

Before leaving, I spritz some cologne, grab my keys and phone, and shout I love you, on my way to the door. Angie blows kisses, so I pretend to catch one and slip it into my breast pocket. When I finally exit the apartment, Sammy is leaning against the building, wearing his leather jacket and a fedora, rubbing his hands. I’m surprised to see the old Italian man. We haven’t really talked since the night we interrogated Evan. He knows I’m attending the party, but he doesn’t know I work for Augusta now. So why is he here? His blue eyes meet my gaze, and he kicks off the building. 

“Wanted to let you know one of mine will be there tonight and will look out for you and Angie if anything goes down.”

I furrow my brows. “Did you hear something will happen?” 

“You never know.” Sammy shrugs. “The word on the street is something ain’t right.”

“Like what?” 

“That the Sisters are at odds, which can’t be good. Many suspect they’ll go to war with each other, which is great for me because I can sneak in through the back door. Figuratively speaking.”

“Are you serious?”

“No better time to strike than while they’re weak. I meant what I said that night your friend got shot. I want to take back what’s mine.”

I blow out a breath, running a hand through my hair. “Fuck! This isn’t good.”

“What do you mean? This is perfect. Those broads deserve to be ejected from power.”

“I mean that Augusta is helping Angie get her rights back. This could mess it up.”

“What?” Sammy narrows his eyes and steps closer. “Now, why would she do that?”

“Because…” I look away and cuss, unsure whether to spill the beans. But I might as well. “Because I work for her now.”

Sammy reels back, his brows furrowed with confusion and disgust. “You fucking serious?”

“Yes.”

He leans in, his finger in my face with a tisk. “Wrong move. You should have come to me for help.”

“It’s not personal. I only did it to protect everyone I love.”

That infuriates him.

He grabs me by the lapels and snarls in my face, “You stupid boy! Not personal? Angie has become a daughter to me, and now you’ve put her in Augusta’s debt. I ought to dig a hole and bury you in the ground, you stupid son-of-a-bitch!”

“Back the fuck off!” I tear his fingers from my suit and shove him. “I did what I thought was right and will not apologize for the deal I struck. You want to put me in the ground, old man? Go right afuckinghead! I dare you to try.”

When I climb into the car, I’m livid and tugging at my tie like I want to rip it off. What the hell just happened? But what’s done is done, and Sammy must get over it.

∆∆∆

As soon as I arrive at the mansion, I step into the entryway to find the new party planners rushing around orchestrating last-minute touches on decorations. Rows of vases as tall as me line the entry and form a path toward the glass-covered solarium. Between each tall vase is a cocktail table with white cloth and champagne flutes. Classical music plays overhead, and I don’t know where to go as I stand around like some idiot.

“Come with me,” Bernard says, laying his heavy hand on my shoulder.

“Christ! Is part of the job description being a ninja because all of you have a way of sneaking up on me.”

“Funny. Now follow me.”

He takes me up two flights of stairs to the atrium on Augusta’s floor, where the rest of her team is strapping on bulletproof vests. I swallow. Why do we need them? Is this typical for the Abramovitz annual gala? Others from the team inspect their weapons and slap clips into their guns or slide sharp tactical knives into slots on their vests. Bernard walks me to a table with what I’m assuming is my gear.

“Put all this on under your suit jacket,” he says.

“Do you guys always use all of this stuff?”

“We don’t always use it, but it’s handy, just in case.” 

“In case of what?” I pick up one of the sharp knives.

Bernard sighs and leans a hip against the table. “I’m going to be honest. You’re unqualified to be part of Augusta’s security team. The men in this room have military or law enforcement backgrounds. Whereas you’re a bouncer at a nightclub, but despite my objections, the boss wanted to hire you. I don’t trust you. Nor do I really like you. So put this stuff on and follow orders like a good boy. Do not mess this up.”

He grabs the bulletproof vest and shoves it into my chest before walking away. I’m not even mad. I know I’m underqualified, but I’m also not afraid of challenges. Or danger. Looking around the room, some of the men are mingling and sipping coffee like this is a day at the office instead of a silent war zone. I’m invisible to them, but tonight, I’ll prove I can carry my weight.

“Mind if I borrow this?” 

Snapping my gaze to the left, a woman with an ash blonde faux-hawk, wearing a bulletproof vest, holds out a roll of duct tape, her brow quirked. 

“No… go right ahead,” I say, and stick out my hand for her to shake. “Miguel Gomez.”

“Ah, so you’re the rookie with zero experience,” she laughs but shakes my hand. “Bishop.”

“Bishop?”

“Yep. Nobody calls me by my first name.” She stretches the duct tape, cuts a long piece with her teeth, and then smooths it over the side of her vest. “It stops the vest from chafing my arms.”

“I didn’t realize women were part of this team.”

“Is that a problem?” she laughs.

“No. I’ve just seen nothing but men so far.”

“Well, I’m not part of the team,” she says. “I’m Reina’s friend and here to look after her weapons.”

“Reina, the arms dealer who owns the prohibition-themed bar?” 

“That’s the one.”

“I didn’t know she had female friends. Or any friends. She comes across as a lone wolf.” 

Bishop laughs, “Yeah, she seems that way, but once you get to know her, you realize how hilarious and kind she is. We’ve been friends and associates for years.” 

“Associates? What do you do when you’re not looking after her weapons?”

Bishop grins and leans in. “Carry out hired hits.”

“You serious?”

“Maybe.” She sets the duct tape down. “Nice talking to you, Rookie.”

“Alright, listen up.” Bernard claps his hands, and everyone stops chit-chatting to focus on the big fella. “I know we’re not used to Augusta and Jocelyn having separate security teams, but remember that tonight, our job is to protect Augusta. It might be tempting to cater to Jocelyn, but she is not your boss tonight, and if I catch any of you deviating from your assignment, I will have the boss fire you. Now, who’s on guard duty for Mr. Abramovitz?”

Four men raise their hands, and Bernard nods while jotting it down on a small notepad before stuffing it into his inner breast pocket.

“The boss wants eyes on her father at all times. No one is allowed to go downstairs into his living quarters, got it?”

“You got it,” one of them says.

 The double doors to Augusta’s room open, causing our attention to swing her way as she waltzes out in a golden gown like an old Hollywood goddess, her blonde hair cascading over one shoulder in finger waves, her lips painted in red.

With hands clasped together, she says, “Tonight is a significant night, gentlemen. We have everyone from the Mayor to Emilio Suarez here, meaning anything can happen when these varied worlds collide. But the entire point of these galas is to mix and find common ground. There’s been… tension in the territory. So my hope is tonight, we can quell the sparks before they turn into flames. Where is Miguel?”

She searches the room, so I raise my hand. “I'm here.”

“Everyone…” She motions to me. “This is Miguel Gomez. Some of you have seen him around the property, and now he’s part of the team. He will also be my escort tonight.” She holds out her elbow for me. “Shall we he head down?”

“Yes, ma’am.” I cross over and let her link her arm through mine.

“Alright, boys, let’s get this show started,” Bernard says, and the four men designated to protect Mr. Abramovitz walk ahead of us while the rest follow close behind, and we proceed down the stairs like a parade.

When we get to the bottom, where guests are arriving, Jocelyn emerges from the solarium with her security team, and the invisible line in the sand becomes clear. If this were a Western movie, we would palpate our weapons to draw on each other when the clock strikes. Augusta breaks the ice by going to her sister and air-kisses her cheeks, then takes her hand and cuts through the security teams to get to their guests. 

It’s incredible how, at the snap of a finger, Augusta can turn herself on and play the part of big sister and hostess despite suspecting Jocelyn is a snake. Funny how Lucas did the same thing that night at Penthouse when I got my ass beat. He went from talking about the Sisters to snapping into bartender mode in the blink of an eye. I’m a few steps behind, so Augusta pauses and reaches for me. I catch up like a good little circus monkey and let her slip her arm through mine again.

She leans in with a whisper-scold, “You need to be like the Spanx I have under this dress. A second flesh. Got it? Do not leave my side.” 

“Alright, Augusta.”

“Yes, Ma’am,” she says through her teeth, then smiles at one of her guests and turns on the charm, thanking them for attending.

Is this how my life will be? Where I wear a facade while I’m on the job and then remove it when I’m off the clock?

How about Bernard? What is he like with his family?

Taking inventory of the faces surrounding us, I spot Lucas. Odd. The guy seems to be part of Jocelyn’s security team as he walks a few steps behind us, whispering with Kay. That giant meathead and I lock eyes. I bet he’s tickled to see my bruises and my broken arm in a cast. 

Lucas, on the other hand, gives me a nod, and he says to Jocelyn’s human dildo, “I’m going to go take my position.”

He breaks away from us and disappears through the arriving guests, but I lose him after he exits through the front. What did he mean by take his position, and for what? I should alert Augusta. So I go to whisper to her but catch Kay staring at me with a little smirk, biting the corner of his mouth.

“Tick, tock. Tick, tock,” he says.

“The fuck is that supposed to mean?” 

He leans in. “You look pretty with the outline of my knuckles painted on your face. Hearing your bones snap was delicious.”

“Kay,” Augusta says, her warm smile morphing into a frosty glare as she pivots from her guest. “You have a job to do, don’t you?”

“I do.”

“Then why are you bothering my escort?”

“Augusta!” Jocelyn says a little too hotly, her lips in a tight line. “Kay is part of my detail tonight, so you don't get to tell him what to do.”

"Yes, I do." Augusta turns to her little sister and adjusts Jocelyn’s glinting diamond necklace. The gesture makes Jocelyn appear like a child needing mommy to straighten her out. Perhaps it's precisely what Augusta intended. “I know what you’re up to.”

But before Jocelyn can respond, Augusta turns away to greet another guest. It's a beautiful dismissal and one that causes Jocelyn's face to grow tomato red with flared nostrils as she sucks in an offended breath. She cuts her gaze to Kay and grabs his elbow, tugging him toward the sitting room. 

“Augusta, should I... go after them?” I point in their direction.

But she’s not paying attention. Instead, she motions toward me with a huge smile. “George, please meet my escort for the night, Miguel Gomez. He’s part of my new detail and likely to become the most sought-after personal trainer in the Bay Area if I have anything to say about it. Miguel, please meet the Mayor, George Clemmens.”

“Pleasure to meet you, Sir.”

“Oh, just call me George. A friend of Augusta’s is a friend of mine.”

“Right.” I smile and shake his hand. 

So this is the man Rohan Reddy wants to replace in 2025. I feel sorry for him already. With Augusta strategically placing Rohan in Richie’s place, I get the feeling ol’ George will lose. 

And it’s as if the devil himself heard his name because in walks Rohan with his expensive PR man, Jerefuckingmiah.

I hate this asshole so much.