Page 61 of Bloodlust

"You're going to hurt yourself," Zoey notes, approaching the desk. "Don't do that."

I roll my eyes. "What do you want, Zoe? I'm busy."

She glances down at the stack of documents on my desk, her gaze landing on my pros and cons list for Alba's offer. I cringe internally. My family's legacy is on the line, and I'm making a damn chart. Fuck’s sake.

"Which side's winning?" she asks.

"Neither." I grab the paper from my desk and bunch it up before tossing it in the trash. "Both options are fucked."

"Okay, well..." Zoey hums, twisting her lips nervously. "There are a few people here you might want to gocheck on."

I glare at the door. "Who?"

"I think…" She pauses, fiddling with her iPad. "I think they're with The Dragons."

"What?" I blink as she rotates the screen, showing me a street capture of a slim, fierce-faced Asian woman smoking outside a known Dragon’s hangout.

"I'm still building my database, but this image popped up when I ran the faces at table five," Zoey explains. I frown. Database? She sighs, apparently mad. "It's the new program I told you about, remember?" I stay silent, and she huffs. "Anyway, when they walked in I saw a dragon tattoo on her neck and figured better safe than sorry."

"They're here?" I grab the iPad from her hand and zoom into the image. "At my club?"

Zoey nods, biting her lip. "Yeah."

"The Dragons are either idiots or have a death wish," I say, memorizing the woman's face. "They know not to cross the border." I tap the screen, anxiety bubbling in my throat. "This isn't good, Zoe. This is blatant disrespect." I look at her. "They want a war."

"Maybe," Zoey whispers. "Or maybe they just want to talk? After all, they're on our turf now. They know they're outnumbered."

"Talk about what?" I ask, flicking my nails. "The last time The Dragons and The Angels had a parley was fifteen years ago, and seventeen people died. Doesn't seem like talking is either of our strong suits."

"Only one way to find out," Zoey says with a cheeky smile, pointing to the door. "Go and introduce yourself."

"I don't need an introduction," I scoff, heading toward the door. I clench my fist, my skin still burning from the flame. "They know who I am."

"Do you want me to come?" Zoey asks, following me out of the office and into the roaring club. She smiles at Frankie who's posted outside my door. His alerted eyes widen as his body tenses, but I hold up my hand, standing him down. "Well?"

"No," I say, scanning the three women sitting at table five. They've all got drinks in their hands. Seemingly harmless based on their careless laughing. Too soon to tell. I spot Leo near the bar and call him over. It's like he lives here these days. "Watch her."

Leo perks up a brow, following my hardened gaze. "Who are they?"

"We'll find out," I say. Before I can take a step, Leo grabs my arm, concern plastered over his darkened features. "Let go of me."

"Who are they?" Leo asks in a stern tone. "Should I be concerned?"

"If you don't let go on my arm," I say through my teeth, "I will get Frankie to twist your balls so fucking hard, they'll snap like a fucking pinata."

"Okay, then. I hear you loud and clear." Leo blinks, slowly releasing me from his grip. He glances at a passive Frankie. "You'd really do that to me, Franks?"

Frankie shrugs, giving a concealed grin. "Whatever she says."

I smirk at Leo. "Stay with Zoey, understood?"

"Whatever you say," Leo jeers, scowling as he looksdown at Zoey. "She should start paying me to babysit you."

"Fuck you," Zoey huffs, storming back into my office. Leo groans, chasing after his sister.

"Fucking children," I mutter to myself as I make my way up the stairs to the balcony level of the club. My presence is greeted by nods of respect from familiar faces of allies and patrons. Even the newbies tip their metaphorical hats. I relax my clenched fist as I approach table five. "Ladies."

The conversation between the three women stops immediately and the girl from the photo whips her head toward me, a reserved but friendly smile on her face.

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