Page 40 of Shadow's Edge

I glanced around the room. Most of the women here were dressed like Kyle—tight dresses, killer heels, makeup applied like war paint. But some weren’t as lucky. Some were in nothing but lingerie,collars fastened around their necks, chains leading them like fucking dogs.

One of the men from the earlier fight—the Middle Eastern one—sat now with two women kneeling behind him, their heads bowed to the ground. Their backs were lined with fresh, raw stripes, the skin welted and broken.

A slow, boiling rage built in my gut, and I forced myself to look away.

I had a job to do.

Kyle must’ve noticed the tension in my shoulders because she leaned in. “Do you think he recognized me?” she murmured.

I studied her, the way she kept her expression light, unreadable, then I looked back toward where Cristóbal had disappeared. “I don’t know.”

Her small shrug did nothing to ease my worry.

For the next hour, we worked the room, meeting people, exchanging pleasantries, forcing conversation with the worst kind of filth. They spoke freely,toofreely, as if they believed they were untouchable. They bragged about their operations, their money, their influence. I hoped like hell Duke and the others were getting this, because I didn’t know if I could do this again.

Then, finally, after what felt like ten hours, Kyle gave the signal that we could leave. I exhaled slowly, preparing to get the hell out of this place, but before we could take a step, Cristóbal reappeared, this time with the Middle Eastern man from earlier.

“Ah, Aaron and Daisy,” Cristóbal greeted, that false charm sliding easily back into place. “This is Arshad Fathizadeh. Arshad, this is Aaron Jones and Daisy…” He paused, a smirk playing at his lips. “I don’t believe I got your last name, sweet Daisy.”

Something about the way he said it, the way his gazelingered,sent every alarm bell ringing.

Kyle didn’t miss a beat. “Trent,” she answered smoothly, extending a hand toward Fathizadeh. “Mr. Fathizadeh.” Her voice was softer now, breathy, almost purring.

Cristóbal’s eyes didn’t leave her, and I forced myself to stay still as the bastardreached out and tucked a strand of hair over her shoulder. The moment his fingers brushed her skin, my entire body tensed. He must’ve noticed, because his eyes flicked to me, amusement dancing in them.

Fathizadeh took Kyle’s hand—but he didn’t let go.

“We were actually just leaving,” I interrupted smoothly, stepping in and sliding an arm around Kyle’s waist. “Daisy had a few…ideas.” I let the word drip with implication, smirking. “So, we must sadly leave early.”

Cristóbal stayed where he was, too close, his eyes still locked on Kyle.

Fathizadeh chuckled. “Yes, one cannot pass up suggestions from a woman as beautiful as Ms. Trent.”

His eyeslingered,this time deliberately. First on her chest, then lower. I bit down so hard my jaw ached.

Kyle, ever the professional, only smiled. “It was a pleasure meeting you both tonight,” she purred, tilting her head. “I do hope we see each other again.”

Fathizadeh’s expression shifted, his gaze darkening with interest.

I tightened my grip on Kyle, and then, finally, we turned and started to walk away. I didn’t relax until we were out of that room, and even then, something told me this wasn’t over.

Not even close.

“Mm, yes, sweet Daisy. It has been a pleasure meeting you both, and I have no doubt we will meet again very soon.”

Cristóbal’s voice was smooth as he spoke to our backs, almost lazy, but there was something underneath it now. Something sharper, darker, and it sent a new wave of tension crawling up my spine.

Then he turned his gaze on me.“Aaron, make sure you keep her close.”

This time, there was no mistaking it—a threat, laced with something menacing, something possessive. His eyes burned with something I didn’t fucking like, and my fingers twitched with the urge to break his fucking jaw.

Instead, I gave him a slow, measured nod, took Kyle’s hand, and guided her away, each step controlled despite the violent energy flooding my veins.

As we moved through the parking lot, I kept my grip on Kyle, keeping her close, my senses on high alert. The people milling around acted casual, but I wasn’t stupid enough to believe it. Every instinct told me we were being watched.

When we reached the car without interference, I exhaled, my body itching to get the hell out of there. My fingers reached for the handle, but Kyle’s hand shot out, stopping me as she tapped her necklace.

Fuck.

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