Page 8 of Brick's Retribution

Outside, my Harley has been serviced and refueled by Compass, formerly known as Sam.

Since I’ve been gone, he’s somehow become the club’s mechanic.

I secure my bags, check my weapons one last time, and swing my leg over the seat.

The engine roars to life beneath me, the vibration traveling up through my body like a familiar heartbeat.

Amara appears at the clubhouse door, arms crossed, watching.

She gives me a single nod—part blessing, part warning.

I return it, then pull on my helmet and ease the bike toward the compound gates.

The desert stretches before me, endless and unforgiving.

Somewhere out there, Lashes is waiting to be found, and right now, a cartel princess needs my protection.

I twist the throttle and head east, toward El Paso.

Toward my assignment.

Toward a woman who, according to Amara, is complicated and dangerous and somehow important enough to pull me away from the only thing that has mattered to me for months.

She better be fucking worth it.

CHAPTER ONE

Imani

The barrel of the gun feels cold against my palm as I slide it into the holster at the small of my back.

It’s a familiar weight, a necessary evil.

The mirror reflects a woman I sometimes barely recognize—designer clothes and perfect makeup concealing the warrior beneath.

Harvard Business School never prepared me for this part of the family business.

My El Paso penthouse gleams with early morning sunlight, floor-to-ceiling windows offering a panoramic view of the city and the mountains beyond.

It’s been three days since someone tried to put a bullet in my skull, so basically three days of being trapped in this cage while my father's men "investigate."

My patience is wearing thinner by the hour, and I’m going to completely lose it soon. That’s the Latina blood that runs through my veins, the fire, as my mother called it when I was a little girl.

My phone buzzes on the marble countertop.

My father's name flashes on the screen, and I consider ignoring it.

Let him worry. Let him wonder if his precious heir has finally had enough of being treated like a chess piece rather than a daughter.

But he would only call again. And again. The brutal Mateo Torres doesn't accept being ignored.

"Yes,Papi?" I answer, my voice deliberately cool.

"The arrangements are final," he says, not bothering with small talk.

No,how are you. No,I'm sorry someone tried to kill you. Just business, as always.

"You leave today."

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