“That would be Brittney, the woman I told you about,” I answer and pull her tighter against my side. Switching my focus back to my brothers, I quirk a brow at the smirk on their faces. “What?”
“Nothing. Malcolm called and said he was on his way here with Brittney. I wasn’t about to miss the show. Not when she’s been causing so much drama and shit.” Félix shrugs, grinning as he darts his gaze between Cora and me.
“I was just on my way to handle some business when he pulled in.” Tristan snickers, taking a seat on one of the stools.
“Whatever,” I grunt and focus on Malcolm. “What’s going on?” I nod to where the other guys are holding a struggling Brittney.
“You asked me the other day to look into the marriage and all that fun stuff. Well, after the boys reported Brittney going into that smack house, I not only started looking into the marriage, but I looked further into Little Miss Brittney over here.”
“And?” I urge him to get to the point.
“SeemsBrittneyused to be one of the girls who worked in one of Delano’s brothels,” Malcolm states. “She knew who you were in Vegas when she saw you. Paid someone to slip a roofie into your drink and got one of her johns to fake the marriage. The whole ordeal is a setup. A fucking shitshow, bro.”
My vision narrows on the bitch in question, and I’m beyond livid right now. If I were a man who killed women, she’d be dead as fuck right now.
“You bitch,” Cora snaps, and before I can stop her, she’s across the room slapping Brittney. “What’s with women like you thinking it’s okay to con her way somewhere she’s not wanted? Or todruga man? What thefuck?”
Oh, shit.
Cora ispissed.
“Cora,” I call, but she doesn’t listen to me. Instead, she rips the tape off Brittney’s mouth, making her scream in pain.
“Answerme,” she demands, slapping her across the cheek again.
“You bitch. I’m going to get you for that and for fuckin’ my man,” Brittney snarls, spitting at her feet.
“Yourman. I don’t think so. You’re nothing but a skanky-ass whore looking for someone to put your ass up,” Cora snaps, getting in Brittney’s face.
Brittney rips away from the men holding her back and launches herself at Cora. Only she ends up flat on her back with Cora straddling Brittney’s waist, pummeling her.
I give Cora a moment to have her fun. But I can’t let her hurt herself. She’ll be pissed if she hurts her hands.
“Rémy, you gonna stop that?” Félix nods, but I grin as I move toward Cora. Bending, I scoop her up, wrapping an arm around her waist and holding her against my front. “Easy, baby,” I murmur into her ear, calming her down. Looking at my brothers, I jerk my chin to a sobbing Brittney. “Can you handle this while I make sure Cora hasn’t injured her hands?”
“You got it.” Tristan chuckles. “I’ll make sure she’s handled.” I know what that means. He’ll take Brittney somewhere and call Sabine. The woman has no problem pulling a trigger when she needs to.
Nodding, I reposition Cora and swing her into my arms, carrying her bridal style up to the second floor. It’s time she saw the VIP room.
Plus, I want to show her how hot she’s made me, coming to my defense the way she did just then.