"Fuck, fuck, fuck," I muttered, wrenching myself free from the man who’d been pressing too close behind me, the sharp clarity of sobriety crashing over me like ice water.
I surged toward Claudia, yanking the stranger off her. The last of her cocktail splattered across her dress, dark liquid soaking the fabric.
"What the hell?" she shouted, frantic hands swiping at the stain as I grabbed her arm, urgency propelling me.
"We have to get out—now," I urged, dragging her away from the pulsating chaos of the dance floor.
"No way, I’m not done yet!" she snapped, stumbling slightly but resisting.
"Claudia, listen to me," I said, my voice sharp. "The Italians are here. This isn't safe anymore. We leave. Now." My grip tightened, my patience fraying.
"That’s your and dad’s mess, not mine," she whined, planting her feet stubbornly. "You can bail, but I’m staying."
Anger boiled inside me—she was drunk, reckless, and I couldn’t afford to lose her here. Without another word, I yanked her toward the exit, her protests trailing behind us like a fading echo as we burst out into the cool night.
"Aliyah, you’re such a fucking bitch!" she hissed, staggering as I scanned our grimy refuge of an alley for any sign of movement.
"Well, well, well," a voice whispered behind us, dripping with malice. "Look who’s out here."
I clenched my jaw, forcing a deep breath to steady my nerves. My eyes squeezed shut for a moment before I spun around, fingers instantly finding my gun at my thigh.
He stood there, smirking like a cat with a mouse in sight, the glint of a pistol dangling loosely from his hand. His dark eyes gleamed with cruel amusement.
"What the fuck do you want, Kye?" I snapped, finger tightening on the trigger.
"Just came by to say hello," he drawled, voice dripping with false warmth. "You know, like old times."
"Fuck you," I spat back, venom thick in my tone.
Before I could react further, Claudia wobbled forward, oblivious to the danger, hips swaying as she approached him. "Aliyah, who’s this handsome guy?" she giggled, voice slurred.
Kye’s expression darkened, disgust flashing across his features before he masked it with a predatory grin.
I rolled my eyes hard as Claudia leaned in, whispering something that made Kye chuckle low and sinister, a smirk playing on his lips.
"Enough," I barked, yanking Claudia back with firm hands. "We’ve got nothing to do with you. Now, we’re leaving."
"Not so fast," Kye said, stepping closer, voice dangerously low. "You’re on my turf. My club. No one just walks out."
"Bullshit," I shot back. "You come to my places all the time. We’re leaving, with or without you."
The moment I took a step forward, his hand shot out, grabbing my shoulder and yanking me back hard. The cold barrel of his gun pressed into my temple.
"Your father and I have an understanding," he murmured fiercely into my ear. "You’re not going anywhere tonight."
A soft giggle came from behind him; Claudia was slumped against me, swaying with a hiccup, barely able to keep steady.
"Let me go," I snarled, wrenching against his iron grip.
His fingers traced a cruel path along the slit of my dress, warm and invasive against my skin.
"How’s it feel, playing the little whore?" he taunted, cold eyes boring into mine. "Letting any man grope you in the dark? I never pegged you for such a slut."
That was the breaking point. With every ounce of strength, I drove my elbow into his chest, the impact loosening his grasp.
I pivoted, stomping hard into his groin. He doubled over with a strangled groan, clutching himself as he knelt on the grimy pavement.
Without hesitation, I scooped up Claudia, her giggles turning to muffled sobs as I dragged her away from the alley's suffocating shadows.
We stumbled across the street, heartbeats loud in my ears, adrenaline igniting a fierce protective fire within me.
"This isn’t over, Perez!" Kye’s voice echoed behind us, venomous and unyielding. "We’re far from finished."
I didn’t look back. Not tonight. Not ever.