Lazaro’s POV
I couldn’t get her out of my damn head. The way she sounded when I touched her, the breathy moans, the way her back arched under my mouth like she’d forgotten her own name.
She clawed at me like she needed saving, like I was the answer to every goddamn question she didn’t dare ask. And now, days later, I was the one drowning in it. Couldn’t sleep, couldn’t focus, couldn’t think straight.
The damned woman left a storm behind, and I walked straight into it with open arms. I kept my distance. Skipped the floor she worked on, made excuses to keep Kendall close just so I wouldn’t have to see her. I figured if I didn’t feed the fire, maybe it’d die out on its own. It didn’t.
I still caught myself waiting for her knock. Still paused outside my office door, listening for her voice. Still pictured her in that damn dress from the ball, how I want to rip that beautiful dress on her. I was losing control, and I hated it.
“Fire her,” Kendall said, snapping me out of my spiral. She stood by the window of my office, arms crossed, her mouth set in that familiar no-bullshit line.
I turned in my chair slowly. “You come in here just to boss me around?”
She didn’t flinch. “I’m telling you what you won’t say out loud. She’s a problem.”
“Marina?” I asked, keeping my tone even.
“She’s slick. Smiles like she means it, but she’s watching everything. You know it. I know it.” I stared at her a beat longer, then rose and walked to the bar cart. Poured myself two fingers of bourbon, the good stuff, swirled the glass once before taking a slow sip.
“She ain’t like the others,” I muttered.
Kendall turned. “Exactly. That’s the problem.”
I chuckled under my breath, low and bitter. “You sound jealous.”
“I sound smart.” She stepped forward, eyes sharp. “She got under your skin, and now you’re blind. Same thing happened with Isabella. You let her in, and she nearly put you in the ground.” I stiffened. The name hit like a bullet to the ribs. Isabella. The ex who’d worn innocence like perfume, only to sell me out to the feds.
“You don’t get to say her name,” I said, voice low and dangerous.
Kendall didn’t back down. “Then stop making the same damn mistake.”
I drained the rest of the bourbon and set the glass down hard. My jaw clenched. “She’s got secrets,” I admitted. “I can feel it.”
“Then why is she still breathing, Laz?”
I looked out the window, the skyline bleeding into dusk. The city always looked cleaner from this high up, like all the dirt couldn’t reach us. But I knew better. I was born in that dirt. Crawled through it. Built my kingdom on it.
“She’s not just some pretty face,” I said. “She moves like she’s trained. She lies like she’s done it before.”
Kendall stepped closer. “Then what are we waiting for?”
I turned to her, my voice ice. “Dig into her. I want everything. Full background, real name, history, and enemies. Who she answers to, if anyone. Quietly.”
Kendall’s eyes flicked with something unreadable. “You think she’s a plant?”
“I think,” I said, walking back to my desk, “that I let someone into my house without knowing who the hell they really are. That’s on me.”
Kendall hesitated. “And if what we find… confirms it?”
My hands curled around the edge of the desk, knuckles white. “Then she’s just like the rest,” I said flatly. “And I’ll deal with her the way I always do.”
Kill them.