She slid off the safety then raised the gun with one hand while reaching to yank the tape off her mouth with the other.

“Seems like we have a lot to talk about,” she said, giving me a hard look before rushing back toward the stage as Alen clutched his hand to his chest, the blood soaking through his shirt.

“You have no idea how badly you just fucked up,” she said, kicking him so hard behind the knee that despite his size advantage, he went down on his knee.

I was still trying to wrap my head around the swiftness of her action, how confident she’d been with the knife and now the gun.

But then the damn door burst open.

And several men rushed inside.

“Saff!” a voice called.

“Right here, Renz,” she called back.

“You alright?” another voice asked. It took a second to realize he was speaking to me.

Turning, I saw Bastian.

With a gun in his hand.

My gaze shot around, seeing Saff’s driver—and camera installer—making his way toward the stage.

“Alen Hakobyan, you piece of shit,” the man Saff had called Renz said, shaking his head. “The fuck you doing in my neck of the woods, huh?”

“Renzo, no, no. It’s not like that. This is personal.”

“Renz, how the hell are you here right now?” Saff asked, brows pinched as the man came across the stage on the other side of Alen.

“I got a call.”

“Fucking Cormac,” Saff grumbled.

“Cormac Gallagher?” Renzo asked, head cocked to the side. “Why would he call me?”

“Ugh, great,” Saff said, sighing.

What the hell was going on here?

Who was Renzo?

Why did Saff’s employees have guns?

Who was Cormac Gallagher?

“No, I got a call from one of Elian’s cousins,” Renzo said.

“Elian’s cousin who?” I asked.

Renzo’s gaze moved in my direction.

But, no.

He wasn’t looking at me.

He was looking behind me.

It was right then that I heard the click of heels.

My stomach tightened.

Because I knew that sound. I knew that walk.

I’d been hearing it daily for years.

I half-turned to find Teresa walking up beside me.

“Hey, Renzo,” she called, lifting a hand to wave at the man on the stage with Saff and Alen.

“What the fuck is going on here?” I asked, head spinning.

“Yeah,” Renzo said, looking at me, then giving Saff a hard look. “That’s a good fucking question.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Saff

I knew I’d fucked up five feet inside the door of the club.

I heard the shuffle of feet on the floor just a second before two arms grabbed me. One closed over my mouth. The other clamped hard around my midsection, crushing hard enough to steal my breath as he lifted me up off my feet.