They stopped, as they would, considering six months ago, the Sebring brothers had secretly purchased the club. To keep it on the down low, both were silent partners. The old owners still ran it with the only change being that they didn’t pay Benito Valenzuela protection money. Knight and Nick were perfectly capable of protecting the club.

Valenzuela backed off without a fight considering he had recently drawn Knight’s attention and not in a good way. He was smart enough, in his current war with Chaos and the moves Georgia Shade was making, not to court a new enemy.

But as it served Nick’s purpose, the staff of the club now knew he was their boss.

Therefore, unimpeded, he pulled his employee into the back room and through it to the door at the rear.

“Nick, you’re holding me too tight,” she whined, twisting her arm against his hold.

He wasn’t. His hold was not tender but it wasn’t causing pain.

He knew how to cause pain in a variety of ways.

Deacon Gates had taught him.

He also knew how to contain someone and not to cause pain.

Hettie and Turner had taught him that.

Her fear at his actions and the fact she’d fucked up and was freaked was causing her pain.

He yanked her to his side as he hit the code into the keypad. He heard the latch unlock and pushed the door open.

He looked to the man inside watching a bank of twelve monitors with visuals that shifted every five seconds. Visuals that fed from the thirty cameras throughout the club.

The man took one look at Nick’s face and immediately lifted his hands, not at all happy he’d watched his boss fucking a woman considering that boss was right there, clearly about to get in his shit about it.

“She said—” he began.

“Delete it,” Nick ordered.

The man instantly turned to the monitors. One cleared then showed the now empty social chamber.

Within five seconds, it blanked.

Without another word, Nick dragged the girl out of the monitoring room and closed the door.

“You’re done,” he told her. “Pack your shit. Out.”

Her eyes got big.

“You’re firing me?” she asked.

Fuck, he hated stupid bitches.

He’d smelled that on her the minute he met her. It concerned him, not only for the purpose he bought the place—to get access to Olivia Shade—but because he owned the fucking place and no employer wanted a stupid bitch for an employee.

But she was liked by the old owners.

What she pulled, that no longer factored.

“Yes,” he answered, letting her go. “Get your shit and out.”

“But we—” she began.

“There is no we,” he told her.

Her head twitched in shock.

Yeah. He hated stupid bitches.

“But you took me to dinner,” she whispered. “And then we—”