Duke’s friend was getting it on with Duke’s ex-girlfriend. In a bathroom, like teenagers at a warehouse rave. What if it had been Kinley who’d walked in? Maybe it was a good thing the hostess was coked up.

I’m out. I am out.

In the entry hall, money-bought beauty dripped down the gilded walls. Angel searched for old Steven so she could get her stuff and leave this ugliness behind.

“Sir, I’m sorry to bother you again, would you mind getting my wrap and phone? I’m leaving.”

“Yes, miss. Would you like me to call you a car?”

She nodded gratefully.

“And you, sir? Am I retrieving your jacket, as well?” The butler addressed someone over her shoulder.

“Jacket? No … Angel, what are you doing?” Duke swayed once and then caught himself on the wall beside her. “Are you going?”

“Yes—”

A yowl broke them apart. “How dare you?” It was Regina, her black flapper dress back in place, beads swinging with her furious strides. “You little whore!”

“Excuse me?” Angel could not have been more shocked if zombies had dropped through the ceiling and started eating people.

Regina raised her hand, slicing the air before Angel realized what was happening. The model’s paper-thin palm made solid contact with Angel’s cheekbone, the slap ringing off the marble floors and rocking her head back.

“You mad? Your dead ass goin’ down!” Angel lunged for Regina, intent on breaking her in half. Duke clumsily pushed Angel away, however, before she could make full body contact with his ex-girlfriend.

She was able to scrape her nail’s down Regina’s arm. She dug in savagely.

Regina screamed as if Angel had stabbed her. If only, Angel thought.

“Stop this! Stop this right now!” Kinley rushed up to them, glassy-eyed and wobbly.

Duke held Angel back while Regina cowered behind Kinley, as if she was the victim.

The hostess, slurring and confused, asked, “What’s going on?”

Angel considered biting Duke’s arm, to get him to let her go. “She was—”

“I just caught Angel fucking Roland in the bathroom!” Regina screamed, sobbing and holding her arm as if it was broken.

Angel stopped struggling against Duke. “What? What did you say? Are you crazy?”

Kinley squinted her eyes at Angel, pain blooming in waves across her face. “How could you?”

“That is not what happened! Regina—”

“Duke, take away your piece of trash!” The model’s voice was shrill, hurting Angel’s head more than the slap.

He grabbed her harder, physically moving her farther away from Regina, treating her as a rag doll.

A circle of partygoers crowded around the door, watching the action.

“Where’s Roland?” Kinley asked, her skin mottled with distress. She focused her bloodshot eyes on Angel. “I think you better go.”