Chapter 21 I hadn't seen him in five days. Not since he'd dropped me off from the airport. Not a call. Not a text. Not even a fucking "you alive?" to let me know I hadn't hallucinated the entire trip to New York.Five days ago, Raziel introduced me to his father.Not as "some girl," not as "nobody," but with his hand resting low on my back like he was afraid I'd vanish. Then he vanished again. But when I thought about it, he hadn't really introduced me with a title. I had so many questions. I wondered if he knew his father had given me his phone number and told me to call him if I needed anything. I wondered what that meant. I touched the black diamond pendant on my neck. He'd given it to me later that same night. He hadn't told me why or said any sweet words, just clasped it around my neck.My pride wouldn't let me call or text him first, though. I had already taken so many steps toward him; he was going to have to make an effort. I didn't like the way he treated his stepmother, but I could tell she loved him. I stayed out of that. I knew how messy parental issues could be. The next day, he took me shopping on Fifth Avenue. Let me drag him into stores he'd never set foot in alone, watched with amused patience as I held up silk dresses to my body. "You want it?" he'd asked every time, already reaching for his wallet. I'd rolled my eyes, but my chest had gone warm.That night, in the hotel, he'd kissed my forehead before he left me to sleep. Just a brush of his lips, so soft I almost thought I imagined it.And then-nothing.Radio silence. So when Carla texted me-"Babysitter secured. Drinks, non-alcoholic tonight or I'm disowning you."-then she texted me the address. It was Raziel's club. My heart sped up. Would he be there? I said yes before I could overthink it. I wasn't going to his club to find him. Not for him, I told myself. For me.I was going because I needed to remember how to breathe without waiting for my phone to light up with his name. I pulled on yellow. Soft buttercup. The color made my skin glow like honey under the right light. The dress clung to me, off-the-shoulder, long-sleeved, hugging every dip and curve like it was sewn with my body in mind. My curls framed my face, gloss slicked my lips, and I dabbed perfume behind my knees-just in case they ended up in the air later. Carla whistled when I opened the door. "Damn, who's the lucky victim?""Nobody," I said, and linked my arm through hers. Carla wasn't just my sponsor; she was my blueprint. Twenty years older than me and twenty-five years sober, dark-skinned with a wild afro that seemed to pulse like it was alive. She could walk into anywhere, brush off the drinks, and it wouldn't even bother her. I wanted her strength tucked under my own skin one day. It helped that she was actually a therapist with a PhD. She was married to Milo, a lawyer who loved her like she was sugar. The club was full and throbbing when we got there, bass vibrating up through the soles of my heels. Carla dragged me to the bar, ordered Pepsis. I was proud of myself when I didn't even look around for Raziel. But then-She dragged me up to the VIP section she'd reserved for us.Of course he was there. Raziel lounged in the center of the booth like a king holding court, surrounded by men in tailored suits and women in dresses that cost more than my rent. A cigar dangled from his fingers, smoke curling around his jaw. He looked good. Fresh cut, Cuban link against his throat and on his wrist, shirt unbuttoned just enough to show the edge of his tattoo.My stomach flipped. "Go say hi," Carla urged, nudging me. I had told her about him."Nah," I said, too quickly."Maya." She gave me a look. "You said you've been staring at your phone for five days. Go say something, or at the very least, stunt on him in this dress you're wearing." I hesitated. Then smoothed my dress and walked toward him.Of course, the men surrounding him noticed me first.The laughter died down as I approached, replaced by low murmurs and elbows nudging ribs. Some of them knew of my history, and before rehab, about the drugs. Nobody dared talk about the old me. Nobody would remind me of who I used to be. Not when it could get back to Priest. He had warned everyone, and with him, consequences weren't whispered about-they were experiences that left scars. Raziel didn't look up, but I knew he knew I was there. In that moment, I should have walked away and held on to some of my dignity. He took a slow sip of his drink, ice clinking. I stopped at the edge of the booth.Silence.Five seconds. Ten. Finally, he held out his empty glass."Get me another drink, waitress."His tone was flat. Cold.The booth erupted in laughter. I stood there.Then I took the glass.Picked up the bottle of Rémy Martin Louis XIII Cognac.I shoved it in his direction, the liquid sloshing over the rim, onto his pants."Oops," I said, sweet as poison. For half a second, his jaw tightened. Then he waved me off like a fly. "Dismissed."Oh no, this motherfucker didn't. I oughta-I stopped myself mid-thought and looked around, at where we were. Maybe he was embarrassed by me. Maybe he didn't want these men running back to his fiancée and telling her about me. She had directed him to stay away from me. Me and my sister were bad news, husband-stealing. Maybe he thought pushing me off was protecting me somehow. I told myself all of that, over and over.But none of it stopped the sting. I turned and walked away, shoulders straight, heels steady. I made eye contact with Carla. She had seen the entire thing; she had a look that screamed apologies for encouraging me on her face. She took a step in my direction. I shook my head, waving her off. I made it to the bathroom. I locked myself in the stall, pressed my forehead to the cool metal door.Idiot.I didn't sob. Didn't scream. Just sat there, letting hot tears streak my mascara.I unclasped the chain around my neck; it suddenly felt like a collar.Let it dangle from my fingers for a heartbeat.Then dropped it into the toilet. My phone buzzed.Matteo: You up?I stared at the name. Raziel's fiancée's cousin. The one who had been asking me out every other day. The one Raziel had warned me about. I typed back:Me: Come get me.Matteo: Where you at?I gave him an address. Longer than I liked went by before he responded.Matteo: Bet. Be there in an hour. I wiped my face, fixed my lipstick, and walked back out.Carla was waiting outside the bathroom with concern written all over her pretty face."I'm sorry I told you to go. You okay?" she asked.I cut her off with a smile I didn't feel. "I just wanna dance," I yelled over the bass. Before she could say more, I snatched her hand and dragged her into the crowd. I moved like I had something to prove. Carla laughed, keeping up, but I spun off quick, letting the beat carry me. One song bled into another.I danced with three men. The first one slid in before the song even switched, tall with a fat chain around his neck that bounced off his chest. He was too dark to make out most of his facial features, but he was huge and had nice lips. His hand stayed heavy at my hip, trying to guide me. I let him. Bent at the waist a little lower than I needed to, felt his breath hit my neck when he laughed. He thought I was dancing for him. It wasn't. The second smelled like too much cologne; it hung in the back of my throat the entire time we danced. Sucia by Kehlani came on. I sang along. When you touch me, we feel soAmazing and extra particularWe cosplay our charactersEcstasies, savages for youI'm still comin' My dance partner spun me sloppy, almost tripped, and I still threw it back on beat just to make him grin. I was snatched away from him by a third. He didn't bother asking. He stepped right up, both hands finding my waist like I belonged there. He was rougher, bolder, grinding against me hard, making sure I knew exactly where his mind was while the bass shook the floor. I matched him, one hand sliding up his chest, the other tugging at Carla's wrist to pull her closer so it looked like a whole damn party around me. The beat pounded, sweat slicked my skin, and for a while, I drowned in it. I felt Raziel's gaze like a brand between my shoulder blades the entire time. Then my phone buzzed again.Matteo: I'm outside. I slipped my phone back into my clutch, leaned into Carla's ear."Gotta go," I said, and pressed a kiss to her cheek.She caught my wrist. "Maya-"I shook her off with a smile sharp enough to cut. "I'm going to get high. I'm okay. Later." Matteo was in a Maserati idling at the curb. He leaned against it, in a polo and jeans, arms crossed over his chest. "Damn," he whistled."Let's go get something to eat, handsome," I said, then glanced up at the security camera above the door.Smiled. Matteo opened the car door for me. I slid into the car, and he shut the door.I knew Raziel would watch the footage.He would be pissed.I giggled to myself.Let him choke on it. Five-year-old Annie, who can understand animals, saved Landon Hawthorne, a wealthy businessman, from suicide. Now she's his whole world and he's her legal cheat-code against every villain fate throws ...