Chapter 4 Three months later. I was in VIP, legs crossed, glass in hand, sitting on some rapper's lap. He was fine-tall, dark skin, gold grills on the top and bottom. Waves for days. His name was something like Ten Chains or some shit. He was visiting Tampa from Miami.I met him outside the club-he pulled me out of the line to walk in with him.I liked free shit, so I followed. Out of nowhere, he grabbed a fistful of my short hair, forcing me to look over my shoulder at him."This my song," he said. I tuned in. The bass was thick enough to make my ribs vibrate. He was rapping about some light-skinned girl with a big ass. "Dance for me," he said, lifting his phone to film. "This about to blow up on Insta. You'll be famous." I didn't give a fuck about social media, but I smirked and stood. Looked over my shoulder, rolled my hips to the beat, bounced my ass, let the lace of my dress ride up just enough to sit below my cheeks.Dragged my fingertips over my breasts. Being drug-free had done my body good. I'd gained most of my weight back, toned up. Thighs thicker. Ass rounder, fatter. The lace hugged it all.My ass was moving like it had a mind of its own. He groaned behind me. "Shit. That's what I'm talking about." He grabbed a handful of ass.I laughed. I turned my head to eye him.He threw his hands up. "I ain't do it on purpose." I laughed again, even though he was starting to irk me but the attention was a good distraction. He was getting all worked up, and I was about thirty minutes from going home and crawling into bed.I only came out because I needed something to do on a Saturday night besides lying in bed thinking about getting high. Fucking with him, I kept going.Turned around.His eyes were low, stuck on my curves.I stepped between his knees, planted one foot on the booth beside him, leaning forward just enough for my cleavage to spill over my top.He licked his lips like he was starving. I danced in place, grinding my hips just out of his reach.His hands hovered-then landed.A hard smack.I grinned and leaned in close like I was about to whisper something nasty in his ear. The camera was still rolling. The rapper tapped my arm, frowning. "Jit, you know him?" He pointed. I looked over my shoulder.And there he was.Raziel. Leaning against the wall just behind the red velvet rope that marked the VIP entrance, watching me. His face was cold.I felt a shift in the room-a drop in temperature. My heart sped up.I'd been trying not to think about him.He told me to leave him alone, and I was doing just that. I wasn't about to beg one man to fuck with me when there were so many others in the world. He didn't even seem like the club type.What was he doing here? Was he looking for me?I shook my head.Impossible. I sat back on the rapper's lap.His hand looped around my waist.I watched Raziel walk-no, swagger-across the room in silence. "I need to talk to you," he said, staring me dead in the face. The rapper scoffed, fooled by the expensive suit. "Nah, we busy." His boys laughed, hyping him up-Until Raziel pressed steel to his forehead. The laughter died instantly. I slid off the rapper's lap before things could escalate."Chill, Ra." Raziel tilted his head. "You protecting him?" I grinned. "No. He ain't worth me protecting or you shooting. I met him an hour ago. Just having some fun." Raziel holstered his gun, snatched my wrist.Nobody stopped us as he dragged me to the elevator. He shoved me in, stepped inside, turned a key, and pressed a hidden button.The elevator moved. The office he took me to was small and cramped, filled with a desk and overflowing file cabinets. He lifted me onto the desk."You know I own this club?" I shrugged. "No. I wouldn't have come here. I've been avoiding you." "Why?" "You told me to." His eyes narrowed. The muscle in his cheek ticked-like he hated being reminded of his own words.He looked terrifying.Mad. I leaned in, pressed my lips to his-soft at first, testing.He didn't move.So I did it again.Lingering this time.His breath hitched. "Don't be mad," I whispered against his mouth. He leaned back, wiped his lips-but his eyes never left mine."I don't know where your mouth's been." "Childish." I laughed in his face.Kissed him again. Slower. This time, he let me.His hands came up, fingers tangling in the little bit of hair I had, pulling me closer.His tongue slid against mine.I melted into it.Moaned.Just a little.Just enough to make him deepen it. His grip tightened, dragging me to the edge of the desk.His hands slid under my dress, greedy. I pulled back. "I'm on my period." He scoffed, nipped at my bottom lip like he didn't believe me. I grabbed his hand and shoved it down my panties. He pulled it back with blood on his fingers. Looked at them like he didn't care.Like he wanted to lick it off.Nasty ass. I snatched the handkerchief from his jacket pocket, wiped his fingers, and threw it on the desk. I started to get up. He stopped me. "Just kiss me a little longer," he muttered, voice rough. He was a confusing-ass man.But I obeyed. I licked his bottom lip slowly before sliding my tongue into his mouth and kissing him like he was mine again. We ended up tangled on the sofa.His mouth was everywhere-my lips, my neck, that spot behind my ear that made me shiver.I arched into him, fingers digging into his shoulders.He groaned against my skin, hands gripping my thighs. When he started grinding against me, I pulled away.I was not about to have period sex in a club office. "My pussy's bleeding and I'm tipsy," I said, smoothing my dress down like I hadn't just dry-humped him into madness. "I'm going home." "I'll call a car," he offered, already pulling out his phone. I walked to the door, paused with my hand on the knob. "What do you want from me, Raziel?" I asked quietly. He didn't answer. "Do you even like me?" Silence.He dropped his head like he couldn't bear to look at me. So I left without another word. 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 ...