Raven slipped through the night like the darkness owed her money.
Black tactical gear hugged her body tight — no fancy dress, no flashy ring, just cold steel strapped to her thigh and forearm. The deep soreness between her legs from Vincent's rough claiming two nights ago still pulsed with every step. A dull, constant throb that made her hiss under her breath. She didn't push it away. She used it. Let the raw ache remind her exactly why she was out here carving her name back into Caruso's world.
Dante and Adrian flanked her, silent shadows twenty meters back like Vincent had ordered. No more. No less. She'd made it crystal fucking clear she didn't need babysitters. They obeyed, but Dante's scowl said he hated every second of it.
The old warehouse loomed ahead, half-collapsed and rotting under the moonlight. Caruso had already hit it twice. Arrogant pricks thought they could keep coming back like it was their playground. Tonight she'd teach them different.
