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The very idea of my acting on that confession could get sticky. There’d be no holding back, if I tasted her.

And I wouldn’t just fuck her, I’d give her this cock like I was in love with her.

Because I was.

It would be hot.

Wet and slippery.

And I wouldn’t stop until she came over and over.

There would have to be a conversation after it. She would want more. I didn’t know if I could do more. And what would the other members of my family think, if we did go there?

I continued to remain on guard while sexual thoughts of Zola filled my mind. Every few minutes, I glanced down to see her looking at me.

Fuck. Who am I kidding? Shit has already changed.

Needing some space, I told her, “I’ll be right back. Let me look around.”

I made my way past the velvet rope and crowd of pitiful onlookers. They watched Zola and Trigger sip their champagne on those gaudy thrones as if they were really royalty. And while I could argue that Zola was a queen, Trigger sparked a different debate.

I didn’t even like him so close.

I headed to the bar, not going for a drink, just needing some space from her.

She fogs my head. Why did I think I could do this and stay focused?

The thumping of loud music boomed across Lake of Fire. Most of the women still wore nothing, tempting and teasing. None of them caught my gaze. How could they with Zola so near?

A waitress came over and offered me a drink. “The lady over there wanted to give this to you.”

I smiled and didn’t glance that way. “I’m fine. Please tell her thank you, but that I’m working.”

“She asked me to get your number.”

I shook my head.

Thankfully, she didn’t push it further and moved on with the drink.

My gaze went to Zola as Trigger whispered something in her ear, and she scanned the space around her.

Are you looking for me?

Zola was so tempting. When she strolled in, others turned her way as if she’d cast a spell on the place. Did she have any idea what she did to us? Did she understand the effect she had on me? Already I was breaking rules with my job, distancing myself and not focused on my duties.

My phone buzzed. I checked the screen.

Baptiste: Stark landed.

Me: Good. Anything on forensics?

Baptiste: Odd. Someone poured semen on the bed. Different people’s semen. At least thirty different samples so far. However, when I checked the photos, it only looked like one person had ransacked the place.

Me: I agree. From my review, it was one man that damaged it. Check the sperm banks in the area. See if there was a robbery.

Baptiste: Okay.

You poured yours and others’ semen all over her bed? Why?

Something was odd about it. Maybe he was in the system and didn’t want to be found out. Perhaps he needed his semen on his bed but poured others on there to confuse who it could be.

How did you get a bunch of guys’ semen? What would make you go to such extremes?

A sperm bank was the only thing I could think of. Anything else would be too gruesome, and I didn’t know if I had the head space to deal with that.

I returned my thoughts to Zola as I put up the phone. She sat her sweet ass on that throne.

Damn it. She’s beautiful.

I scanned the crowd, pissed that some man out there was playing sick games and doing his best to scare her. He wanted her to be his, but in the end, she would always be mine.

She was a witch—full of magic. Because since I’d first seen her, I’d been under a spell.

And she’s mine.

Her friend, CiCi came by her and they laughed together. Worry still creased Zola’s eyes, but she kept a soft smile as she sipped her champagne. Surely others felt the supernatural energy around her. Surely, they yearned to burn from her sparks.

I watched how Trigger couldn’t keep his gaze off her. I was sure everyone suspected what I did, that Trigger was somehow in love with Zola.

How long was this fake dating? If Trigger did it, then he probably had one of his friends do the dirty stuff for him.

I counted most of his boys, probably ten of them on the stage. I studied their coked-up faces and how they drooled over everything the rapper said. If Trigger wanted them to jerk off into cups, they’d probably be happy to do it.

I took out my phone and typed.

Me: Look into the rapper Trigger for me. He’s Zola’s ex.

Baptiste: Anything else?

Me: Check his entourage. I’m sure some of them are in the system. There’s got to be DNA or fingerprints that we can use to rule them out.

Baptiste: Got it. I’ll contact you as soon as I have something.