Warning Shot
The truth is, sometimes you have to bring a man to his knees in order to make him realize what he’s lost. And what better way to do that than looking like a total baddie, ready to go out guns blazing?
I throw my head back and laugh, feeling the buzz of the alcohol in my system. It’s the kind of laugh that belongs to someone who’s about to tear shit up—or a lunatic.
The woman applying blood-red lipstick next to me glances at me like I’m insane. It doesn’t help that the dim lighting from the golden chandelier above highlights my face into something straight out of The Shining.
But honestly, she might be right. I lost my sanity the moment I caught my husband face-fucking my best friend.
My eyeliner slips from my hand and clatters onto the marble countertop.
I clench my teeth.
The nerve of those jerks.
How dare they do this to me? I brought them under my protection. I trusted them with my life. With my family’s name. And this is how they repay me?
Fire blazes through my veins, tears prickling at the corners of my eyes. I swipe them away fast before they can smear my makeup. Fuck this. This isn’t some sob story about a broken-hearted girl. No. This is the tale of how I’m going to send Jake Evans and Jessica Daniels straight to the pits of hell.
I pick up my eyeliner again and draw wings sharp enough to assassinate a married man and his cheating whore. I toss it back into my purse, digging deeper until my fingers wrap around cool metal.
My sweet King Cobra.
I pull it out and aim it at the mirror. The girl freezes. Her eyes snap to mine, then back to her reflection. Her shoulders stiffen, but she’s smart enough to keep her mouth shut.
Because in this city, no one fucks with a Cortez.
I flick off the safety, my cerulean eyes staring back at me.
Yeah. You hear that, Jake and Jessica?
No one—absolutely no one—fucks with a Cortez.
