Maria Rosa’s head lolls, rolling so that she’s finally looking at me. Her eyes are burning, filled with the promise of sex. “A woman? Did he snuff out one of your pretty women, Rebel? How cruel.”

“Someone of consequence,” I say. I refuse to tell her who I wish to avenge. Since he was my uncle, she’ll be able to figure out who I am if she discovers Ryan’s name, and I can’t have that. That information has been well guarded, protected, since the day I founded the Widow Makers, and I don’t want that changing any time soon.

Maria Rosa groans, eyes shuttering as Rico reaches what must clearly be a very sensitive spot on her feet. Her back arches off her chair, giving her body an inviting curve to it—the kind of curve that begs a man to touch. Carnie clears his throat, throwing his left ankle up to rest on his right knee. He’s clearly trying to hide something, probably the fact that his dick is getting hard, knowing him. I’m immune to this crap now.

“So Ramirez murders someone of consequence and you declare war. And then you show up on my doorstep, looking so good, bringing me some eye candy to enjoy, and I’m not supposed be suspicious, Rebel? Come on.” Rico raises her foot up even higher from his lap and licks at her toes, making her gasp. “You think…you think I don’t know what you want from…me? Ahh!”

“Fuck. Me,” Carnie groans.

“You’re a smart woman, Mother. I have no doubt you know why I’m here. And because you’re smart, I know you’ll also see the wisdom in providing support to the Widow Makers. We take down Hector, you get his business. You can ship through Mexico. You strengthen ties to the Widowers, who can then provide extra protection to you while you’re in this country.”

“And…” Rico traces his tongue across the bridge of Maria Rosa’s foot, making her breath catch in her throat. Her whole body shivers. “And you’ll contract to run my products for me when I need you to.”

This isn’t a question. This is a statement that I don’t really know I should be agreeing to. Providing protection is one thing. Running drugs is another entirely. The Widowers aren’t strangers to transporting the odd key of weed or blow from one spot to another, but what Maria Rosa’s talking about is something else entirely. She’s talking huge quantities, across long distances. “Our outfit’s too small to take on distribution of your operation, Mother. You just said so yourself—we’re a small concern compared to the empire you’ve built for yourself. But I’d be happy to organize local shipments. Share my contacts with you in the east. Set up an expanded network of trusted people who would be happy to work with you.”

“I already know people in the east. I don’t need more people in the east. I need you.” Rico’s working on her calves now, rotating his thumbs into her flesh, making her squirm in her chair. Unfortunately, I know what’s coming next. I doubt it’s avoidable at this stage, no matter what I say. I’ve lost count of the times when I’ve been witness to Maria Rosa getting fucked. It’s all just part of her madness. Should be a treat for Carnie, though.

“I can help you where I can, Mother. That goes without saying, of course.”

Her mouth pulls back into a lazy smile, as Rico’s hands climb higher and higher up her legs. “You’re a sneaky bastard, Rebel. Don’t take me for a fool. I need something from you and you’re dancing around it, like you always do.”

I just smile. There’s nothing else I can do, bar agree to something that will mean I am her employee and no longer her equal. She grins back, just as Rico reaches the apex of her thighs. His hand disappears underneath the skirt of her dress. Her whole body tenses for a moment, then she stretches languorously, like a cat. I wouldn’t be surprised to hear her fucking purring.

“All right, Rebel,” she says, her voice tight under the pressure of what’s happening between her legs. “I’ll help you. But you’ll need to sweeten the deal a little first, since you won’t give me what I truly want.”

This is how it is with her. Always something she needs in payment, regardless of whatever she may already be gaining. “What do you want, Mother?” I prepare for her to ask for my first-born son. Good job I don’t plan on having any kids.

“Hector Ramirez isn’t the only problem I’ve been encountering recently. A few of my shipments have been seized out at Baker. The DEA have been ramping up their interest in my business transactions the past couple of months. It’s very—ahh!—inconvenient.”

I keep my eyes up, front and center, careful not to let myself get sidetracked. “And you want the Widowers to lean on a couple of people? Get the DEA to turn their attention elsewhere?”

She shivers again. Rico’s hand is quickening under her dress, working faster. He grins at me, though with his lower lip fastened between his teeth, the action looks more like a grimace. Maria Rosa groans, rocking her hips upward. Carnie curls his hands into fists, looking at me out of the corner of his eye. “Jesus fucking Christ,” he hisses.

I ignore him. “So you want us to lean on someone for you?”

“I don’t…I don’t want you to lean on anyone,” Maria Rosa gasps. “I want you to bring me the agent’s fucking head in a…fucking bag.”

So it’s murder, then. There’s no love lost between the Widowers and the DEA, that’s for sure, but murder? That will draw all the wrong kinds of attention.

“Well?” Maria Rosa demands.

“I’ll need to assess the situation first,” I tell her.

“Ha!” She grinds her hips up into Rico’s hands, her eyes closing completely now. “You’re such a fucking pussy, Rebel. Don’t go shy on me now.”

The irony of that statement isn’t lost on me. I’m hardly shy. I’m sitting here, conducting a conversation with her about murdering a member of a federal agency while she gets finger fucked by her bodyguard. “I’ll give you one day to think on it,” she says. “And if your answer’s no then you can either…agree to ship,”—she’s growing breathless now—“my fucking drugs, or you can handle your problems on your own. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“In the meantime, there’s one more…thing that I want from you.”

“Which is?”

She opens her eyes, lazily glancing from me to Carnie. “Him. I want him to come assist Rico over here.”

Carnie’s cheeks flush. Of all the Widow Makers, he’s the most highly sexed, most fucking reckless when it comes to women. He has a different woman stumbling out of his room every single goddamn morning, and yet right now it looks like Maria Rosa has caught him off guard. “You want me to…you want me to fuck you?” he asks.

“I want you to stick you dick inside my mouth while Rico fucks me,” she informs him. “Now.”

Carnie looks to me, as though I’ll be able to clarify whether this is some kind of trick or not. I simply shrug. “Better give the woman what she wants.” I hold back from pointing out there’s a strong chance she’ll bite his cock off. Carnie’s a reasonably intelligent guy. He should be able to figure out the odds of something really fucking bad happening all by himself. He shrugs back at me, breaking into grin. “This is one royally fucked-up situation,” he says under his breath, but that doesn’t stop him from getting to his feet.

The next fifteen minutes are interesting, to say the least. Carnie pulls his dick out—already hard, no surprises there—and Maria Rosa bends over, hitching up her tight red dress. Rico slides himself inside her, pulling the top of her dress down so he can palm her tits. She’s practically naked, her long, toned body on show apart from the small section of her stomach that’s obscured by her bunched-up dress. Just like she said she would, she blows Carnie while she lets Rico screw her.

Most people would find this situation very graphic. Confronting even. But I know this woman. Her head is perhaps the most twisted place on the face of the entire planet. Because while she’s bent over, letting two people penetrate her body, letting them screw her, she’s screwing with me. She didn’t ask to suck my dick. She wants me to watch. The whole time she’s getting reamed she’s staring at me—she doesn’t look away once.