B. Nasty was the queen of the underground auction houses, all razor cheekbones and a laugh like broken glass. She’d stolen a hard drive containing Kira’s last client—a washed-up producer who’d bet the wrong money on the wrong horse.
Kira found her at The Gilded Cage , a club where the air tasted like regret and cheap champagne.
“I’m not here to trade barbs, B.,” Kira said, sliding into the opposite seat. “I’m here for the drive.”
“Every word you just said about the auction, the stolen goods, the blackmail—sent to three different precincts,” Kira said softly. “Hot. And mean.” HotAndMean.24.04.04.Kira.Noir.And.Miss.B.Nasty....
“You’re a bitch, Noir.”
“Darling,” she said without looking back, “there won’t be a next time. I’m the fire. You’re just the heat.”
Kira didn’t flinch. Instead, she uncrossed her arms and let her jacket fall open—just enough to show the wire running down her ribs. Kira found her at The Gilded Cage ,
The club’s lights dimmed. Two bodyguards stepped from the shadows.
“You’re late, Noir,” B. Nasty purred, swirling a drink the color of a warning. She sat on a velvet throne, legs crossed, looking like sin carved into a gown.
Miss B. Nasty leaned forward, her smile sharp as a stiletto. “Then you should’ve brought something prettier than that attitude. See, I don’t give. I take . And right now? I’m taking your reputation.” “Hot
And then the night swallowed her whole—leaving Miss B. Nasty alone in her velvet cage, smiling at the one who got away.
Kira paused at the door, the red exit sign painting her silhouette.