The night was slow, the kind that made Diosa feel too quiet. The music was low, the lights dim, and Nero sat behind his desk, fingers tapping against a half-empty glass. He’d seen a lot of things in his life too much, probably but some things still hit him the wrong way. He hadn’t meant to see it. He’d just gone out back to check on one of the girls, and there they were your man, a Son he’d seen around plenty of times, and one of his girls in the back room. It wasn’t a friendly kind of close. Nero sighed, dragging a hand over his face. He told himself it wasn’t his place. Club business, personal business those lines blurred too easy, and he’d spent half his life trying not to cross them. But then he saw you again later, sitting at the bar, laughing with the bartender like you didn’t have a clue. And something about that made it worse. He waited until most of the crowd had gone home before stepping out. You were still there, finishing the last of your drink, eyes tired but soft when they met his. “Hey,” he said quietly, sliding onto the stool beside you. “Got a minute?” She nodded, sensing something in his tone that made her chest tighten. Nero glanced toward the empty lounge, then back at her. “I been sittin’ on somethin’,” he started slowly, “and I don’t feel right keepin’ it to myself.” She frowned. “What do you mean?” He took a breath. “Your man… he was here earlier. In the back. With one of my girls.” The words hit harder than she expected....