10.

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The booming bass from the bar on 7th Street practically vibrated the pavement as I stepped out of the Uber, my heels clicking against the concrete. The neon lights from the signs above cast a pinkish glow over the sidewalk, reflecting off the sea of people outside, laughing, smoking, and hyping each other up before heading inside.

I felt alive.

The bouncer barely gave me a second glance before letting me through—maybe it was the confidence in my stride, or maybe it was the way my dress clung to my body just right. Either way, I was in.

The moment I stepped inside, the music swallowed me whole.

It was packed. Bodies moving, drinks spilling, lights flashing. The air smelled like tequila, perfume, and sweat, and the DJ was going insane with the mixes. The floor pulsed beneath my heels as I pushed through the crowd, feeling the energy wrap around me.

I hit the bar first.

"Something strong," I told the bartender, sliding my black card onto the counter.

He smirked. "You tryna remember the night or forget it?"

"Surprise me."

He handed me a red cocktail in a short glass, something fruity but lethal, and I downed half of it in one sip. The burn was instant, spreading warmth through my chest, and I smiled.

The music shifted, and that was my cue.

I left my card open at the bar—I was gonna need more drinks—and made my way to the dance floor. The second I got in the middle of the crowd, I let the beat take over.

I moved like I had something to prove.

Hands found my waist, but I barely acknowledged them, too caught up in the rhythm, the heat, the rush of alcohol. My hips rolled, my hair stuck to my neck, and I closed my eyes, feeling nothing but the music.

Drink after drink, I let go.

I was laughing, grinding, throwing my hands in the air. The room spun just right, my legs felt too light, and I was living.

No daddy. No security. No Ren. No rules.

Just me and the night.

The moment I felt that heavy-ass arm drape around my shoulders, a chill ran down my spine. The grip was too firm, too familiar, too entitled. I tensed immediately, my body going stiff as I tried to shove him off, but he didn't budge.

"Chill, mami," his voice slurred, his breath reeking of liquor and cheap cologne. His fingers squeezed my shoulder, too rough, too damn comfortable.

"Nah, get the fuck off me," I snapped, trying again to push him back, but he just laughed, his grip tightening as he pulled me closer, his sweaty body pressing into mine. Panic crept in fast.

My heart was pounding. The music was still blasting, the crowd still moving—nobody noticed. I was struggling, twisting in his hold, but he was too damn big, too damn strong.

Then—

BANG.

No gunshot. No scream.

Just the sound of a massive body hitting the floor.

I barely had time to process it before I saw her.

Ren.

Her boot was pressed against the man's chest, a gun pointed directly at his head. The entire club hadn't even caught on yet—most people were still dancing, still drinking, but a few gasps slipped through the noise as the people closest to us realized what was happening.

The man on the ground groaned, holding his jaw, blood trickling from his mouth. He looked dazed, like he didn't even know what hit him.

Ren's face was stone cold.

Not a single emotion. Just pure, calculated danger.

"What the fuck you put your hands on her for?" Her voice was low, even, deadly.

The man sputtered, trying to speak, but Ren pressed the barrel against his forehead, and he instantly shut the hell up.

"Ren—" I started, still a little breathless, my mind catching up to what just happened.

She didn't even look at me. Her entire focus was on him.

"You deaf? I asked you a question."

"I— I ain't do shit," he croaked, fear now lacing his voice. "I was just—"

Ren clicked the safety off.

The sound alone made my stomach drop.

"You was just what?" she asked, pressing the gun harder against his skull. "Grabbing on her? Touching what ain't yours?"

I had never seen her like this.

Ren was always stoic, professional, unreadable. But this?

This was rage.

Real, quiet, lethal rage.

The man's breath hitched. He was pale now, all that bravado from earlier completely wiped.

"Yo, chill—"

"Shut the fuck up."

I swallowed, my heart still racing. The air around us felt thick, suffocating, like the whole world had stopped spinning for just this moment.

Ren was serious.

I wasn't sure if she was about to pull that trigger or not.

And neither was he.

I expected a lot of things after Ren pressed that gun to that dude's head, but I did not expect this big-ass man to start boohooing like a damn baby.

Like, full-on tears, snot, sobbing.

It was almost pathetic. Almost.

Ren just stared down at him, disgust written all over her face. She didn't say shit, didn't move, just let him sit there in his own damn humiliation. Then, finally, she clicked the safety back on, tucked the gun back in its holster, and yanked me away.

"Let's go."

I was still a little dazed, my heart racing, my body warm from the drinks and adrenaline. She was moving fast, practically dragging me through the crowd. My heels were barely touching the floor before we got outside to that big, black truck.

And, baby.

The moment we got in, Ren let my ass have it.

She didn't even wait for me to get my seatbelt on before she twisted in her seat, one arm thrown over the back of the passenger headrest, and locked those sharp-ass eyes on me.

"Are you fucking stupid?"

I blinked, still too tipsy for this, and rolled my eyes, sinking back in the seat. "Damn, bitch, can I breathe first?"

Ren was not amused. Not even a little.

Her jaw clenched, and she inhaled through her nose like she was trying real hard not to cuss me the fuck out.

"You think this is funny?" Her voice was low, but not the good kind. The dangerous kind.

I just looked at her, lips pursed, arms crossed. Tipsy-me was still feeling myself.

She exhaled through her nose again and shook her head. "I heard you on the phone with Rina this morning."

My stomach dropped.

Damn.

I tried to play dumb. "What phone call?"

Ren gave me a look. A you sound dumb as hell look.

"You really think you sneaky, huh?" she muttered, shaking her head. "I knew your ass was gonna do some shit the second you came up to me talking about we got a 'busy day.'"

I huffed and waved her off, looking out the window. "Okay, Sherlock, you got me. Now what?"

Ren's grip on the steering wheel tightened, her knuckles going a little white. "Now what?" she repeated, voice full of disbelief. "Now you sit here and listen to how fucking dumb you are for sneaking out like that."

I rolled my eyes, groaning. "God, you sound just like Daddy."

"Good. 'Cause he's right."

I made a face, my tipsy brain not trying to hear all that. I didn't get a chance to argue, though, because the liquor was really starting to settle now.

The car was moving too fast, the lights outside blurring together, my body feeling too warm, too floaty.

I shifted in my seat, blinking a little slower. My limbs felt heavy. "Ughhh." I let my head fall back, staring at the roof. "Ren, I think I'm drunk."

"No shit," she deadpanned.

I pouted, turning my head to look at her. "That's mean."

Ren sighed deeply, rubbing her temple. "You brought this shit on yourself, Doll."

That name made me perk up a little.

Not Ms. Hill.

Doll.

I giggled. "You like calling me that, huh?"

Ren ignored me, pulling up to the estate and putting the car in park. She got out, walked around, and opened my door. "C'mon, let's go."

I tried to stand up, but whew.

The way my legs gave out??

Baby, I almost collapsed.

Ren sighed real loud, mumbling something under her breath before grabbing me by the waist and hoisting me up like I weighed nothing.

"Damn, Ren," I giggled, wrapping my arms around her neck. "You strong as fuck."

She didn't react. Just carried my ass up the stairs, through the house, straight to my room.

I leaned in a little, inhaling her scent. Soap, clean linen, a hint of something woodsy.

She smelled good as fuck.

"You smell nice," I muttered, my drunk ass getting bold.

Ren still didn't say nothing, just walked into my room and laid me down on the bed.

She paused, standing there for a second like she was debating something.

I reached up, running my fingers down her arm, feeling how firm it was.

"Stay," I whispered.

Ren exhaled through her nose, pulling away from my touch. "Go to sleep, Yanna."

I pouted, she had barely turned toward the door when my stomach flipped.

I gagged. Once. Then again.

Then it hit me.

"Oh, shit—" I scrambled out of bed, nearly tripping over my own feet as I bolted for the bathroom. The moment I made it to the toilet, my knees hit the cold tile, and I threw up everything.

I barely even had time to process it before I felt a firm but gentle grip gathering my hair, pulling it away from my face. Another hand rubbed slow, soothing circles into my back.

I didn't even have to look up. I knew who it was.

Ren.

I coughed, my whole body shuddering, and braced my hand against the toilet seat. "Fuck," I groaned, voice weak, throat burning.

Ren didn't say shit. She just kept her hand on my back, rubbing in those slow, careful circles, letting me get it all out.

I threw up again, body trembling now, sweat making my skin sticky.

She waited. Patient. Steady. The complete opposite of me right now.

After a moment, when I was finally just sitting there breathing hard as hell, I felt her shift behind me. Then she was wrapping an arm around my waist, pulling me up.

My legs were weak, my whole body feeling worn the hell out, so I barely even resisted as she lifted me and guided me to the sink.

I slumped against the counter, still catching my breath.

I heard the water running, the clinking of something against the porcelain, then suddenly Ren's hand was under my chin.

I blinked at her through blurry, tired eyes.

She was holding a toothbrush. A clean one, already lathered up with toothpaste.

She lifted it toward my lips. "Open."

I just stared at her. Was she really about to brush my teeth for me?

When I didn't move fast enough, she tapped my chin with the brush. "Yanna."

I didn't even argue. Just opened my mouth like a good girl and let her do it.

She was gentle but firm, tilting my chin just right, making sure she got every inch of my mouth. She didn't even hesitate, didn't act weird about it. Just focused.

Something about that sent a shiver through me.

I let my heavy, drowsy eyes drink her in.

Her hair was still up in that tight bun, her face set in that serious expression she always had, her arms flexing just slightly every time she moved the brush.

God, she was so fucking fine.

And then my drunk ass said it.

"You're so fucking sexy."

Ren paused.

She met my eyes in the mirror. Expression unreadable.

Then she just kept brushing, like I hadn't just said that.

I smirked lazily, swallowing the toothpaste as best as I could while still staring at her.

When she was done, she made me sip some water, swish it around, then spit.

After that, she grabbed a towel and wiped my mouth.

I loved this. I fucking loved this.

I wanted to keep pushing, wanted to see if I could get her to break that unshakable composure.

So I leaned forward, my lips just barely brushing her fingers as she wiped my mouth. Not enough to be obvious. Just enough.

Her hand froze.

For a second, I swore I saw something in her eyes.

Then, just like that, it was gone.

She pulled back, tossed the towel aside, and grabbed me by the arm.

"Let's go, drunk ass," she muttered.

I grinned.

She might not have said it, but I knew.

I was getting to her.

Ren guided me out of the bathroom, one hand steady on my arm, her other hovering like she was ready to catch me if I stumbled.

I didn't know why that made my chest feel warm.

By the time we made it to my bed, I was half-asleep on my feet, but I still caught the way she hesitated before speaking.

"You wanna change into something more comfortable?" she asked, voice low, controlled. "I can help if you need."

I tilted my head back to look at her, blinking slow and lazy. She was asking for permission.

That made me smirk.

I liked that.

I nodded, letting my eyes drop heavy-lidded as I muttered, "Go ahead."

Ren didn't waste time. Didn't stall. She just stepped forward and reached for the hem of my dress, pulling it up and over my head in one smooth motion.

And then she saw it.

My matching strapless bra and panties.

A deep, rich wine color, soft lace, delicate but bold.

I didn't miss the way her hands froze for just a second before she moved again, grabbing one of my oversized tees from the dresser and pulling it over my head.

Her fingers barely ghosted over my skin, but I felt every touch.

Then she knelt in front of me—fuck.

I almost squeezed my thighs together right then.

But she was just grabbing a pair of loose shorts, sliding them up my legs with that same focused, professional expression, like she hadn't just seen me standing damn near naked in front of her.

I wanted to ruin her composure so bad.

She stood back up and walked over to my vanity, carefully removing my rings, earrings, bracelets—one by one—placing them neatly in my jewelry box like it was some sacred act.

I watched her, my head slightly tilted.

Her back was still to me when I finally spoke.

"Ren."

She hummed in acknowledgment, but she didn't turn around.

I let my lips curve into a slow, drunken smile.

"Give me a kiss."

That made her stop.

She went still, her fingers hovering over my necklace before slowly turning to face me.

I expected her to shut it down. To remind me of who she was, what her job was, to tell me 'no' like she always did.

But she didn't.

Instead, she walked back toward me, her movements measured, deliberate.

Then, without a word, she leaned in and pressed a soft peck against my lips.

Quick. Simple. But I felt it.

Her lips brushed mine barely a second longer than necessary, her breath warm against my skin as she muttered low, "Goodnight, Yanna."

And then she pulled away, turning toward the door like she didn't just change my whole fucking night.

My breath was stuck in my throat.

The way she said my name—my full name. I usually hated that shit. Government-ass name.

But coming from her? Deep, low, like a secret between just us?

I had to squeeze my thighs together.

The door shut behind her, and I flopped back against my pillows, grinning like a damn fool.

Oh yeah. I was getting to her.