"Elvis might be crass, but he's stand-up when it comes to that shit," Cain shot back.
Dallas lifted an eyebrow and pinned the pretty boy with a look.
"What?" the man snarled, apparently bored of attempting charm. "Jesus Christ, if telling a woman she's got nice tits is a crime, I don't wanna live anymore. And you're awful high and mighty for a man whose club features naked girls fucking each other for tips."
"Consent," Riff muttered. "He doesn't think we know what the word means."
"I think anyone who worked with Trent could use a refresher," Dallas agreed. "Or did you folks forget he threw Six at me like a secondhand couch? I've seen how stand-up his operation was when it comes to that shit."
Cain shook his head. "None of us were involved with that. The guys who were got pretty damn dead. Or did you forget that you killed them?"
"As long as we're all on the same page." Dallas poured another round of shots himself, using the time to scan the floor for Lex. He found her standing with Ace's friend Jared, the dangerously handsome man who was probably the richest free agent in Four.
Dallas had tried to convince Ace to recruit Jared into the fold more than once--mostly because the man earned his wealth screwing rich, lonely ladies behind their neglectful husbands' backs. He knew enough secrets to bring a quarter of the wealthiest families in Eden to their knees.
Dallas wanted those damn secrets.
Jared was laughing now, clearly amused by something Lex had said. She knew how badly Dallas wanted the man charmed. Driving him away would have been a suitable revenge, but petulance wasn't Lex's style. She wouldn't risk the gang and its interests. When the time came for her temper to slip free, Dallas would be the only target. And she'd make him pay.
It was probably sick to find the prospect a little arousing.
With the liquor served, he turned his attention back to the three men seated across from him. Time would tell if they could learn enough to be useful, but Cain had one point. The worst offenders under Trent's reign had been the men loyal to him, and those sorry bastards were really fucking dead.
Sometimes you had to work with people you didn't like toward goals that were good for everyone. Lex would have to get used to it, if she wanted to be queen. You couldn't force men like these to respect women, and trying would only make you look weak. No, you had to step on them until they behaved, and let them see for themselves how much nicer life got when the ladies were on your side. That would change their minds.
The money and willing pussy wouldn't hurt.
She fucking dared him to walk into her room uninvited tonight.
And yet, that's exactly what he did. The door swung open as she sat at her vanity, removing her jewelry, and Lex was so taken aback that she almost laughed. Almost.
The man really had no sense of self-preservation at all.
Dallas draped both arms across his chest and sighed as he watched her drop her rings into a bowl. "Well?"
"Well, what?" she asked.
"Are we gonna do this or not?"
Lex slid the clip from her hair and reached for her brush. "Do what? Should I whine and complain like the little bitch I am so you can pat me on the head and buy me something pretty to shut me up?"
He pulled her knife from his belt and flipped it over in his hand. "I sorta figured this was an invitation to fight. Don't back down now, honey. Tell me how you really feel."
She turned around and snatched the knife. "I'm not your little bitch. Don't treat me like one, especially in front of potentials. It sets a shitty example, O'Kane."
"I slapped them down good, Lex. Before you left and after. But I can't erase a lifetime of learning in one fucking meeting."
A handy deflection--if it were true. "You're full of shit. You didn't slap them down."
He frowned. "Of course I did. They're untrained puppies, Lex. You rub their noses in it when they piss on the floor, and eventually they learn. I didn't drown them in the river over it, no."
She stared at him, dumbfounded. "You have no idea what I'm talking about, do you?"
Dallas was too smart to reply quickly. She could almost see him turning inward, struggling to replay the short conversation and figure out what he'd missed. "The guys made asses of