Page 25 of Braxton

The club was huge, and she paused, taking a moment to study the setup and crowd. The theme seemed to be excess and decadence swathed in a crimson interior. A huge chandelier hung over the crowded dance floor, and she noticed people hanging over a second-floor balcony railing above it. The bass-heavy music made her entire body vibrate and she blinked when strobe lights began to flash. Smoke poured out of a machine hidden somewhere behind the DJ spinning tunes on the stage.

Nothing about it appealed to her, and the twenty-something crowd made her feel ancient. These days, she much preferred a glass of wine and her couch to partying like a rockstar.

“I’m in,” she reported in a low voice, hoping they could hear her over the music.

“Roger that,” Brax answered. “When you have eyes on Mesa—”

“I know,” she interrupted, weaving her way through the crowd of people. “I will promptly inform you, Commander Graves.”

She could picture him grinding his teeth and she smiled. Getting under his skin always entertained her. Mostly, she did it to loosen him up a little. Sometimes, he could be wound a little too tightly, and she liked it when he let his curls down.

Winding her way through endless, sweaty, grinding bodies, she kept her gaze on the balcony, searching for the entrance point. It had to be the VIP area, and if Mesa showed up tonight like he was supposed to, that’s where he’d be.

But she had to make sure. Down on the first level, it would be impossible to keep a close watch on the man. There was also the possibility of another exit up there, which she would need to report back to the team.

Getting up into that balcony became priority number one.

She spotted a big, lone bouncer standing in front of a staircase and walked up to him, batting her lashes. Giving him a shy smile, she said, “Hi, my friend is up there and—”

“Sorry. No one else is allowed up,” he grunted, crossing his big arms.

Quinn stifled a sigh, wishing he would’ve made this easy on them both. “But she has my phone—”

“Sorry,” he interrupted.

“Well, that’s too bad,” she purred, reaching into her strapless bra and pulling a hundred-dollar bill out. She waved it back and forth, unable to miss the greedy gleam in his eyes. “I’ll be quick. Promise.”

The bouncer snatched the hundred and stepped aside, allowing her access.

“What a dick,” she muttered, starting up the steps. “I know I’m not twenty-one anymore, but geez. Way to bruise a girl’s ego.”

“He’s just doing his job,” Braxton stated in her earpiece.

“Which prevents me from doing mine.”

“You look beautiful, Q,” he told her, voice low and husky, sending tingles shooting through her body.

“Thanks,” she murmured, soaking up his words.

Once she reached the second level, she paused, taking a moment to look around. It was much bigger than she’d originally thought and at least fifty people filled the area. Most definitely a fire hazard. Her gaze zeroed in on a large velvet booth in the corner, and the man who sat in its center like a king.

Well, a drug kingpin, anyway.

Prime Colombian product, from pills to white powder, covered the booth’s shiny, black tabletop. Uncorked champagne bottles sat in buckets of melting ice, and a long table full of food ran along one of the walls. Other than a few very obvious bodyguards, the rest of the area was packed with scantily-clad women, dancing, laughing and higher than the heels they stumbled around in.

Definitely not her scene.

She clocked an emergency exit beside the booth and reported it back to the team. “Make sure to cover the southwest emergency exit leading down to the alley. I think that’s where he’ll leave.”

“Roger that,” Brax said. “Demon, you got that?”

“Already heading over there,” Gray returned in a steely grumble.

Walking forward, Quinn swiped up a glass of champagne, her attention on Alvaro “El Escorpión” Mesa, the feared leader of the Clan del Escorpión cartel. He didn’t look that scary to her. More like a glassy-eyed, overweight sack of shit who was indulging in his own product.

She contemplated taking him out with the pistol in her purse. But, one, there were too many armed guards and civilians. Not a good combination. And, two, Brax would shit a brick if she veered from the plan.

Mesa looked up. She felt his oily gaze slide down her body and did her best not to cringe.Showtime.Stopping in front of his table, she gave him a slow, sexy smile.

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