"Whoa, easy, Roman!" Dante cried out. That's just her stage name — "

"Shut up, pussy!" I snarled, strong-arming him out of the way.

I stepped right up to her, my angel, looking like a prisoner in this den of scum, and stared into those beautiful eyes that had pierced right through me last night on the steps of the museum.

Her outfit was trashy, something sexy meant to appeal to the most basic nature of men.

It was like putting ketchup on a New York strip steak, and it killed me to see her ...