"You're the Crowe Tribe, right? Your young heir is my boyfriend!"
The laughter died. Every man went still.
For one heartbeat I thought I'd actually scared them. Then the bald man's palm cracked across my face and I hit the ground.
His boot came down on my chest, pressing until I couldn't breathe.
"Using the young heir's name to lure women here is the oldest trick in the trafficker playbook."
"You women are all the same. You hear about our gold mines and come running with your tongues hanging out."
"Since you won't pick, tonight we all get a turn."
"We'll show you what Crowe men are made of."
Before I could scream, he grabbed me like a rag doll and slung me over his shoulder.
"My boyfriend isn't a trafficker! His name is Declan Crowe. He IS your young heir. Just bring him here and ask him!"
I beat my fists against the bald man's back, thrashing, desperate to break free.
"You dare speak our young heir's name out loud? You must be tired of living!"
He hurled me off his shoulder. I slammed into the ground chest-first, and white-hot pain tore through my ribs.
"Where did an outsider woman even hear our young heir's name? Speaking it is a punishable offense. Did nobody tell you that?"