In the shadowed sprawl of Lusthaven, a forsaken town carved into the jagged cliffs of the Blackridge Mountains, where the air reeked of salt and sin, Kira stormed through the neon-drenched streets like a hurricane in heels. At 24, she was a spitfire with curves that could make a priest renounce his vows—full tits straining against her ripped tank top, ass cheeks peeking from cutoff shorts that hugged her like a second skin. Her raven hair whipped wild, and her green eyes burned with a fury that masked the ache in her gut. Her brother, Jax, had vanished three nights ago, snatched by the Iron Fangs, the town's ruthless gang that ruled the docks with fists and firepower.