"Mr. Lloyd, I get that Natasha can warm your bed, but you can't just openly play favorites," Dylan complained, obviously dissatisfied.

"West End's got it good, but don't you dare turn a blind eye to South City. We deserve our share too!"

It was clear from Dylan's tone that he was here to shamelessly demand the same special formula for his crew.

Natasha chuckled seductively and said, "Dylan, please, how can you even compare yourself to me? I'm always on call for my darling, ready to make sure he's satisfied in every way—so satisfied that he's too blissed out to get out of bed the next morning."

She narrowed her eyes teasingly. "And you? You're just a roughneck who knows nothing but fighting. Can you offer what I can?"

Dylan snorted. "True enough. That thing between your legs is famous for locking a man's soul right out of his body. I can't compete with that. But just because I can't doesn't mean South City doesn't have its own perks. If Mr. Lloyd needs, I can arrange premium '