Total pages in book: 28
Estimated words: 26820 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 134(@200wpm)___ 107(@250wpm)___ 89(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 26820 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 134(@200wpm)___ 107(@250wpm)___ 89(@300wpm)
Curious eyes watch and murmur as we pass through the club. "Up the stairs."
Hairs rise on the back of my neck, and I sense Zane watching me. My gaze finds his just before I go inside the room. I manage to shake my head no, trying to tell him not to come for me. Let this play out.
The lesser asshole ushers me inside with his meaty palm on my back.
Ronaldo doesn't get up from his desk. In a suit he's squeezed his fat into, he looks like a villain from an old movie, chuffing on a cigar, a glass of amber liquid on his desk. "Hello, sweetheart," he greets me, and my skin crawls. His gaze is outright obscene, like he can see through my clothes and fantasizes about touching the flesh beneath. "You've been asking questions about Kelly?"
Fucking bartender.
"I know her and heard she's a dancer here." I shrug my shoulders.
"Is that so?"
"Is there a problem with that?" I ask, attempting to keep the challenge from my tone.
The leather of his seat creaks as he stands, and I have to bite the inside of my cheek to prevent myself from laughing as Penguin comes to mind. I close my eyes to get a handle on myself. He's really fucking short.
"Kelly hasn't shown up for work this week."
Taking a breath, I focus on a spot next to him. "Maybe she's sick."
"The girl stole from me. There’s no doubt she skipped town."
The energy in the room shifts, almost with a crackle. Ronaldo's hands fist, and he leans against the lip of the desk. "I'm going to gut her when I do find her."
A cold chill dusts my skin. My heartbeat picks up its pace.
"I was told she was in your private club." I decide to forgo the bullshit.
"Is that so? And was it a blonde drug addict who told you that?"
"What?" My nerves bounce around under my skin.
"Leo Bridgemen—Kelly's plaything," he grunts, gesturing to the guy who brought me in here. Moving behind the desk, the guy taps his fingers over the keyboard and lifts the laptop, carrying it over to me.
My stomach bottoms out when I see Leo's house on the screen.
"I have someone watching the house in case Kelly shows up, and guess who visited Leo on the back of his brother's bike?" A bark of laughter, sinister and deep, rattles his chest. "It's funny." He points to me, his cigar clutched between his forefinger and thumb. The scent fills the room, a toxic cloud billowing toward me, making me cough. I want to vomit. It feels like the pig is inside me, crawling around under my skin. "That’s not where I recognize you from, though."
"Oh yeah?" Horror floods my veins, and I think back to the boxes my grandparents kept in the basement. So many indecent images. I don't remember them ever taking pictures of me, but they drugged me a lot. I always feared there could be some of me out in the world.
"You're a Royal Bastard," he states, and my head swims. "I've been to the clubhouse, seen you there." Gesturing down my body, he chuckles, "Though, you didn't look like this."
"Is Kelly here or not?" My patience is thin. Thinking about those monsters and being around this one puts me on edge. Sweat beads on my forehead, anxiety kicking in.
"I already told you I'm looking for her too." He narrows his round brown eyes. "Kelly was good for the pole but weak-willed. She wouldn't be able to handle the private club." What a scumbag. "I can tell by your face you disapprove,” he tuts. Getting to his feet, he walks over to the drink cabinet and takes a bottle of whiskey out, topping off his glass.
"No, it sounds delightful," I scoff.
"You want to see for yourself?" Dark, hairy brows raise like caterpillars on his face.
"Are you going to let me leave after?"
Holding out his hands, he chuckles, making his suit jacket almost burst open. "I'm a businessman, not a savage."
He’s forgetting he just threatened to gut Kelly.
"Rylie, take Lily down in the elevator." My mouth pops open as my name leaves his lips.
If he notices my surprise, he doesn't say anything. Rylie takes my upper arm but doesn't apply pressure like the brute downstairs. "Sure thing, boss."
"Don't have too much fun down there, Lily. Your brother won't like me keeping you." His dark laughter follows us into the elevator. When the doors close, my heart accelerates.
I’m fucked.
If he doesn’t kill me, Jameson will.
CHAPTER
FIFTEEN
Zane/Chaos.
“How was it?” some frat boy-looking kid asks as I stop near a table. He’s sitting with a group of guys who can barely be in their twenties.
“What?” I try to keep my attention on Lily, my mind racing.
Motioning to something behind me, he says, “The private dance—is it worth it?”
“Sure, kid. If you want an STD.”