The Cardinal (The Holy Trinity Duet Book 2)

by M. E. Clayton

  I couldn’t tell how tall he was because he was sitting down, but his long legs gave off the impression that he must be pretty tall. He was also wearing a suit that looked like it cost more than a car.

  He looked beautiful.

  But the more I stared at him, I realized his beauty reminded me of panther. He looked sleek, graceful, and deadly.

  Predatory.

  He was also the only man in the room who didn’t have a woman draped across his person. Of course, that didn’t mean anything. He could have a girlfriend or be gay. Masculinity didn’t always equate heterosexuality. There were lots of masculine men who were gay.

  When his outstretched hand shook the empty glass, I quickly snapped out of my perusal and walked over to grab it from him.

  Careful not to bend over, I grabbed the glass only to hear that same guy say, “Sweet ass, too.” He made a t’sking sound. “You’re just a sweet piece, period, aren’t you?”

  Then Green Eyes said, “Blake, take the glasses back.”

  I nodded like a coward and quickly gathered the glasses before practically racing out of the room. When I made it to the bar, Elenore already had her tray full of refills, heading back towards the room. She smiled at me and I felt I needed to warn her of what was going on in there, but then laughed when I realized she probably already knew.

  Placing my tray on the bar, I removed the empty glasses from my tray and gave myself a moment. I also looked at the money on my tray and I tried not to feel dirty when I grabbed it from the tray. When I realized I had no place to put it, I waved the bartender over.

  Lana walked over. “Yeah?”

  “Uhm, I got a tip…”

  She smiled. “That’s a good thing, honey.”

  I grimaced because I felt like a fool. “I…” Lowering my voice, I asked, “Where am I supposed to put it?”

  Lana chuckled. “Hold up.”

  I watched as she rustled underneath the bar, and when she straightened, she had an envelope in her hand. It was the kind that you got from the bank, those thick ones with a zipper.

  “Here you go,” she said handing it to me. “You can hide it behind the bar or keep it on your tray.”

  I couldn’t afford to lose this money, but I didn’t feel it was safe on my tray. However, how safe was it behind the bar? Lana didn’t seem like the type to steal but she wasn’t the only one who went behind the bar.

  “I’ll…it’s not tacky to keep it on my tray?” I asked. “Like…I’m advertising for tips?”

  She gave me tender smile. “Honey, that outfit you have on is already doing that for you.”

  I flushed.

  Lana glanced around underneath the bar until she found what she was looking for. I watched as she presented a little box with a key to me. “You can use this,” she said. “Leave it behind the bar but make sure you don’t lose that key.”

  I quickly grabbed the box, unlocked it, put my money in it, and relocked it. Handing it back to her, I smiled. “Thank you, so much.”

  “No problem,” she replied. “Just make sure you keep an eye on that key.”

  I nodded. “I will.” I grabbed my empty tray, dropped the key on it, and turned to go back into that awful room.

  When I reached the door, Trisha was coming back out. “It’s getting pretty wild in there.”

  “I imagine so,” I muttered, and my conservativeness made her laugh.

  “The money is worth it, though,” she replied. “If it makes you uncomfortable, just remember the money.”

  I nodded, steeling myself to going in there. But then I remembered something. “Trisha?”

  Having already passed by, she turned around. “Yeah?”

  “The guy with the black hair, who is he?”

  Trisha’s eyes rounded in surprise. “Black hair, green eyes?” I nodded. “That’s Salvatore Benetti.”

  All the air left my lungs.

  He was a Benetti.

  He was part of the family who my sister owed money to. Did he know who I was? Did he know why I was here? Did Paolo tell him?

  “Salvatore Benetti?”

  She nodded. “He owns the place.”

  I faked a smile. “Oh, I…I didn’t realize.”

  Trisha smiled back, and then went about her business. I turned back towards the VIP door and couldn’t believe that the man I’d been mesmerized by was Salvatore Benetti.

  Armed with this new information, I needed to make sure I kept my head down, no interaction beyond what was necessary.

  I only prayed he wouldn’t be here tomorrow night as well.

  Chapter 9

  Salvatore~

  We were going to have problems.

  I knew this.

  I’d already told Hector that Blake was off limits, but it seemed as if he refused to accept that. Even with Sylvie sitting on his lap, her tits in his face, his eyes had been all over Blake’s body.

  And that fucking money he’d tossed her?

  Granted, money was the reason why most of the women worked here but he had tossed it on her tray as if she were still an option. As if his money could convince her to lower her standards.

  By now, Micha was getting his dick sucked while two of the girls were on the couch at the far end of the room kissing each other, their fingers pleasuring the other. The top of Sylvie’s dress was down around her waist, her tits in Hector’s hands. Alonso wasn’t as obvious, but he still had one of the girls sitting on his lap. Whatever Alonso was going to do with her, he was planning on doing it in private.

  As for me, Carlo, and Raymond, we knew better than to get distracted by pussy during a business meeting. The last thing the three of us needed was a gun to our heads because we’d been too busy getting our dicks sucked. So, while the girls were putting on quite the show, Carlo and Raymond were appreciating it with their dicks still in their pants.

  The door opened and Blake was walking back in. With my eyes locked on her face, I saw the short intake of breath as she noticed everything going on around her. Quickly averting her eyes, she began gathering the empty glasses and bottles, and there was no mistaking her nervousness.

  When she reached over to collect the glasses on the table next to me, she jumped, her tray and the glasses she’d collected falling from her hands, crashing to the floor.

  I stood up just in time to see Hector pull his hand from between her legs.

  I also noticed that Blake was shaking.

  Pushing her behind me, I pulled out my gun and aimed it for Hector’s face. Immediately, Carlo and Raymond had their guns out, Carlo’s aimed at Micha and Raymond’s aimed at Alonso.

  “Everyone out!”

  The girls scrambled at the sound of my voice, working to adjust their clothing as they hurried to do my bidding. Micha quickly put his dick back in his pants and he was lucky I’d allowed that much.

  “Salva-”

  Ignoring Alonso, I stared down at Hector in his seat. “Did you, perhaps, misunderstand me when I told you she was off limits?”

  His eyes rounded. Now, while I might have provided the alcohol, drugs, and women, Hector was a grown ass man. It was his responsibility to pace himself.

  “Now, Salvatore-”

  “Say another word, Alonso, and I’ll have Raymond put a bullet in you,” I warned. “Carlo, lock the door.” Carlo did as I asked, naturally, and when the lock sounded, I could hear Blake let out a soft gasp behind me.

  This was not good.

  “Do not make me repeat myself, Hector,” I told him. “Did I, or did I not, tell you she was off limits?”

  “C…c’m…mon, Sal,” he stuttered. “It…it w…was just a friendly pat.” He moved his head to try to look behind me, but I stepped in his view. “She didn’t mind. Right, sweetheart?”

  I stepped aside, so that I could look back at Blake. “Did he touch you?”

  Her blue eyes locked onto my green ones. “Y…yes,” she answered softly.

  “Did you want him to touch you?”

  She shook her head slowly
. “N…n…no.”

  I turned back to look down at Hector. “What did I tell you about the women?” I didn’t let him answer. “I told you that as long as they were willing you could do whatever you wanted. Does she sound fucking willing?”

  Hector’s face flushed and I knew he was getting pissed, and that was going to seal his fate. “Fuck, Sal,” he hissed. “She’s not exactly dressed for church.”

  I cocked my head. “She’s dressed for work,” I replied. “No matter how we expect our employees to dress, they’re here to work, nothing more.” I leaned down a bit. “Unless they are willing.”

  “I just touched her leg,” he defended. “It’s not like I touched her cunt, even though she’s got it on stage for everyone to see.”

  I looked back at Blake, and instead of looking at Hector, her blue eyes were still locked on me. And though I didn’t need to, if there was ever a time when I had to prove my manhood, it was now.

  For this girl.

  I reached down, grabbed Hector’s left hand, and placing it on the table next to him, I shot a hole clean through it with my .357 Magnum Snub-nosed not giving one fuck when he let out a piercing scream. The walls were soundproof, so I wasn’t worried about the sounds of gunfire.

  Blake cried out as Hector grabbed his wrist with his right hand, his body twitching out of the chair. “You sonofabitch!” he screamed. “You shot my hand!”

  “You shouldn’t have touched her with it, you fucking maggot,” I spat, not caring that blood and flesh particles decorated my right hand.

  “She’s just a cheap waitress!” Hector screamed. “She’s just a whore, a-”

  I pulled the trigger a second time, putting a bullet through his head.

  “Oh, God…oh, God,” Blake chanted behind me. “Oh, God…”

  Reaching back, I hauled her into my arms but looked over at Alonso. “Do you have anything you’d like to say, Alonso?”

  “No, Salvatore,” he replied through clenched teeth, using my full name as a show of respect. “He was disrespectful, and…well, we understand.” I knew he was referring to how we regarded women.

  I turned to look at Micha. “Do you have anything you’d like to say?”

  Micha just eyed me, and I wondered if I was going to have to put a bullet through his head, too. But finally, he just said, “I think, maybe, it’s time to cut the evening short.”

  “I think you may be correct,” I replied coolly. I glanced at Raymond and jerked my head letting him know to escort them out of the building and Morgan City.

  “Oh, Christ…” Though Blake’s face was in my chest, her voice still carried.

  As soon as they cleared the room, I looked over at Carlo. “Call Marcelo and get this shit cleaned up,” I ordered. Carlo gave me a tight nod before I put my gun away and pulled Blake with me from the room.

  When I had ordered the renovations for the club, I had made sure to have an office built for me that was separated from Paolo’s office. Where his office was located behind the bar and was a regular office, mine was located in the back of the building, no windows, soundproof walls, and an emergency exit door that didn’t lead outside. Instead, it led to a corridor that ran the length of the east wall, then finally led to an exit door.

  After shutting and locking my office door, I walked Blake over to the bar, sat her on one of the barstools, poured her a drink, and after handing it to her, I called Luca.

  “Yeah?”

  “The meeting didn’t go as planned,” I informed him.

  “Oh?”

  “Marcelo’s stopping by.” I didn’t have to elaborate. Luca knew what Marcelo’s role was in the cleanup crew.

  “I’ll see you first thing in the morning,” he stated before hanging up.

  Slipping the phone back in my pocket, I reached out and took Blake’s empty glass. “Do you need another one?”

  Her eyes were full of shock and panic. “You…oh, God…”

  I poured her another one, my hand still a bloody mess, but she didn’t seem to notice or care at the moment. “Here.”

  Blake grabbed the glass from my hand and downed it in one swallow. When she was done, she handed back the empty glass and I watched as her entire body shuttered.

  When she looked back up at me, she said, “You killed him.”

  “He touched you without your permission.”

  “I…” She started blinking, still confused at the simplicity of it all. “Did you have to kill him?”

  I nodded. “Yes, Blake. Actually, I did.”

  “Oh…okay…”

  I cupped her face, Hector’s blood still all over it, and I could still feel her trembling. “I think you might be in shock, baby. Do you want me to call a doctor?”

  Her brows furrowed. “No…no…I’m fine,” she lied. “I’m fine.”

  And then I tasted her because I just couldn’t fucking help myself.

  Chapter 10

  Blake~

  Right now, I should be feeling nothing because of the shock, or I should be feeling nothing but disgust at the blatant murder of another human being.

  But I was feeling neither of those things.

  Right now, all I felt was Salvatore Benetti’s lips on mine and they felt so good that it was rather sickening. The man still had the blood of his murder victim on his hands, and I wasn’t pushing him away. I wasn’t stopping him or demanding that he wash his hands at least. My sanity threatened to unravel with the knowledge that I was wet, and the reason was positively shameful.

  Violence.

  When Salvatore had jumped to my defense the second that he realized Hector had put his hands on me, it had been a huge turn on. I didn’t know a lot of men who still acted chivalrously. In an era where women have demanded equality in all things, most men assumed that most women could take care of themselves these days and didn’t bother. And while that might be true, I liked knowing there were still men out there who still owned white horses.

  Or black ones, as was the case here.

  I knew the Benettis’ reputations, so I knew Salvatore Benetti wasn’t a good guy. I’d known he was a ruthless killer, even before he had blown Hector’s brains out. Salvatore Benetti was not any girl’s Prince Charming.

  Salvatore Benetti was the villain.

  But the more he defended me, the more turned on I had become. While I hadn’t expected him to kill Hector, I’d know it was going to get ugly with each question of consent Salvatore had asked me.

  And now I was letting him kiss me, my adrenaline at an all-time high.

  Maybe I was in shock. Maybe I did need a doctor. Why else would I be so turned on right now? Why wasn’t I a giant heap of hysterics on the floor? Why wasn’t I insisting that he take me home? And, Christ Almighty, why wasn’t I more upset by the murder I’d just witnessed? How was I not traumatized?

  Or was I?

  I didn’t have the answers to any of the questions beating around inside my head, but I knew there was something seriously wrong with me when Salvatore broke off the kiss and his next words did nothing but fan the flames of whatever this was.

  “I can smell your pussy, baby.”

  Shame and embarrassment should have been fighting for the number one spot in my chest right now, but they weren’t. Bloodlust was at the front of the line and I was too busy being turned on by Salvatore Benetti to dissect everything that was wrong with me in this moment.

  This time, when his lips landed back on mine, he had one hand wrapped around the back of my neck, my messy bun giving him complete access, while his other hand ran down my chest until he was cradling my heavy breast like a treasure.

  I opened my legs and let him step in between them.

  Salvatore growled in my mouth and the hand that had been kneading my breast quickly moved south until his finger hooked the barely-there fabric between my legs and yanked it aside. When his fingers slid between my slick folds, I threw my head back, breaking off the kiss, and moaned. “Oh, God…”

  The self-preserving part of my bra
in was telling me that this was because it’s been a while since I’ve had sex. I’d be this turned on, no matter what. But the realistic part of my brain was telling me we were in a lot of fucking trouble because it was Salvatore Benetti and his violent ways making me this wet.

  Salvatore’s hand tangled in my hair, and yanking it for emphasis, he stared down at me and asked, “Tell me you want me to fuck you, Blake.” A desperate whimper escaped from my lips. “Give me permission to fucking wreck you, baby.”

  “Why am I feeling this way?” I asked, not really expecting an answer. “I don’t…”

  “The adrenaline,” he answered simply. “So, I need your permission, Blake. I need you to tell me you want this.”

  Not caring how wrong this was-because, surely, this was wrong as fuck-I nodded my consent. And as soon as I did, two thick, long fingers slid into my body, eliciting at throaty moan from deep in my chest. “Oh, Christ…”

  Salvatore’s lips on my jaw, he said, “Goddamn, your pussy’s tight.” I opened my legs wider. “It’s going to squeeze me so fucking good.”

  Before I could comment, Salvatore removed his fingers from my body, grabbed me by my thighs, and lifted me off the barstool. My arms and legs automatically wrapped about him as he walked us over towards his desk. The move surprised me since there were two armchairs in the middle of the room and a leather couch aligned against one of the walls, but I didn’t question it. I also didn’t question it when he walked us around to the back of his desk and he sat me down on the dark oak wood.

  When I looked up at him, he said, “I want to be able to sit down at this desk and remember what it was like to fuck you on it.” His green eyes raked down my body, slowly, sensually, and dangerously before crawling back up to my face. “This is your last chance to say no, Blake.”

  There was no way I was going to deny him now. Tomorrow, when the regret was sure to hit, I’d deal with it then. Right now, I wanted Salvatore Benetti, no matter how dangerous or reckless it was to want such a man.

  I reached for his belt and that was all the consent that he needed.

  His hands reaching for my hips, Salvatore grabbed me and turned me around before bending me over his desk. I felt his hands reach for my shorts and cool air hit my skin as he pulled them over my hips and down my thighs. And since you really couldn’t wear underwear with this outfit, I was bared to him in that one simple move.