“Yes, sorry. I thought I heard you wrong. I’d love to go and see what all of this is about.” I admit, not pretending to be intrigued.
“Perfect. Go put some red dress on. I’m sure you have one of those.”
Nodding, I confirm. “I do.”
I turn and walk over to the door of our bedroom of this suite, but Davide speaks up. “Don’t wear anything underneath. No panties. No bra. I want to see every curve and crevasse under that dress of yours.”
“Of course,” I reply, walking in through the doorway. Figuring I don’t have much time I rush up to the closet doors and grab onto the cherry red dress I know he’ll adore. It has thin straps that go over my shoulders, is a bodycon type of style and stops maybe an inch below my ass. Davide said he wanted to see everything, so he shall.
After I change into my dress, I slide on a strappy pair of black heels, take a quick look at myself in the mirror and figure this’ll do. I don’t have time to glam up. Walking back out into the living area, I see Giuseppe is here and ready to take Davide and I to the fight.
Giuseppe goes to the door leading into our suite and opens it for Davide and I. We walk through the doorway, with Davide placing his hand on the right side of my hip. We go down to the elevator, get in and wait while we’re taken to the lobby. The trip to the arena happens right before my eyes. We’re only a mere five minutes away if that from it, smack dab in the middle of Moscow.
I feel like Giuseppe isn’t going in the right direction when he turns through the gates and heads to another side of the parking lot. It’s not near the front of the arena, but the back. After thinking about it for a few minutes I believe we’re headed to the back of the arena, where the vendors and other people enter. I’m sure the talent and whatnot might enter in this entrance as well? Who knows. Maybe I’m about to see.
Giuseppe pulls up to a parking spot next to a set of blacked out doors. Outside it are two men in full security uniforms. They both have guns on their hips, searching every single person who wants to pass through. Giuseppe gets out and opens the back door. Davide takes my hand and I slide out with him.
I prepare myself to get felt up by these security guys, but they let us pass through. “Have a great evening, Mr. Lupei,” one states in a deep, masculine accent. Giuseppe opens the door for us and we walk into a concrete tunnel. Various equipment is along the sides, as well as many moving functions. I see people rushing back and forth and it’s obvious to me they’re working.
“When does the fight start?” I ask Davide as we continue down the hallway.
He rubs his hand along my side, “Come, I’ll get you the best seat in the house. It’s already started.”
We walk forward until Davide opens a doorway to the side. In it is a massive TV screen set up with luxurious seats. It almost reminds me of a lavish movie theater. We’re not in here alone. There’s a buffet set up on the back wall, and even a bartender in here as well. Meanwhile, other men in suits and women wearing dresses just like mine are scattered amongst the seats.
“Davide my good man!” A man who appears he’s in his mid-fifties says, smiling at the sight of him.
“Richard, I wasn’t sure you’d make it tonight.” Davide smugly replies with a laugh.
“Of course I would. Wouldn’t miss this for the world. This is going to be my night!”
Davide nods, “I sure hope the odds are in your favor. Did you put a pretty penny on this one?” Oh, they’re talking about gambling.
“I sure did. My boy better come through for me.”
“I don’t know if he will. His opposition is very talented,” Davide replies, just as everyone in the room goes “Oooooo” like something bad happened. Immediately glancing up to the screen I notice one of the men is on the bottom of the mat with blood coming out of his mouth. “Tsk, isn’t that your man?”
“Fuck,” Richard mutters under his breath. It’s obvious he isn’t pleased, though he does try to quickly regain his confidence. “He’s been through worse hits than that. A couple good jabs in the other direction and we’ll be good.”
Davide smacks Richard on the back of his shoulder, “I sure hope so. You’re a friend, Richard. We wouldn’t want you to get in deep shit with Lou again, now would we?”
Richard grimaces at the Lou man’s name, indicating he has a nasty habit with gambling and losing.
Davide takes me off to the other side of the room, closer to the screen and we take a seat in the front. “It’s interesting how you watch the fight from a room like this,” I say.
He smirks, “I prefer my privacy. Not to mention, being out in the arena with the crowd cheering kills your eardrums.”
“Wow.”
“What?”
“I never expected the spontaneous Davide Lupei to say such a thing,”
He chuckles, “I may be impulsive, but if there’s one thing I’m not, it’s stupid.”
I give him a curt nod as I pin my eyes on the screen. Richard’s man is struggling to get back up, moving around more like a slug. Meanwhile, his opposition is hopping around inside the ring like a caged bull. You can see it in his eyes, how he isn’t done and wants to keep plummeting the man. I’m not sure how these matches work, or if there’s another one afterward.
Surprisingly, the man on the ground stands up, wavering from left to right as he shakes his head. A referee in the ring speaks to him, and I spot the man removing his mouth guard, shaking his head up and down. He must be telling the man he’s good to fight, though it’s obvious he isn’t. He’s one hit away from ending up in the hospital.
Lips press against my ear while fingers flutter against my bare shoulder. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” Davide asks.
“I am. I’ve never witnessed a fight like this.”
“Mmm, a virgin in a sense. How lovely. Did you know there’s a link between violence and sex?”
Furrowing my brows, I find it hard to believe. “Really?”
“Yes. A neurologist just proved a link between the two not too long ago. He did a study with fruit flies and mice, both proving that violence and sex are more closely connected than we ever thought.” Davide removes his hand from around my waist and slides it between my thighs, brushing against my lips. His thumb presses against my wetness. From the corner of my eye I see his smirk.
For the first time in ages, chills scatter over my body. I bite my bottom lip in the slightest bit, trying to center myself. Davide has this natural ability to get under my skin, in more ways than one. I still don’t understand it, the level I’m interested in him. He’s like a Rubik’s Cube I just can’t seem to solve.
He continues to flutter the tips of his fingers over my skin, causing my center to grow with heat while chills shoot down my back and arms. I sit here in front of the screen trying to pay attention to the screen. Failing in my attempt to ignore the way he’s getting a physical reaction from me.
Richard’s man end ups pulling a win out of his ass. Davide mutters how it’s the only win he’s had in weeks and he’ll lose all of it at the next match because he doesn’t know when to quit. We both sit in the room for a while, drinking with the other exclusive individuals in here until everyone leaves. The arena has been quiet for a while and I figure we’re going home, but Davide’s question surprises me.
“Would you like a tour, to get up close and personal with the ring I mean?”
I think about declining, however this is a once in a lifetime opportunity. “Sure,”
Davide is quick to take me out to the ring. It’s shaped in a hexagon, with some sort of high quality net along the sides enclosing it. It appears to look like a chain link fence, but I can tell it isn’t. Although, it is quite sturdy.
There’s a small stairwell leading up to the ring and Davide goes to the top, opening the doorway leading into it. He grabs something from the railing but I can’t tell what it is. The two of us walk inside and I’m in awe. The lights shining down on the competitors, the rush of hormones flooding through their system. I bet eve
n in their most exhausted moments the rush gives them the power to push through an obliterate their opponent.
Turning around I’m facing Davide again. He has some sort of cloth, wrapping material in his grasp. “Hold out your hands,” He instructs.
I do as I’m told without thought, and then realize what he’s doing. He’s wrapping my hands up like the talent had on theirs during the fight. “What’re you doing?” The tone of my voice comes out worried and fearful. I may be a lot of things but I’m certainly not a fighter.
Davide breaks out into laughter at both my confusion and fear. While he tosses his suit jacket on the floor of the ring I want to scream, because it’s a sixty-thousand-dollar suit. But what he says really throws me off. “You’re going to fight me, darling.”
“I’m s-sorry, what?” I blink a few times, but there’s no mistaking it. He was speaking clearly. Davide fully means what he said. He wants me to fight him.
Davide licks his lips, stepping toward me and gets in my face. “I said fight me, Belladonna. Go ahead, hit me.”
This has to be some sort of trick. If Miss. Bianchi ever found out I physically harmed a client I’d be fired. I’m only a little over three quarters of the way to my savings goal. There’s no way I can do this to him. I could lose everything I’ve worked so hard for. “Are you fucking deaf? I said hit me!” He hollers out, scaring me to my core.
I do as he says and plummet my right hand straight into his face. I whip my hand back to my sides as quickly as I hit him and the first thing I see is crimson red oozing from his lip. “Oh my God. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
He snickers, giving me that sinful glance he always does. Davide pulls my right hand up and spots the cause of the cut, my opal ring. The corner of it must’ve snagged him. “Then kiss me, kiss me like you fucking love me, Belladonna.”
Fuck. Why does Davide always have to play these mind games? Is it possible he’s somehow in my head and knows I like his company more than the others? Does he know just how much he gets under my skin?
I take a half step toward him when he crushes his lips down on my own. It’s unlike any other kiss we’ve ever shared. His lips fold around mine in a ravaging, animalistic way. Almost as if he’s suffocating and my mouth is his only way to breathe. It’s entirely so intense. His hands yank my straps down, pulling my dress until my tits are out. Meanwhile, he’s freed his cock from his pants and flips me over to where my knees are on the mat. Pulling my dress up over my ass he thrusts himself inside with one swift movement.
I moan out in ultimate pleasure, loving how hot and intense this has gotten. I want the nasty, dirty fuck he’s about to give me right now. Davide wraps his hand around my throat, ramming me in from behind over and over again. “Does my little slut love what I’m giving her? Hmm?” He asks, using his free hand to tweak and slap my breasts.
“Answer me, slut. Do you love my cock? Do you want me to fill your insides with my seed?” At the last question he pinches my nipples, causing me to scream again and I nod.
“Yes, yes. Please, please make me cum too. I want to cum so bad, Davide.” Even I can hear how authentic my plea is with him. I’ve faked that same plea plenty of times with other clients, but not with him.
No, not with Davide Lupei.
I just pray I don’t become like the other girls before me falling for a client. He’s still confused me so much, and I think he will forever. Thank God my break is coming up. While I know I’ll miss him, I need the space to gather my thoughts. I need to distance myself from this man before it becomes too much.
Chapter 10
Blanka/Belladonna
Early this morning I boarded a private jet leaving the Ukraine. My destination? Venice. After Moscow Davide needed to go to the Ukraine, but it wasn’t for business affiliated with the fights. He went for another reason . . . and considering the way he was so hush hush about it, I believe it was to do with the fact he’s in the mafia.
He admitted that to me weeks ago, but I’ve barely heard any chatter about things in relation to criminal activity. It made me wonder for a bit if he lied, if it was a spontaneous way to fuck with my head. Though, I’m not going to be stupid enough to believe that. How else would the man afford sixty to a hundred-thousand-dollar suits?
Why would he have a security team surrounding him at all times?
He’s in the fucking mafia and there’s no denying it.
I’m in the back of a cab on my way to Miss. Bianchi’s, pulling up on the side of the street. I open the door as he parks and luckily he’s already popped the trunk. Going to the back I grab my suitcase and head toward the door.
Upon opening the front door an eerie feeling hits me at the sound of an uncomfortably familiar laughter. But I know I must be mistaken. This is just someone who sounds similar to my sister, Regina. She wouldn’t be here. There’s no way. Miss Bianchi did say they were going to hire a couple more girls while I was on my assignment with Davide.
Going further into the foyer, I swear I’ve been punched in the stomach. There she is. Her long brunette hair flows in careless waves. She’s laughing over something one of the clients has said and Galina is beside her, smiling at me like this was a surprise.
This isn’t a surprise.
It’s torture.
Galina excuses herself and approaches me. My hand is still holding onto my luggage and right now I’m white knuckling it. Holding onto this is the only way I can avoid screaming at the top of my lungs. I was fine without Regina being here. I’ve been fine for years without her presence. Honestly, my life has been better without her.
We haven’t seen one another in years. The last time I saw her she stole over a thousand Euro from me. I love my sister, but when she did that it showed me I can’t continue to keep her in my life. Regina’s been struggling with drugs for longer than I can remember. This may sound rash, but I don’t know how she hasn’t overdosed and killed herself by now.
“Do you like my treat for you?!” Galina smiles brightly, so I grab ahold of her forearm and drag her upstairs with me until we’re in my bedroom.
“Did you honestly think I’d enjoy seeing her?” I bark at the woman who’s supposed to be my friend.
Galina genuinely looks confused, but she shouldn’t be. She isn’t this fucking stupid. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know you two had a falling out.”
Not even commenting about what she said, I go straight to the facts. “She’s a drug dealer who steals things.”
Galina’s face turns sheet white. “What? She got in contact with me and said she needed a job. She’s been working here the last two weeks . . . Oh dear. Blanka I’m so sorry.”
I scoff, “Get out, Galina.”
“No, no. I want to help.” She feigns.
“You want to help? You’ve already done enough, now get the fuck out.” I seethe. Galina should know better than anyone not to fuck with me when I’m pissed. She ends up leaving and I lock the door behind her, needing a few minutes to myself to deal with the feelings plaguing my mind.
I’m sure Galina thinks I’m cold. But, she doesn’t know what Regina’s like these days. Of course I want my sister to do well. If she was in the right mindset I would’ve introduced her to Miss. Bianchi years ago.
God, I’ve never hated being in the brothel house more than I do right now. For once, I wish I was still with Davide. I thought this week would give me an opportunity to think freely and figure out what I want, or don’t want. Instead, it’s become a sort of prison.
Over the next half an hour I take all of my luggage out and go down the hallway toward the washing machines, giving them a good wash so they smell like the lavender detergent I use. It’s standard to head downstairs into Miss. Bianchi’s office so I do that next, knowing I need to chat and give her a rundown on whether or not my trip with Davide was successful and what he thought of his services. She also lets me know the client I’ll be seeing tonight, and the day before I leave.
Luckily for me, her door is wide ope
n so I sneak in there and shut it behind me. The last thing I want to do is let her know I’m back down here and be stuck in a gruelingly agonizing conversation.
“You’re back earlier than I thought,” Miss. Bianchi says. “How was your trip?”
“Same as they usually are. He’s a freak, though, so there’s that.”
She nods her head a few times, “I figured as much. He seemed to be the type when I first met him.”
“He hasn’t complained about my services, correct?” I inquire, verifying as I always do.
“No, of course not. You’re one of the best and I know if anyone complained about you something would be wrong with them. Okay?”
I nod, “Thanks. So, let’s dive back into it. Who am I to see tonight, and in a week?”
“Tonight you’ll be off. The client we had secured for you ended up having a business issue come up. However, I’ll fill you in on who you’ll be seeing in a week.”
“Please do,”
“I have two men coming from Kenya, they’re brothers and are largely into politics. They want you with one of the new Kenyan women we just hired. They’ve insisted on paying a higher rate than your usual because they want to assure our silence.”
We all sign NDAs, there’s no reason for our silence to be assured. “I don’t need to be paid a higher premium for service I already provide.” I state, wondering if this could be a test.
“They’re not asking, Belladonna. They’ve made up their minds on the matter. Oh, your sister is Regina, yes?”
“Yes,” I admit, even though I don’t want to.
“Oh, I think she’s such a lovely girl.”
I don’t reply to her comment, because I’m tempted to tell Miss. Bianchi exactly what type of person my sister is. Instead, I decide to tell her I’m exhausted and see if she’ll allow me to go rest. Luckily, she does and tells me to enjoy my next few days off.
Chapter 11
Davide
“Mr. Lupei, are you alright?” Giuseppe asks. I know he’s only concerned, but I wish he wouldn’t ask me something like this. Especially in this moment. It’s been a few days since Belladonna has left to go back to the brothel, per the agreement Miss. Bianchi established with me.
Venomous (The Clans Book 11) Page 6