Love TKO

by Selene Chardou

  Love TKO

  A Love Unexpected Novel

  Selene Chardou

  Love TKO

  A Love Unexpected Novel #1

  Copyright © 2014 Selene Chardou

  All Rights Reserved.

  Editor: Chasity Jenkins-Patrick

  Cover Artist: Stephanie Nelson (One Upon A Time Covers)

  ISBN: 978-1-3-1056-3584

  Publisher: Midnight Engel Press, LLC

  License Notes:

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return it and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Publisher’s Note:

  No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without express written permission from the publisher. The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the Internet or any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.

  Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, resold (as a “used” e-book), stored or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise), without prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

  This book is a work of fiction. People, places, events, and situations are the product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or historical events, is purely coincidental.

  Begin Reading

  Table of Contents

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  Table of Contents

  Dedication

  Love TKO Playlist

  Prologue

  Part One: Fighting To Win

  Chapter One: Torin

  Chapter Two: Chiara

  Chapter Three: Torin

  Chapter Four: Chiara

  Chapter Five: Torin

  Chapter Six: Chiara

  Chapter Seven: Torin

  Chapter Eight: Chiara

  Chapter Nine: Torin

  Chapter Ten: Chiara

  Chapter Eleven: Torin

  Part Two: Fighting To Live

  Chapter Twelve: Chiara

  Chapter Thirteen: Torin

  Chapter Fourteen: Chiara

  Chapter: Fifteen: Torin

  Chapter Sixteen: Chiara

  Chapter Seventeen: Torin

  Epilogue

  About The Author

  Contacts & Resources

  Current & Upcoming Novels

  Dedication

  I have so many people I want to dedicate this novel to but I will leave it simply at my family, friends, fans, Chasity, Lisa W., Debbie D., Crystal Marie, Kathryn M. and every other hard working bitch on my street team, my beta readers and bloggers who have been there for me.

  You all made this happen and like a child, a book takes a freakin’ village to write and this one took a whole damn city! You’re my die hard girls and you’ll be with me for life; I can’t ask more than that so I won’t.

  All my girls at WDDR.

  Others who have definitely helped me along the way and deserve a shout out are Kathryn Perez, Kim Jones, Jo Wylde, Madeline Sheehan, Christine Zolendz, Chelsea Camaron, Ashley Suzanne, Karina Halle, Nicole Jacquelyn, Lisa Paul, Melissa Collins, Shéa MacLeod, Syreeta Jennings, Carey Heywood and everyone else who has supported me.

  You all rock the Kasbah and don’t ever change.

  Bisous! xoxo

  Love TKO Playlist

  “Take A Look Around” – Limp Bizkit

  “Let It Go” – The Neighbourhood

  “Monster” - Skillet

  “Work Bitch” – Britney Spears

  “I’m On One” – DJ Khaled feat. Drake, Rick Ross and Lil Wayne

  “Never Never” – Korn

  “Eat You Alive” – Limp Bizkit

  “Stronger” – Kanye West

  “Unfinished Sympathy” – Massive Attack

  “Gimme What I Don’t Know (I Like)” – Justin Timberlake

  “Can’t Remember To Forget You” – Shakira feat. Rihanna

  “Under The Water” – The Pretty Reckless

  “Hero” – Skillet

  “Forever” – Papa Roach

  “Never Surrender” – Like A Storm

  “Panic Switch” – Silversun Pickups

  “Whore” – In This Moment

  “Your Disease” – Saliva

  “Give You What You Like” – Avril Lavigne

  “Marvin & Chardonnay” – Big Sean feat. Kanye West and Roscoe Dash

  “A Rush Of Blood To The Head” – Coldplay

  “Breathe Me” – Sia

  “Lucky” – Radiohead

  “…To Be Loved” – Papa Roach

  “What If I Was Nothing” – All That Remains

  “Narcissistic Cannibal” – Korn feat. Skrillex and Kill The Noise

  “My Demons” – Starset

  “Indestructible” – Disturbed

  “Always” – Killswitch Engage

  “Drunk In Love” – Beyoncé feat. Jay-Z

  Listen to the Love TKO Playlist on Spotify.

  Prologue

  The Past

  Torin

  TORIN STOOD FROM the bar stool before he plopped back down and realized he was drunk off his ass. He shouldn’t have had that last Irish whiskey, or the one before that. When sober, he was a moody, turbulent asshole with a temper the size of Texas but drunk, he couldn’t control himself or his impulses to fight.

  Hell, he even picked them just so he would have someone to work off his aggression. He was twenty-one years old, didn’t get nearly as much pussy as he craved and when he wasn’t just plain horny, his need for fighting came from some place deeper, darker, and scarier.

  His miserable fucking childhood in Belfast.

  It didn’t matter he’d been in the States for the past two years, shacked up with distant relatives in Charlestown, and not exactly the best area of Boston. But he had a steady job and after he got off work, he would head to O’Rourke’s Irish Pub and drink himself into oblivion.

  Torin’s mind came back to now. The asshole sitting next to him had begun to piss him off. He pawed at his girlfriend and although she tried to stop his advances, he continued his drunken explorations. Violence against women was the one issue that tipped him over the edge of sanity. He’d watched his mother being beaten, raped and brutalized by his own father and it was something he had no patience for.

  “Leave the lady alone before I shove your head so far up your ass, you’ll be eatin’ your own shit for a week,” Torin finally said in his deep voice and pronounced Irish accent.

  “Hey, you dumb mick, no one asked ya anythin’ and don’t be fooled by this whore—she loves it when I have my hands all over her in public places.”

  That was enough for Torin to see red, though his movements were pre-meditated and controlled. He grabbed the bar stool at the right junction and snatched it from under the stringy, trash-talking fucker beneath him. The guy landed on his ass.

  Slowly, he stood from his own stool and knelt before the guy. He lay on the dirty, scratched up wood floor with sticky spilled alcohol beverages, cigarette butts, peanut shells and various debris littering the area.

 
Torin was smart and avoided the guy’s face because the last thing he needed was jail time. He punched him the gut and unfortunately, one of the guy’s ribs gave way under the impact with a crunch. Slowly he stood to his feet as the guy pulled himself in a fetal position and moaned-cried in pain and agony.

  The young woman, a tired yet young looking brunette with bright green eyes, stared at him in awe.

  “Gee, thanks, mister. I mean, I know Tony don’t mean nothin’ by it but he scares me when he drinks and…”

  Torin wasn’t interested in her sob story. He’d heard much worse in Belfast.

  “Find another boyfriend,” he merely replied before he paid his tab, grabbed his black wool coat and strolled out of the bar.

  The icy cool wind hit him immediately along with the flurries that had begun to come down from the sky. He hated Boston and wished he lived somewhere warmer. The weather was hell but at least there was a bright side. Charlestown wasn’t Belfast and he could deal with it. He’d lived through his childhood, he reckoned he could live through anything.

  The next day was Saturday, the day he trained at the local gym though he also had a fight that night. He had to get prepared and stop fucking around. If he won this fight, there was talk of a scout and Las Vegas.

  What he wouldn’t give to live there.

  They said the sun shined all the time in Vegas and it was mostly warm. That would be a great step up from the way he was living now. It became the one, singular goal he focused on and before he got back home, he’d already forgotten about the guy he sucker punched and his weak, whimpering girlfriend.

  Chiara

  “CHIARA, MR. JACKSON will see you now.”

  I stood up on cheap red acrylic high heels, which went perfectly with the low cut lace dress I wore, and my red Coach handbag I’d saved up for and purchased since I worked at the store in the mall. For someone who was only eighteen, I was pretty worldly but I also knew I couldn’t make it far in the real world with a high school diploma and one semester at Reno Community College. An older sister, my mother had suddenly dumped on me, with serious issues didn’t help my situation either.

  I came from a line of women who sold their body for profit, and my mother had hit pay dirt. She’d recently married a long time client, a Swiss billionaire who loved her and cherished her with all his heart.

  Although my mom’s story sounded like something out of Pretty Woman, it was atypical and rarely happened. She just got lucky, and if there was a God in Heaven looking out for me in my corner, maybe I would be lucky today too.

  It was a rarity for any potential employee of Raymond Jackson to meet him at his ostentatious home in Lake Tahoe but it was shortly after Christmas. Mr. Jackson and his beautiful wife, Ingrid Krieger-Jackson, were leaving for Germany the next day and it was the only time he could fit into his busy schedule to see me.

  I walked into his study, bright and modern with one wall made completely of glass. A gorgeous view of Lake Tahoe, covered in white from all the snow we’d received, looked inviting yet I knew how cold it was outside.

  The rest of his office was the color of brick red walls with expensive oak furniture and a whole bookcase lined with classics. Another oak bookshelf case, cater-corner to that one, was lined with contemporary hardback novels by Stephen King, Anne Rice, Tom Clancy, Thomas Harris, J.K. Rowling, Dennis Lehane, James Patterson, Lee Child, David Baldacci, and George R.R. Martin.

  I couldn’t help but admire his collection of novels, and as I reached towards Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone, Mr. Jackson cleared his throat.

  “All those novels are first editions signed by the authors’ themselves, Ms. Bassi. I’d appreciate if you didn’t touch them. They are merely there for decoration. I have the paperbacks that I’ve read for entertainment.” Although he had to be in his forties, Mr. Jackson looked younger than his years and held out his hand toward an empty yet luxurious leather office chair in front of his desk. “Please, Ms. Bassi, take a seat.”

  I walked over reluctantly and sat down. I couldn’t settle my frazzled nerves though the chair was quite comfortable, and there was absolutely nothing threatening about Mr. Jackson in any way.

  He looked like a wealthy businessman in his expensive royal blue Italian suit and black Prada loafers, certainly not a man who worked hand-in-hand with one of the most powerful Mafia families in Northern Nevada, owned hotels and ran several successful brothels in the tri-cities area.

  I tried to keep my knees from shaking and crossed my legs at my ankles because that is what ladies did. I wasn’t here to seduce Mr. Jackson, I was here because I needed a job and I was more than qualified for the profession in question.

  “Now,” Mr. Jackson began as leaned on his desk and crossed his fingers together. “How can I help you, Ms. Bassi?”

  “Well, Mr. Jackson, you employed my mother and…now that she’s abandoned my sister, Sienna and I, I need a job. I currently work at Coach in the Meadowood Mall.” I looked down at my manicured hands before I met his eyes again. “It doesn’t pay much and with Sienna’s…issues, the money isn’t enough for me to take care of her and myself.”

  “So, how can I help? Have you come here because you would like to be under my employment?”

  I couldn’t look into his eyes as I murmured, “Yes.”

  “You do realize what your employment will entail, Ms. Bassi?”

  “Of course.” I finally stared into his penetrating amber eyes. “My mother worked for you, and although she didn’t exactly advertise what she did, I put two and two together. She had a clean place to work, had quality clients and never had to work the streets. You’re hardly a pimp—”

  “Actually, that is exactly what I am…among my other professions. I may not look like it with my tailored suits and expensive clothing but I’m not different than some gold-tooth, fur-wearing son of a bitch who orders some woman to get me my money by calling her derogatory names. I am indeed the same. I profit from women selling their bodies and it has been a very lucrative profession for me indeed.

  “Unfortunately, I have a daughter just a few years’ older than you and my perspective has changed. It’s become…harder for me to keep my professional life from spilling into my personal life.” He paused before sighing out loud. “I can’t offer you a job as an escort, Ms. Bassi, but I would be perfectly happy with offering you a position as a hostess at one of my brothels.”

  “And how much does that pay, Mr. Jackson?” I inquired though the question seemed uncultured and a bit uncouth.

  “Seven thousand a month. You are paid bi-weekly and it is a perfectly above board position. You won’t ever have to service a client unless you want to—”

  “I’m afraid that won’t be enough.” I twisted my hands in my lap while my nerves did a complete flip in my stomach. “You see, Sienna, she isn’t well. We’ve been to all the specialists and she’s been diagnosed with bi-polar disorder, also known as manic depression. Her meds are expensive, and she can’t possibly hold down any sort of employment at the moment. I respect you very much Mr. Jackson, but I need a job as…as a whore. It’s the only way I’ll be able to take care of us both.”

  He sighed again and shook his head. “It’s true, your mother, Simone, worked for me. She was beautiful and very talented in the sexual department but she didn’t have nearly the intelligence or wisdom that you do. I know about how she conceived both you and your sister. Sienna is an Abandonato while you are a Bassi, a friendly Mafia family who has their claws firmly planted in Las Vegas.

  “The lifestyle, it wears on you, more than you could ever know. It’s not just about being a whore, Chiara. Some clients you won’t even sleep with and are merely a piece of arm candy or a good luck charm. However, every man you do have sex with will have his…sexual proclivities. Some won’t want vanilla sex and will want to see you humiliated, or maybe they prefer ‘backdoor action.’ Once you agree to go with a client, you must do what they would like for you to do as long as you are not risking your health. Do
you understand what I’m trying to say? I cannot protect you from the evils of the world and there will be some acts you might have to participate in that will haunt you for the rest of your life.”

  “That might be true.” I set my handbag down on the floor beside me. “However, like you said, I’m smarter than my mother and I have an end game planned out. I plan to retire at twenty-eight but I will be very wealthy, can take care of my sister and will be able to live my own life. I won’t be too old to find a man or start a family—”

  “That is true but if this is what you plan to do then know I have very specific rules for my women. You will undergo both a vaginal and anal exam once a month and you will be tested every week. There are clients who will offer you double—sometimes triple—to have sex with you without a condom and if that happens then that is your business but if you come down with a venereal disease then you’re fired. I only ask what is due to me and that is forty percent of what you make and what you and the client have agreed to beforehand.” Raymond opened a box and pulled out a Cuban cigar.

  My heart thundered in my chest so fast, I could feel it against my ribcage. “Does that mean I have the job?”

  He cut it with precision before he stuck it in his mouth and lit it with a gold, engraved lighter. “Yes, I will give you the position…but there is one more condition to your employment with me.”

  “What’s that?”

  “You’re not allowed to get involved with any clients outside of the sexual arrangements, which they are paying for and you are never allowed to have a boyfriend. They’re too much trouble and men often say they can handle it but they can’t and they don’t. This is a rule every one of my women lives by and if I find you have broken this cardinal rule then you’re fired.”

  I slowly exhaled and realized I’d been holding my breath all along. “So, I’m hired then?”