by Penelope Sky
She examined the phone. “It looks just like mine.”
“That’s the point, just in case you’re seen with it.”
“How did you know what my phone looked like?” She raised her gaze, her eyes full of accusation.
“I looked through your clutch.” I didn’t feel bad for my actions. She could get angry all she wanted, but it wouldn’t change anything.
“Brazen, are we?”
“Always.”
“Then you must have looked at my ID…”
“No.”
“Really?” she asked. “You want to know who I am. Seeing my last name would give you answers.”
“It’s your business. If you don’t want me to know, that’s fine. And if I really wanted to know who you were and who your husband is, I could get that information without looking through your clutch.”
“Then why haven’t you?” Her hand slowly moved up my chest, like that was her favorite feature to caress.
I couldn’t decide what was more beautiful, her face or her body. She was perfect in every way imaginable, from her impeccably manicured toes to the soft strands of hair that sat on her head. “Because we’re just screwing. It doesn’t really matter.”
“No…I guess it doesn’t.” She slowly moved her hand down until it returned to the sheets. “I should get going.” She leaned into me and kissed me with her luscious, soft lips. The kiss was soft but still packed the same passion we always shared. She kissed me like she could crawl into my lap at any moment. She was always wet for me, and I was always hard. Her beauty and curves did crazy things to me, along with her intense enthusiasm. She fucked me like I was her ultimate fantasy.
She was definitely mine.
She crawled out of her bed, giving me a great view of her ass, then pulled her dress on for the second time.
I got out of bed and pulled on my jeans and shirt.
She put the second phone into her clutch. “Is your number in here?”
“Yes.”
“Don’t call me past five. That’s when he’s usually home.”
“Where does he go all day?”
She shrugged. “Work. To his other home with his whores. I really don’t know, nor do I care.”
The man had this woman for a wife, but he still paid whores? That didn’t make sense.
“How about texting?”
“Texting is safe. I won’t have that phone on me when I’m around him. Problem solved.”
This went from a random hookup to a secret affair. Now we were keeping in contact and sneaking around. I had nothing to be scared of, so it was only thrilling for me. That asshole had forced her into servitude so she could save her boyfriend…what kind of asshole did that?
I guess that was something I might do.
But that was beside the point.
I lived for knife fights, adrenaline, and sex. I got off on outsmarting an opponent. I got off on killing men who crossed me. And I got off on sneaking around behind this asshole’s back…because I wanted him to find out. Even if he was a client or an adversary, I didn’t care. Forcing her into marriage because of her piece-of-shit boyfriend was too harsh a sentence. Keeping her as a plaything for a few months would have been a lot more reasonable. But a life sentence? Over the top, jackass.
She slipped on her heels. “Do you mind if I use your bathroom?”
“Not at all.”
She used the bathroom in my bedroom then came back with perfectly styled hair and clean makeup. She’d touched up everything to make it seem like she’d been out at a restaurant with friends, not rolling around in the sheets with a tyrant.
I wanted to go for another round just to make her look thoroughly fucked again.
“You don’t need to walk me every time.”
“I know I don’t. But a woman like you shouldn’t walk alone dressed like that.”
“Dressed like what, exactly?” she asked, her feistiness returning. She stepped inside the elevator and gave me a cold look, just as she did the last time I’d made a comment about her attire.
“You could wear a burlap sack and still be gorgeous. But in a dress that’s so fucking tight it leaves little to the imagination, you’re a target. There’re lots of beautiful women in this city, but they don’t hold a candle to you, baby. If a jackass drives by, you’ll be his next victim. But with me on your arm, those bastards will be too chicken-shit to even glance. That’s exactly what I mean.” The doors opened, and we left the compound, reaching the sidewalk near the road.
She walked beside me but didn’t link her arm through mine or hold my hand. She kept her distance and hid her affection, as if someone might see us together and report us to her husband.
Like being seen with me in the middle of the night wasn’t incriminating enough.
Or maybe she just wasn’t the affectionate type.
I certainly wasn’t.
After a few blocks, we arrived at her Bugatti. It was jet-black with a new coat of wax, and her staff obviously kept the car in perfect condition when it was at the house.
She pulled her keys out of her clutch before she pressed her curves against me. “I’ll be thinking about you every night until I see you again.” Her hand moved up my chest as she stared at my lips, like she wanted to push me up against the wall and kiss me so fucking hard. Her fingers pressed into my cotton shirt and dug into the hardness underneath the fabric. Her eyes lifted to mine again, her eyelashes shifting with the movement.
I pictured this beautiful woman alone in her bedroom, her fingers trying to recreate the pleasure I gave her in my bed. My cock hardened in my jeans because I wanted to be there with her, to push her into climax after climax. Clinginess was a turn off for me, but every word out of this woman’s mouth turned me on. She told me I was sexy, told me I was her best lover, told me that she pictured me when her husband was between her legs. With anyone else, that would have been our final conversation. But with her…I only wanted more. “Park in the compound next time. If you keep parking on the street, someone is bound to notice. Not too many Bugattis around here.”
“Will do.” She dropped her hand from my chest and turned to the car.
I snatched her wrist and yanked her back into me. With my lips almost touching hers, I said, “You think I’m going to let you leave without a kiss goodbye?”
She moved into me and wrapped her arms around my neck. “I was hoping not.”
My hands tightened on her lower back, and I pulled her hard into me, kissing her like she wasn’t just some woman I was fucking, but a woman who actually meant something to me. Her lips tasted like warm honey sprinkled with cocaine. Every kiss was more addictive than the last. My hand slid to her ass, and I gripped that tight nectarine with a firm hand, my mouth filling hers with my breath.
She moaned into my mouth quietly, like it’d been so long since a man had touched her the way she liked. She’d been a sex toy to a man she despised, and now she was being handled like a real lady—with her ass squeezed by a man’s palm.
I pulled away first, feeling the discomfort in the front of my jeans.
Her lips were still slightly parted, disappointed that it didn’t last forever. Her hands slowly slid from my shoulders as she stepped away. “Night, Balto.”
“Night, baby.” I stared at her ass as she walked to her car, picturing that little asshole in my mind. Soon enough, my dick would be crammed deep inside, and I would make her come even harder than she ever had before.
She started the car and drove away.
I stayed on the street corner with a hard dick in my pants. I’d spent the last few hours fucking a sexy woman, but I didn’t feel an ounce of satisfaction. I’d filled so many condoms with my arousal, but it wasn’t enough. Nothing was ever enough.
10
Balto
“Where’s my money?” I bypassed all of Case’s security and made it into the large room that served as an office. There was a dining table scattered with papers, and Case sat there with his brother across the table from
him.
Case looked up, his green eyes burning with savage fire. He was a strong man with his muscular shoulders and chiseled forearms, and his profound poker face made him a respectable opponent, but he was no match for me.
No one was.
“Stop knocking out all my guys to get in here.” He dropped the pen he was using for his paperwork. “Walk in like a normal person.”
“But it’s much more fun my way.” I eyed the bar next to the window before I helped myself to a drink. I made my usual—a scotch on the rocks. I took a seat and got comfortable, like I owned this place as much as they did. “Plus, it teaches you how lax your security is. You need to hire better men, more men, if you really want to keep people out.”
“I don’t want to look too suspicious,” Case said. “After all, we are just a pasta factory.”
“Let me tell you something.” I leaned forward with my hand around my glass. “The really successful men don’t give a shit. The powerful, the unquestionable. They’ve got something to protect, and they aren’t afraid to show it. One day you’ll get there. You’re too new to the game.”
“Too new?” Case asked, his eyebrow raised. “I don’t think new men bring in the kind of money I just bagged this month. Our product is gourmet—just like our pasta.”
“How much are we talking?” I didn’t say a word to his brother, who was quiet in his seat of the table. He looked similar to Case, with Italian good looks and hard cheekbones. He’d inherited the same green eyes. There was no doubt they were brothers.
Case left the table and grabbed a briefcase from the counter. He carried it back to me and unlocked the clasp that kept it shut. “See for yourself.” He sat down again.
I popped the lid and saw the cash bundled together and neatly organized. I dealt with money every single day, so I could recognize counterfeit at a single glance. This was the real shit. I grabbed a bundle and quickly counted it then made a projection of the value of the entire briefcase. “There’s gotta be at least five million in here.”
“Yes.” Case didn’t hide his pride. “Very close.”
“Which means you made a great deal for yourself.”
“And I’m not changing your cut. We agreed to it—and we’re sticking to it.”
I was so rich that a little more money wouldn’t make a difference. “I’m impressed.”
Case nodded to his brother. “Dirk is the mastermind behind the product. He understands the definition of high quality, how to make it so sweet that the addiction starts at the first hit.”
Dirk only stared at me.
I nodded in his direction. “That’s impressive. Most of the stuff on the market is the same shit.”
“Ours isn’t,” Case said. “We’ll be the number one distributor soon enough.”
The ambition sounded good at first listen, but it could be deadly. “You want to be successful, but you don’t want to piss off the other guys unless you’re prepared to go to war. I can tell you right now that you aren’t.”
“For the time being,” Dirk said ominously.
I’d underestimated these guys. I thought they were happy with their little pasta company. It’d been around for generations, so it obviously brought them a good living. But they were shooting for the stars and everything above. “My job is to keep the peace.”
“By threatening people?” Case asked incredulously.
“Yes…it’s one of my techniques.” I shut the briefcase then took a drink of my scotch. “It gets shit done faster. And when I actually start slitting throats, it gets shit done even faster.” I set down my glass and looked at him, telling him I was being completely honest about my execution style.
Case looked at me but didn’t seem intimidated. “You’ve got your money, so you can go now.”
“I will when I finish my drink.” I swished the liquid in the glass then brought it to my lips.
Dirk was muscular like his brother but slightly leaner. He had to be at least four years younger than Case because his youth was more apparent. He drummed his fingers slightly on the table, looking at me without blinking. These two men had made the right decision to submit to me, but they didn’t turn into a bunch of pussies. They maintained their respect in themselves.
“What made you guys decide to get into the game?” I asked. “Are you users?”
“No,” Case answered as he continued to work on his paperwork. There was a fresh cigar on the table along with an ashtray, as if he smoked a great deal. The hint of cigar smoke was in the air, so he’d probably finished one before I arrived. “If we did, we’d be in the wrong business.”
“We prefer booze, cigars, and pussy,” Dirk said. “Nothing else.”
“We have an auction every Friday night.” I swirled my glass. “We debut the finest women for a high price. They are yours to keep and do with whatever you wish. I can extend you an invitation if you’re interested. It’s pretty exclusive.”
Case set down his pen and looked at me, his look of irritation undeniable. “I can get pussy just fine. And I find that criminal activity despicable. I have a sister and…” He looked away and shook his head. “I’m not interested. Neither is Dirk.”
I detected a hostile tone in the air. Case seemed more put off by that offer than when I marched in here and demanded my cut of their business. He didn’t even finish his sentence before he dismissed the subject altogether. “What happened to your sister?”
Case didn’t look at me.
Dirk was the one who spoke up. “We both know you don’t give a shit, Balto.”
“Well, I’m the most powerful man in this country—and I’m your ally.” I looked at Case. “Perhaps I can help you.”
Case turned back to me, his eyes not as hostile as they were before. He watched me for a long time, his eyes shifting back and forth slightly. “There’s nothing anyone can do. Not even you.”
11
Balto
I returned to the prison and watched the guards usher Heath through the door. Just like last time, they completed the entire protocol by cuffing him to the metal bar on the table and attached the chain between his feet to the hooks on the floor. In the ridiculous orange jumpsuit, he looked like a clown that had forgotten his wig and makeup.
The guards shut the door and left us alone.
My brother had a rougher appearance because he’d been in prison for over six months. I didn’t feel bad for letting him rot in there because he was a loose cannon. He had to understand what life was like without food, pussy, and freedom. He had to know what it was like to be bossed around by a man half your size with a baton. He needed a reality check to straighten out his act. I didn’t care that he was a criminal—but he needed to be a better one. He needed to mind the rules and get some class.
I was the most notorious criminal in this country—but I was also the most respected.
I played by the rules, I kept my authority through respect as well as fear, and I didn’t cause more problems than I fixed. I executed my enemies and never behaved like a pushover, but I also didn’t take lives needlessly. I didn’t provoke unnecessary wars.
Heath was a different story.
“Are you ready to come out and play nice?” My brother and I were so much alike that it would be easy to impersonate each other. Same eyes, same skin tone, and same musculature, it would be easy to fool anyone. But if you looked more closely, you would be able to see the darkness in the eyes, the exhaustion of the last six months. I, on the other hand, was living my best life, fucking pussy and drinking every night.
Heath didn’t tug on his chains this time. “Yes. Asshole.”
“Doesn’t sound like it to me.”
“I’ll behave—but I’ll never be your little bitch.”
“Everyone is my little bitch, so that’ll be difficult.”
Heath clenched his jaw, annoyed by my taunts.
“You’ll work for the Skull Kings and stay out of trouble. You understand?”
His blue eyes bored into mine.
“You can have as much booze and pussy as you want. Just don’t cause problems with anyone. And don’t question me in front of anyone either. If you cross me, I will have to punish you the same way I would punish anyone else—by death.”
“What if I don’t want to work for you?”
“Then what are you going to do? Because if you piss me off again, I’ll throw your ass back in here.” I paid off the cops and the prisons, so I could throw anyone in here that I wanted. Some men preferred to torture their enemies, but I thought confining someone to a long-term prison sentence was worse. It wasn’t so bad in the beginning, but once your stomach started to reject the food and your hand chafed against your dry dick, it began to feel like torture. The mind went next…and the body followed. I didn’t want to put my brother through that, but he was such a shithead that I had to. It was either this or I’d have to kill him someday.
“I don’t know.”
“You have no money or a place to live. So what’s your brilliant plan?”
He tilted his head. “You aren’t going to invite your brother to stay with you? You’ve got a four-story building all to yourself. Not to mention, you’ll be able to keep a damn eye on me—which is so important to you.”
I wasn’t his babysitter, and I didn’t need to keep an eye on him. I paid people to do that. “Yes, you can stay with me—on the third floor. So what’s your plan?”
“I don’t have a plan. Do I need a plan right this second?”
“I’m not going to let you out until you do. Do you want to make an honest living?”
“And make sixty thousand euros a year?” he asked incredulously. “Fuck no. The boredom would kill me. The only skills I have involve stealing, lying, fucking, and drinking.”
“Then the Skull Kings will be perfect for you.”
He rolled his eyes.
“Give me an answer, Heath. This doesn’t move forward until you do.” I knew he didn’t want to rot in jail, not even for another week. The only benefit he got from his jail time was his physique. He bulked up while behind bars because he had nothing else to do.