by DL Gallie
She climbs into her black Mercedes and pulls out of the practice parking lot. Starting my car, I follow her keeping my distance and changing lanes to make sure she doesn’t know I’m following her. She pulls up to a restaurant and stops at the valet. She flirts with the pimply faced teenager and walks into the restaurant. A few moments later, Kye and Creed arrive.
Her face lights up when she sees Kye and what shocks me most is the kiss that occurs between Monica and Kye. I thought he only had eyes for Baylor. This development doesn’t sit well with me. I make a note to discuss it with her later. And speak of the devil, her ride drops her off at the front doors and she walks into the restaurant. Her head held high, showing just how strong she is.
From my spot on the street, I see that Baylor is unimpressed as she joins them. Grabbing my laptop off the passenger seat, I log into the surveillance system and hope that I can hear what’s going on. Baylor must have her phone on the table because I can hear everything clearly.
“Baylor, Sugar. Calm down,” Kye says.
“Do not fucking tell me to calm down. This bitch had her hands all over you.”
“That’s not all I had on him,” Monica says to Baylor, taunting her. Oh, how I wish I was inside to witness this scene unfold live. Right now, I’m imagining Baylor’s face turning purple, her fists will be clenched, and she’ll be biting her bottom lip in frustration.
“You are fucking dead,” Baylor seethes, “Either she goes, or I go.”
“There’s the door,” Monica throws at Baylor.
“Enough,” Kye growls. “Ladies, play nice. Baylor, we need Monica.”
“There are a million doctors in the world, I say we get another,” Baylor huffs.
“I quite like this one,” Creed adds, the tone of his voice chilling.
“Of course, you would,” Baylor snarks, “you like all the hoity-toity bitches.”
“What can I say, I have a type.”
“Thank fuck, I’m not your type,” Baylor says, and right now I’m imagining her crossing her arms defiantly.
“Well, now that’s out of the way. We have business to discuss.”
“I need a drink, if she’s going to be here,” Baylor snarls.
“Day drinking, really?” Monica says. “Why is she even here, Kye? Why do you need her?”
“She’s my queen. She’ll be by my side always. You can be replaced, Monica; Baylor cannot. There is only one queen and Baylor is it.”
“You say such nice things,” Baylor answers. “So what’s the plan, Stan?”
“Don’t ever call me that again,” Kye snaps, reminding me of when Baylor said that to me. “The plan is in motion, specifics are still being nutted out, but I need to know that the three of you are all on board?”
All three of them nod and say yes.
“Excellent.” Kye explains, “The world won’t know what hit it when this all comes to fruition.”
“Wanna fill us in on the specifics?” Baylor asks.
“All in due time, my queen. All in due time.”
They fall into general chitchat. I need to see Baylor so I take the opportunity. I exit my car and cross the street and head inside. Baylor sees me and her eyes widen, I nod toward the restroom as I take my seat at a table nearby, placing my back to them.
A few moments later, she walks by toward the restrooms. I order a drink from the waiter and after he leaves, I stand and follow Baylor. She’s waiting in the alcove just near the restrooms.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” she snarls at me.
“Getting lunch,” I nonchalantly say, “and—”
“I know, I know,” she sasses, “language.”
“Having fun antagonizing the good doctor?” She growls at me. “Are you jealous of her?”
“Pffft, please. There’s no comparison between her and me.” I agree, I silently think as my gaze roams over her. She’s wearing a deep purple dress and what I have come to realize, her favorite purple strappy heels. “Now, what do you want?”
“Yes,” a deep voice says from behind us. “What do you want with my queen?”
Turning around, I come face-to-face with Kye Vlahos. “I’m her contractor, Corey.” I stretch out my hand. Kye looks down at it, then to Baylor and finally, he shakes. Squeezing harder than necessary to exert his power. I don’t cower. I look him directly in the eye and do not waver. “I’m here meeting a potential new client and when I saw Ms. Evans, I thought I’d give her an update on the tiles. They were damaged in transit and there’s now going to be a delay. We will need to extend the completion date by a few weeks.”
“Ave will be upset,” Baylor replies, “but these things take time. I’m sure it will all work out in the end.” I get the double meaning to her words and nod.
“All the planning and waiting will be worth it in the end. You just need to keep your eye on the prize.”
“I’ve already got my prize,” Kye says, pulling Baylor into his side and kissing her temple. She smiles up at him but it doesn’t reach her eyes. I start to wonder if maybe this is too much for her. Did I make a mistake sending her in?
I realize they are both staring at me. “Well, I must run,” I tell them. “I’ll be in touch, Ms. Evans, when I know more.”
“Mmmhmpf,” she nonchalantly replies. “See ya.”
She takes Kye’s hand and pulls him away. They walk back over to their table, say their goodbyes, and I watch them leave. They really are a stunning couple and she’s playing the doting queen role well, but a feeling of unease is building. My gut has never let me down before, I hope this isn’t the first time it does.
11
Baylor
The following day, I’m lazing at home with a slight hangover. Okay, a massive hangover. After running into Cox with Kye, I was antsy and not feeling myself. After the meeting, I returned to the apartment and was happy to see Ave was home. Just like we did the other week, we spent the evening together. We shared two bottles of red wine, watched Ten Things I Hate About You—hello Heath Ledger—and threw together an antipasto platter for dinner. I think I was Greek in a past life because I could live off wine, cheese, olives, and cured meats.
The serenity of my morning is broken when I get a frantic call from Kye. He needs me to meet him at a restaurant downtown immediately. He tells me to dress provocatively in a skimpy slutty dress. Fuck him, I think to myself as I walk into my room and grab out a pair of skintight leather pants, a black halter top with a deep V and, you guessed it, my purple strappy heels. “Perfect,” I whisper to my reflection, before I add some nude lipstick and blow wave my blonde locks.
Not skanky-sexy like he requested, but I’m still fucking hot and that’s all that matters.
Grabbing my clutch, I throw in my lip gloss, gum, some cash, and I’m ready to go. On my way out the door, I order an Uber. I’m waiting on the curb when Kye calls. I answer on the second ring, “Hey!”
“Where the fuck are you? When I tell you to come, you come.”
“Calm your tits, asshole. I’m waiting for an Uber.”
“Why are you Ubering?”
“I don’t have a car,” I tell him. “I always Uber it.”
“Well, fucking get one,” he snaps, seems this will be a fun afternoon. “No queen of mine Ubers it.”
“Sure, I’ll just whip thirty-seven grand outta my ass and go buy myself a Mini Cooper convertible.” We both go silent just as my Uber pulls up. “My ride’s here, see you soon.” I hang up and mumble, “Fuck you,” to my phone as I climb into the car.
Staring out the window, I sigh. Cox was right, Kye is a sociopath, but I’ll raise the bar and add controlling dick-faced asshole. His actions are becoming unhinged, and to be honest, he scares the absolute crap out of me. He’s definitely not the man I knew and loved, but I don’t have a choice. I need to do this if I want to redeem myself, but at times like today, I question if it’s all worth in the end.
The car pulls up at the restaurant and I thank the driver. I look up and see Kye staring
at me from inside the restaurant. I smile but he doesn’t smile back and a sinking feeling develops in the pit of my stomach. Putting one foot in front of the other, I head inside. I repeat to myself over and over. “I’m tough, I’ll get through this.” And I hope to high heaven that I do get through this.
To say the afternoon with Kye was fun would be a lie. It was a shitshow from the moment I stepped into the restaurant, but I showed him that no one fucks with me. I think I finally proved to him that I’m with him one-hundred-percent, no thanks to Cox anyway.
Walking over to see Kye, I see Creed and two other men sitting at the table. “Gentlemen,” I say, as I take the empty seat next to Kye. His eyes roam over me and I see anger reflecting back at me.
“I said wear a dress,” he barks at me.
“No one tells me what to wear,” I tell him.
Reaching over to grab his drink, he grabs my wrist and squeezes. “Are you defying me?” he growls, increasing pressure around my wrist.
“This isn’t nineteen twenty, asshole. I will dress however the fuck I want. If you don’t like it, I’m quite happy to leave.”
The grip Kye has on my wrist tightens, it’s becoming painful but I refuse to show him that. Thankfully, one of the men sitting across from us breaks our Mexican standoff. “She’s a live one.”
Turning my gaze from Kye to the man, I raise my eyebrows at him in a ‘what the fuck’ way and at the same time, I pull my wrist free from Kye.
“And you are?” I ask, just as the waitress places a lychee martini in front of me. Looking to Kye, I smile my thanks and pick me drink. I take a sip and the liquor instantly calms me.
Licking my lips, I smile at the men as Kye introduces us. “Bay, my queen, this is Max and Bob.” Those names ring a bell, but they also cause me to laugh because they are dog names. “We are discussing a new business partnership. I was hoping you can help sway their decision to join forces with us.”
Placing my drink on the table, I turn to face Kye. “Are you whoring me out to Max and Bob?” My voice is cool and calm, but on the inside, Bitchy Baylor is raging. I’m no whore and he needs to remember that. He shrugs at me and that pisses me off.
Leaning into him, I breathe heavily on his neck as I slide my hand up his thigh. Palming his cock through his slacks, I increase the pressure. Licking up his neck, I whisper, “I’m no one’s whore.” I bite his earlobe and squeeze his dick hard in my fist. He clenches his teeth and hisses from the pain. “If you want me to be your queen, you need to remember that.”
Letting go of his cock, I turn my attention to the men across from us. “Now, gentlemen,” I purr, picking up my drink and staring across the table, “let’s see if we can come to some other agreement that doesn’t involve me and my virtue.” Taking another sip, I watch the men.
“I like her,” Max says to Kye, throwing a wink at me before he looks at Bob. The two of them have a silent conversation oblivious to myself, Kye, and Creed sitting here. I’ve nearly finished my drink when they turn their attention back to us. “You have yourself a deal, Vlahos,” Bob confirms.
While Max adds, “On one condition.” His eyes are locked on me as he says this and surprisingly, I don’t cower under his gaze.
“Anything,” Kye replies whereas I say, “Depends.”
Both men laugh. “We want her,” he points to me, “on the first drop. No Queen B., no deal.”
“As long as it doesn’t interrupt my schedule, or involve me on my back, I’m sure I can oblige.” I have no clue what I’m agreeing to but this could give me the intel that Cox needs, and it will also reaffirm to Kye that I’m on his side. He’s still keeping me at an arm’s length. I need to do something that doesn’t involve me sleeping with him. I won’t go there again, my legs are closed to Kye Vlahos. Even if he wasn’t a scary mafia king, that boat has sailed.
“Now, hold up a minute,” Kye interjects, slamming his fist on the table, the cutlery rattling from the force. “I’m the boss here. I have the final say in things.”
Turning my gaze to him, I sweetly smile. “And here I thought we were in this together, babe.”
“Uh-oh, trouble in paradise,” Creed teases.
Kye growls and turns his attention back to me. “You may be my queen but I am the motherfucking king. I have the final say.”
“Whatever,” I nonchalantly reply. Leaning back in my chair, I cross my arms, unintentionally pushing up my breasts. Four sets of eyes drop to my chest. Men, I think to myself as I lean forward, showing off the girls even more. If I lean forward any more, my nipples will be showing. I’m not prepared to whore myself but I will be a dick tease.
After a few more seconds, I reach out, pick up my martini, lean back, and sip. The titty show is over, boys. The four of them watch my movements intently. Looking at Kye, I see anger and lust reflecting back at me. Max and Bob are still staring at my tits; I see hunger in their eyes but also fear. They don’t want to cross Kye, but at the same time, they are men, thinking with their dicks when the hint of boob is placed before them. When I look over to Creed, I shudder. His eyes are glued to my chest and the creepy fucker is licking his lips. Whereas Bob and Max’s glare is playful, Creed’s is deranged and dirty—I really hate that fucker.
Biting my lip, I hold back my smirk when Kye smiles. Finally, I am the fucking queen Kye wants me to be and I have four hapless pawns trapped in the valley of my breasts.
The word pawn takes me back to a conversation with Cox and for the first time, I think that he’s right. I can do this, I can bring down Kye, and I will do whatever it takes to do so.
The next few weeks are much of the same: lunches with associates, new and old. Kye parading me around like a shiny new toy, showing off his queen to his minions.
In public, we are the ultimate power couple but behind closed doors, we live separate lives. There has been no further kissing Kye, or Cox, and I’m pretty sure he’s still fucking that doctor bitch, but I don’t care. At the end of the day, I’m his queen and that’s all I need to be to get this done.
Besides, I’m lusting after the one person I should not be lusting over, Corey Cox.
Each night, as I drift off to sleep, I have inappropriate steamy dreams starring my sexy but annoying agent. I wake up and pleasure myself, whispering his name as my fingers bring me to climax. My digits are getting a good work out at the moment; maybe I’ll need to invest in a B.O.B to give them a rest. Nah, it’s the real deal or nothing for me.
After our meeting this week, Cox seems impressed with the intel I’m gathering, but it’s still not enough to bring everything crumbling down around Kye. I’ve fully gained his trust now, but some days I feel like one of his lap dogs. Being at his beck and call. Dropping everything when he calls and running straight to him, well, driving to him in my new navy blue Mini Cooper convertible. A perk of being his queen, as well as a stylish new wardrobe.
After the Max and Bob wardrobe argument, he sent me on a shopping spree with a predetermined list of clothes. Thankfully, he wasn’t with me so I could get the requested items but in the style I like. I’ve never had such an amazing wardrobe before, totally makes up for Creed being around.
As Cox promised, I’m safe and we have been able to keep up the ruse of him being my and Ave’s contractor. Not sure how much longer we can use that cover but fingers crossed, I won’t have to do this much longer because Kye is starting to scare me with his behavior. Cox was right, the power and control is going to his head. I need to end this and I need to end it soon. The sooner, the better,
12
Corey
It’s been almost three months and I’m no closer to bringing down Kye Vlahos. The list of associate names I’m gathering from Baylor is great, but I need that smoking gun. I need that one piece of evidence that will close this close, bring it to an end, and put Kye behind bars for a very long time. The only downfall to that is my time with my Kitten will come to an end. As much as she is a pain in the ass, she’s also intriguing and has piqued my interest.
We’d never work out as a couple. She’s wild. I’m not. She’s a criminal. I’m a law enforcement officer. We are two opposites, and there’s the little fact she hates me. There’s a fine line between love and hate, and we are teetering precariously on that line.
Throwing the file onto my desk, I rub the back of my neck in frustration. I’m starting to lose hope that this is going to work. I begin to wonder if sending Baylor in was the right thing to do when I’m given the Hail-fucking-Mary of all Hail Marys.
A knock on the door grabs my attention and I look up to see Oats standing there with a goofy grin on his face. “Hey, what’s up?”
“Creed Dawson was arrested for assault.”
“Come again?” I say, totally shocked at what I just heard.
“He attacked his ex-partner, Cressida Bayliss, earlier this evening.”
“Shit, is she okay?”
“She’s extremely lucky. Her mom happened to be driving past when he attacked. Mom called the current boyfriend and he managed to get there in time. Dawson was about to rape her.”
“Fucking hell. I knew he was a psychopath, but that’s just nuts.”
“Thought you might want to talk to him, see if you can get anything from him regarding Vlahos and his plans.”
“Yeah, thanks. I’ll be right there.”
Leaning back in my chair, I grin. Creed Dawson’s arrest could work in my favor. If he’s as delusional as Baylor says he is, I’m willing to bet my left nut he will sing like a fucking canary to reduce his time.
With a pep in my step, I walk into the interrogation room, his eyes widen when he sees me. “You,” he snarls, “you’re Baylor’s contractor.”
“One of my many jobs,” I tell him, as I take a seat across from him. “So, Creed, I have a proposition for you.”