by Raven Scott
“C— ” His hand shot up to silence his brother, and Carlyle shot him a frosty glare as I turned off my phone display to watch. Mateo and Carlyle were full-blood brothers, but they obviously took after one parent more than the other. Mateo was tall and lanky, and Carlyle was built like me— broad, muscular, but a little shorter and stocky. Definitely not a guy I wanted to get trapped in an alley with, for sure.
“Theo.” Clenching my jaw as he turned to me, I didn’t dare blink as Carlyle scanned me through pupils narrowed into slits. “Go shut that bitch up so I can have a serious conversation with my kid brother. Don’t kill it— I agree with you on that. He wanted this, he’s going to suffer the consequences.”
Ah, he tapped into the audio. Of fucking course Carlyle tapped into the surveillance system before coming in here. Hoisting myself up, I left my phone and headphones on the seat to head upstairs. The closer I got to Sylvie’s room, the louder her gut-wrenching cries became. Popping open the door, I ground my teeth as the stench of shit, piss and vomit slammed into me.
I don’t know what the fuck Mateo was thinking, but no one was taking care of this girl. Honestly, it was surprising that she hadn’t suffocating on her own puke yet.
Tied to the bed, Sylvie was drenched in sweat, and her own shit covered her thighs and hips from her struggling. For some reason, she was naked, and vomit pooled in the hollow of her neck and crusted her short hair to her cheeks. My fingers tingled in disgust at the idea of touching her, and my stomach roiled as I searched the room for something. My gaze settled on a wide, square hairbrush, and my cheek twitched in foreboding. I better not get thrown up on. At least the first time was voluntary.
23
Illya
“Illya, can you come here a sec’?” Glancing over at Marcella, I nodded before twisting to smile at the guy sliding dollars bills into the neckline of my leotard. I excused myself, and he was too drunk to stop me from getting up as Marcella hovered by a small, round table. “You have a request from VIP four. Remember that guy that knocked me over? It’s him and his bodyguard again, and some other guy I don’t recognize. He’s pretty hot, though.”
“Ohhh, okay. Let’s go.” But Marcella grabbed my arm and shook her head, and my brows furrowed as my gut clenched in foreboding. “Don’t tell me I’m going in there alone. What did Roge say? He knows, right?”
“Of course he knows. He said he knows this stranger guy personally, and to not worry. But I’ll be in room three, okay. It’s empty right now. If you need help, just bang on the wall, okay, Illya.” She shot me a firm nod, and I glanced up wearily at the second-floor balconies that circled the entire second floor. Blacked out windows shimmered against the strobe lights, and the knots in my abdomen intensified. Shaking my head a little, I straightened my shoulders and licked my lips before starting for the stairs.
“At least, I’ll probably get some good tips today, maybe.” This week had just been so difficult for some reason, though, I couldn’t put my finger on why things had lulled so badly. Friday was usually booming, but the club was barely half-full as I glanced around. Of course, our regulars showed up, but that wasn’t a good thing because they were so comfortable that they tipped horribly.
Looking over my shoulder, I watched the guy I’d just been with drunkenly talk to his friends as he replaced me with some no-name prowler. Reaching back to pull out the crumpled bill from my leotard, I paused at the bottom of the stairs to scowl. Two one-dollar bills was all I got after listening to him for almost seven minutes complain about how his wife wouldn’t put out now that she was pregnant.
“Jesus, I need a better job.” I should invest in a laptop and learn some useful things myself. Maybe, I’d get lucky and find some free, online classes. Taking the stairs carefully in my four-inch heels, I rolled my lips as I tried to wipe the sourness from my expression.
Knocking on the door that led to room four, I waited for someone to open the door, and a little bubble of excitement floated up in my chest. Mateo, I wasn’t so keen on seeing again, but Theo and I seemed to have a real moment the other day. When the door swung open, I was hit with a sense of deja vu, and a bright smile automatically lifted the corners of my lips.
But it wasn’t Theo at the door, and I forced down the surprise that jolted my chest. The bulky guy that took over the whole entryway smiled warmly at me, leaning with his arm high, and I met his gaze firmly. He wasn’t taller than me in my heels, but the malicious glint in his eye was scary casual and sent shivers lodged between my shoulder blades.
“Aren’t you just the cutest.” The deep, dark purr rose goosebumps down my arms, and flames licked my cheeks when he held out a hand for me. “Come in.”
“What a gentleman.” His palm was warm and soft against my fingertips, and his smirk widened to reveal shallow dimples. The brightness in his eye flared, and I ignored the sudden urge to turn around and run away. I couldn’t pinpoint what this huge rift in his presence was, but I sure as shit felt it wrap around me to bristle the bridge of my nose.
“I understand that my little brother liked you the last time they were here. What’s your name?” My gaze flickered to Mateo to find him pouting on the sofa, and I arched a brow quizzically. I didn’t dare look at Theo, but his glaring burned holes into the side of my face. Only, it wasn’t his usual stare— it was a lot more dangerous— and the tension in the room could suffocate me if I tilted my head too far back.
“Illya. I’m glad I made a good impression.” Turning back to the stranger in the room, I smiled, and he released my hand to gesture to the sofa. “You know my name. Can I ask yours?”
“No wonder Theo likes you so much.” The fine hairs on the back of my neck stood up at the danger that laced his tone, and my eyes widened as I paused. Carlyle. Straightening my half-bent stature, I cocked my head as I scanned him. He wasn’t at all what I thought of, but that was not a good thing. “So, you know a bit about me, too.”
“What do you want? It’s a slow week, and I don’t have time to chat about Mateo being grounded for throwing a girl over the sofa.” My declaration earned me a hearty laugh, and my gut rot reached just under my skin to spread up my torso. Even Carlyle’s genuinely amused chuckling seemed split between nauseating threat and this easygoing casualty, and I tensed when he clapped a hand on my shoulder. His laugh stopped abruptly, and he pushed me back ever so gently to force me to sit on the sofa before plopping down next to me.
Leaning back as I struggled to keep a straight face, Carlyle flung his arm over the back of the curved sofa, crossed his knees, and heaved a dramatic sigh.
“You and I have a lot to talk about.” My eyes widened at his near-perfect German, and Carlyle’s light brown eyes seemed to rip into my soul as he rubbed his jaw thoughtfully. “Just like you know about me, Illya, I know all about you.”
Clenching my jaw hard, my eyelid twitched in agitation, and the silence stretched as I carefully debated what to say. I had no fucking clue what was going on. Why was Carlyle here? Was Sylvie okay? If Carlyle knew I spoke German, he knew that I was Sylvie’s roommate until recently. Shit.
I held out my hand palm up and wiggled my fingers, and Carlyle nonchalantly reached into his expensive, silk suit jacket to pull out a thin, plain, white envelope. He tossed it at me with a flick of his wrist, but I was quick, and his eyes narrowed on me with appreciation when I caught it.
“Let’s get right to business, then.” Switching one knee over the other, Carlyle drummed his fingers on the hard support of the sofa, and I nodded mutely. “Someone is lying to me. I want you to translate for me so I can figure out who it is.”
“You have your own translators. You came here to warn Theo that you knew about me, and that he shouldn’t fuck up.” I was really, really getting tired of being caught in the middle of drama I wasn’t supposed to be involved with, and I knew it shone in my voice. Standing up, I smoothed my little, thin skirt at my thighs and nodded firmly at Carlyle. “Bye.”
“Before you storm out, hear what I’m proposin
g. It’s not like you’ve got anything worthwhile to hang on to.”
“Whatever it is, I don’t want anything to do with it.” I didn’t get anything else out before Carlyle was up so quickly, so silently, that I didn’t even notice until he pressed a finger to my lips. He stood dangerously close, his eyes glistening with just as much admiration as annoyance, and my breath caught when he pinched my chin.
“That shit might work on others, but not me. Sit down.” He jerked my head back, and I stumbled a little in my heels as I fell back onto the sofa. Theo’s glare rose that hairs on my body, but I still refused to look at him as my eyes locked on Carlyle’s. “I set this up as an experiment to see if my little brother was capable of doing anything of substance. I hoped he would succeed— even a little, tiny bit. However, he failed miserably, and I’m tired of wasting money on him.”
Carlyle shot his brother the nastiest, most venomous sneer possible, and he dropped onto the sofa to sigh and propped his elbows on his knees. Rubbing his palms together, he cleared his throat and rolled his shoulders, as if he had to physically calm himself down. Anxiety flooded my veins, and my mind whirred at a mile a minute, not capable of figuring out where this was going.
“It’s true that I came here to passive-aggressively let Theo know he has a line to tow. I’m not stupid— I did my research on you, Illya. I don’t come into situations with half-cocked knowledge. I know your situation, and I know that Theo is at the end of his rope with Mateo. So, I figured if I was going to transfer him to my service, I might as well hire you.” Surprise lifted my brows and forced a harsh bark of laughter from my throat, and discomfort seared my veins as I shook my head viciously.
“Yeah . . . no. There’s no way I’d ever, ever move for a guy. That’s not happening. Even if I were going to consider it for the job— which you haven’t discussed about . . . ” Trailing off, I frowned deeply at the bemusement that flickered on Carlyle’s face. “If you’re offering me a job, offer me a job. Don’t think I’d pack up what little life I have and tromp around after Theo just because I blew him once.”
“As I said, I want you as a translator, Illya. It’s not that I don’t trust my own, but it’s never a terrible thing to have a second opinion. How many languages do you speak?” My eyelid twitched in irritation. Carlyle knew the answer to that question, but he wanted me to say it anyway.
“Six.” He shot me a sharp, expectant look, and I crossed my arms over my chest lightly with a huff. “English, Spanish, German, Italian, Russian, and French.”
“Yet you’re working here. Let’s just say I don’t appreciate wasted talent. Keep shaking your ass for dollar bills if you want and wallow in poverty, or make something of yourself. I’ll even sweeten the deal, because I’m at least partly at fault for not keeping my brother on a shorter leash.” Leaning back, Carlyle stared at me levelly, and a strange sense of foreboding flooded my veins. Whatever he was going to propose was going to be hard to turn down, and that sucked . . . a lot. “I’ll give you your own apartment to help keep you apart from the drama. Consider it a promotional gift if you take the job.”
24
Theo
“A promotional gift . . . right.” Skepticism thickened Illya’s tone, and she cocked her head as I tried and failed to contain the intense desire that rampaged through my body. Apparently, this whole uncertainty thing she had going on only pertained to me, and even Carlyle couldn’t break that with a glance like usual. Fuck . . . watching her keep her cool without the slightest sign of struggle, staring Carlyle down like he was just another scumbag in a club . . .
“I’ll let you pay your own bills, if it makes you feel more comfortable. Rent excluded, of course.” It occurred to me that Carlyle knew something about Illya that made him go so far, but I didn’t bother with that for now. He was going to ship me off to New York with him, and that was great! Not. “So, what do you say, Illya?”
Her name rolled off his tongue like butterscotch— thick and sticky and not very appealing at all once melted. Scanning her as she cocked her head, I cupped my mouth to hide my scowl as she frowned under furrowed, slender brows.
“I’ll think about it.” Carlyle nodded, as if he expected that reply, and stood up to huff in satisfaction.
“Good. Sleep it over, and I’ll stop by tomorrow for my answer. Oh, and I forgot to mention . . . ” Illya stood up, folding up her envelope with practiced ease, and I frowned darkly into the room. There was always something more with Carlyle, but he seemed genuinely miffed before he opened his mouth to her quizzical glance. “I’m leaving, but Mateo is staying here while I deal with his . . . mistake. Keep him company. I’m sure he knows where the ATM is.”
“Are you gonna kill her?” Posing the question instantly, Illya did a good job muting her expressions, but she knew she couldn’t hide them all or Carlyle would figure out why easily. Impressive.
“Well, of course not. That thing is probably wishing for it after being strapped to a bed rotting in its own shit for a week, though.” Frowning darkly, I tore my eyes off Illya as shame sloshed up my throat only to be beaten down by rationale. Knocking Sylvie out had been a blessing. All I did was knock her in the temple with the end of the brush, and there was some relief. Carlyle walked out of the VIP room, gently shutting the door behind him, and I lifted my gaze as Illya practically threw herself back onto the sofa. Her hands shook as she covered her face, and I shuffled over to sit next to her in the growing silence.
“What the Hell is going on?” Groaning loudly, Illya flopped to sprawl over my lap, and I clenched my gut as I struggled to force down my hard-on. Rolling onto her hands and knees, she pouted at me as my hands itched painfully to shove her face down. “You couldn’t have warned me?”
“I don’t have your number, remember.” Her bottom lip stuck out thicker, and I bit back a groan as I reached to caress it with my right thumb. “That was so sexy. I didn’t know you had some bite to your bark, Illya.”
“What does he really want?” The question had no answer, and Illya sighed heavily before sitting back on her heels to pull the envelope out of her sleeve. Before ripping open the side, she glanced at me, and I buried my two fingers in her hair to scratch her scalp. “Don’t worry about what I said, okay, Theo?”
“Said what? I was too busy trying not to storm over and fuck your brains out to listen to what you were saying.” Illya smacked my arm playfully, a soft smile stretching her lips, and my own twitched up as I leaned back against the sofa to cross my knees. “Anyway, how’d you know Carlyle would pay you just to listen to what he had to say?”
“Because a guy like that knows a lot of unsavory shit. I work here, so while I’m here, any interaction that he wants in his favor needs to be paid for. That’s probably why he chose now— it’s super slow, even for Friday, and it’d better his chances.” Unfolding the envelope to rip open the side carefully, Illya pulled out a check and groaned softly. “I don’t have a bank account. I’m gonna have to open one, which means getting an ID.”
“You can just get a Rush Card or something, though, right?” She only hummed at my suggestion, and I glanced over her orange hair at Mateo as he glared at his feet. “You just don’t wanna have a card on you, huh?”
“Yeah. I don’t really have a choice, though.” Noticing my gaze, Illya twisted to Mateo, but she didn’t linger too long before shaking her head. “What’s Carlyle going to do to Sylvie?”
“Honestly, I don’t think he’ll do anything to her.” Dark curiosity stained Illya’s pretty face, and I flopped my head back as I thought on that for a second. Carlyle was all about teaching his little brother not to be a little shit, so he hadn’t been lying— he wasn’t going to kill Sylvie. “I have a feeling that whatever happens will be worse.”
“I feel bad for her, but . . . ” I only shrugged at that. Sylvie was a bit of a stale topic, now. Shifting my weight to ease the pressure on my cock, I spread my legs before Illya crawled to straddle my thighs. My abdomen tightened, and I gingerly set my hands on he
r hips as she ground her ass against my bulge.
The honest to God truth . . . I couldn’t pinpoint why I didn’t bend her over. Gliding up her smooth back, my palms tingled wildly, and a numbness attacked my right hand. Illya was so damn sexy, but I just couldn’t make that jump. I wanted things to be even semi-okay, and she was neck-deep in misery at the moment. A small, condescending smirk tilted my lips as her words floated up in my head.
Was screwing her really taking advantage of her, or was not screwing her really the crime here?
Leaning against my chest, Illya blew a puff of hot air down my neck, and I closed my eyes to savor her heat. The questions fell away to simple enjoyment that this sexy-as-sin woman was on my lap, and she nuzzled my stubble with her cheek. Warmth suffused my body, and I reached to cup her face as the tenderness of the moment gripped my heart in a vice.
“I’m probably going to take this job.” Whispering in my ear, Illya’s voice thickened with distaste, but I heard the thread of resignation regardless. “He’s probably already got everything set up— otherwise, he wouldn’t have offered me that ‘sweet deal.’”
“Hopefully, you’ll be close by so I can sneak into your place and f— ” A soft, choked sob cut me off, and I tensed as my gaze whipped to Mateo. He was fucking crying hot, angry tears that streamed down the muscles straining in his neck, and Illya paused her movements. Mateo knew his brother better than me— probably had a much better idea of what was going to happen to Sylvie— but it was very apparent that whatever it was . . .
It’d be humiliating beyond belief for Mateo. He was about to learn the hard way that he can’t escape the consequences, or that things rarely happen how he expected.
“Anyway . . . ” Ignoring him, I turned back to Illya, and her brows twitched up expectantly as I gripped her hips. “When we get settled in, I’ll take you on a date.”