Muse in Lingerie (Lingerie 1)

When that woman overran my thoughts, I forced myself to focus on Carter.

Carter broke the kiss he was sharing with one of the girls and dropped his arm. “I need to take care of some business, ladies.”

The blonde gave his thigh a tight squeeze before she walked away with the other girl. Their lingerie shimmered under the low lights, and their heels tapped against the floor until they were no longer in hearing distance. The music wasn’t loud in this section, which was intentional. It was the best place to do business.

Carter wore a black suit with a matching tie. His dark hair was identical to mine, and he inherited the coffee-colored eyes of his mother. He hadn’t shaved for a few days, and now a shadow covered the bottom part of his face. We looked so similar that people mistook us for brothers on a daily basis. “I heard you have a new girl.”

“Where did you hear that?”

“The girls.”

Every model I had obsessed over who would get the biggest spotlight. Who would be on the cover of Vogue? Who would be my grand finale in the fashion show? Who would be the inspiration for my next piece? They all competed for my affection, trying to touch me in the right way or say the perfect words to capture my attention.

Maybe they were just trying to get ahead in their career.

Or maybe they just wanted to be my muse.

I didn’t give a damn because it didn’t matter.

No woman would ever mean anything to me.

“I’m not sure what I’m going to do with her yet.”

“Is she being featured in the show next weekend?”

“Maybe.” She still needed a lot of work. Her posture was better, but once she lost focus, she dropped her shoulders and slouched forward. She was a bit of a conundrum because she exhibited intense confidence when she talked back to me or told off some of my men, but when it came to modeling, she closed up tighter than a clam. When her clothes were off, she was even more beautiful.

But she felt uneasy.

It didn’t make sense.

It was the first time I’d had a model who lacked enthusiasm. Ten couldn’t care less about the opportunity. She didn’t kiss the ground I walked on. She had no problem calling me an asshole to my face.

It was an interesting change.

The only reason why she was there was because she needed the work to survive.

She didn’t give a damn about me.

Maybe that was what caught my attention.

Carter drank his gin then lit his cigar. “I heard she auditioned fully clothed.”

“That’s what I was told.”

“She sounds interesting.”

“She has a bit of a mouth on her.”

“For sucking, I hope.” He grinned before he inhaled from the cigar.

“Not that kind of mouth.”

“Too bad. That’s the best kind.” He took another drag before he set the burning cigar on the tray. His ankle rested on the opposite knee, and he leaned back as he glanced at the women hanging out on the balcony.

“How’s the car business?”

“No complaints. Not quite as sexy as your enterprise, but still great.” Carter was a designer and producer of luxury cars in Italy. He sold his cars all over Europe and exported a few to the US if people were willing to pay the right price. We worked in very different sectors of business, but it benefited us both sometimes.

“Working on anything new?”

“I’m always working on something new.” He drank his gin again then wiped his mouth with the back of his forearm. His suit was as expensive as mine, but he was so wealthy he didn’t bother taking care of it. “But enough with the small talk. We’ve got business to take care of.”

I rested my arm over the back of the couch and rested my ankle on the opposite knee. “I’m listening.”

“Ten million.” He leaned forward with his elbows resting on his knees. He massaged his knuckles as he stared at me with his coffee-colored eyes. His skin was fair, which contrasted more against his dark hair and eyes. His Italian blood was obvious, as was mine.

That was one of the biggest sums we’d ever been offered. “Who is she?”

“The daughter of some wealthy investor out in California. I guess his net worth is nearly a billion dollars.”

Nearly? Well, mine was over a billion dollars. “He can’t handle this himself?”

“The Skull Kings are crazy. I advised them against it.”

They were indeed crazy. They brought a whole new definition to the word. They were unpredictable and ruthless. They started as arms dealers, but when that didn’t satisfy their greed and bloodlust, they turned to trafficking instead. Now they captured desirable women from happy families—because they got off on it. They sold them at the Underground and made a fortune.

“This is getting dangerous, Carter. These guys are mad, but not stupid. They’ll figure out what we’re doing eventually.”