Ace of Hearts (Vegas Underground 3)

Yeah, violence is in my nature. It’s in my genes. It was woven into my childhood and became the steel in my backbone the night I begged Don Tacone to take me into La Famiglia. Doing their dirty work hasn’t wrecked my soul because I lost it long before I was made. But it’s been easier this last decade in Vegas. We don’t break the law—much. Nico runs a legit operation here. I haven’t shot a gun in years, except at the range to practice. I’m able to make my threats real through the power of my size, the way I speak, and the reputation of the family I stand with.

But this situation calls for follow-through. Hugh deserves a beat-down for pulling this shit on me, for sure. The trouble is, when I think about bloodying his face, all I see is Pepper Heart’s fury. Her anger with me. Her indignation.

Shit! Am I really considering going easy on a guy who deserves all the shit I can give him because I want a girl to like me?

That’s asinine.

Since when do I care about women, other than protecting the ones who work here and satisfying the sexual itch now and then?

I don’t do relationships.

I can’t.

Not with my history. Not with my childhood. All I have to do is remember the way my mom looked at me the night everything changed, and I know no woman could ever accept me. No woman should ever accept me.

I’m a monster without a soul.

No one close to me would ever be safe.

Chapter 4

Pepper

I wake up feeling humiliated as hell about what happened between me and Tony Brando.

If he had actually gotten me off, that would’ve been one thing. But he left me hot and bothered. As it turns out, sexual frustration is an excellent energy source. I should remember that next time I’m dragging my ass before a performance. I couldn’t fall asleep for hours because my tingling ass kept my lady parts needy. I finally resorted to masturbation, but even still, I didn’t get the relief I craved.

Hugh texted me last night asking what Tony Brando wanted.

As if he didn’t know.

As if he wasn’t hiding from the enforcer last night, leaving me to take the fall.

I didn’t answer his texts because I figured he deserved to sweat. He knows I survived the encounter. The rest I’ll let him guess at.

A knock comes on my door at 10 a.m. Room service has already come, so I don’t know who it is. Anton’s room is next door, though, and I hear his door open to check on the visitor.

“What is it?” he grinds out in his deep voice.

“I have a message for Ms. Pepper from Mr. Brando.”

I open the door to face the concierge in the hall. “Yes?”

“Mr. Brando asked that you be ready in thirty minutes to fly to Los Angeles. He booked you an appointment with the top laryngologist there this afternoon.”

It’s probably my smarting ego that makes me stubborn. Or maybe because, after last night, I’m not as afraid of Brando as I probably should be. But I’ve been on the road for months. I just rolled into town yesterday afternoon and performed last night. I’m sick, my body is exhausted and the last thing I want to do is get on an airplane—even if it is to see a specialist.

I fold my arms across my chest. I have to clear my throat twice before any sound comes out. “Tell Mr. Brando I’m not up for traveling today. I’m going to rest so I can give a good show tonight.”

The concierge inclines his head. “I will let him know, Ms. Heart.”

Anton flicks his brows and shrugs at me. I'm guessing he already knows the score because he, too, was conspicuously absent yesterday when Brando showed up.

Ten minutes later, my door opens without a knock.

I was sitting on the patio with my earbuds in my ears, but I shoot up the minute I see the large figure enter.

My pussy instantly clenches, like it recognizes that this man—and apparently only this man—is the one who can satisfy the ache still there. My stomach is also aflutter because, I realize now, I purposely goaded him into showing up.

I open my mouth to speak, but he holds up a hand. “Not a word. Not a goddamn word.” He shoves a notebook and pen in my hands. “If you have something to say, you’re gonna write it. If I hear you trying to talk, I’m going to turn your ass red again.”

I glare at him as heat rushes to pool between my legs.

“Put your shoes on and get your I.D. You’re going to L.A. to see that doctor. Now you find out what happens when you tell me no.”

I stand there, staring at him. Tragically, my body wants very much to find out. My nipples burn as they tighten up.