“I want you to look into what Antonio’s been doing. Go back to Annemarie’s death,” I inform him, his head snaps in my direction.

“You think the Blaydon brothers aren’t the first mess he’s gotten himself into?” he asks in astonishment. “If this is something he’s caused…” he adds, his face turning red.

I hold a hand up to placate him. I can’t have him wringing Antonio’s neck—not without cause.

If he is the one who’s made enemies, it will be my hands doing the wringing. “I don’t know anything. I just want to be sure,” I tell him. “Keep this on the downlow.”

“This will devastate my mother.” He rubs at his eyes, inhaling a deep breath.

“She can’t know. Only you and I know—and it stays that way until we have answers.”

He jerks his head in agreement.

“And, Marcello…” I frown, pouring another glass of whiskey, “I want the ballerina gone. Fire her.”

I hate that she has to go, but if something happened to her…

“I’ll do it.”

Chapter Twenty-Six

Alyssa

“Scary, right?” Nathanial takes the seat next to me on the couch in the communal room, jolting my body with his movements. “One minute, you’re living your life, go to bed, and then you don’t wake up.”

My heart jitters in my chest as I look over the image he’s showing me on his iPad.

Two people dead.

Carbon monoxide poisoning.

“Apparently, he was a benefactor here.” He jerks his shoulder, resting his arm behind me on the back of the couch.

It’s the man from Vino’s, the one Luca put in his place.

Dead.

Thud.

He’s a benefactor here? How crazy would it be if he was mine? “What happens to the people his money pays for?” I frown.

Swiping across his screen to a new article he wags his eyebrow at me. “They don’t have to stroke his ego at the benefit Sunday. It’s a blessing, trust me.”

I would have hated if he showed up here and I had to be nice to him. I’m glad he’s dead.

Pulling an energy bar from his pocket, he unwraps it and points it in my direction offering me a bite. I shake my head, holding up my mug of soup.

“What are you doing tonight?” he asks, changing the subject.

I check my watch and get to my feet. “Actually, I have to pick up a dress and then I have a shift to cover tonight.”

“You work too much. All work and no play…”

“Means I get to eat,” I finish for him. Kicking his foot, I gesture to Jewel making herself tea in the kitchen with a tilt of my head. “You should take Jewel out. Aren’t you still dating?”

He studies me for a silent beat before looking over his shoulder in Jewel’s direction. “We were never official.”

“Does she know that? It’s not fair to string her along.” I tell him grabbing my bag.

Jewel’s a bitch, but ever since learning she has a mother who rides her back, I feel a kinship toward her.

“I’ll talk to her,” he assures me.

“Good.”

Walking to the kitchen I rinse my mug offering Jewel a small smile which she ignores. Maybe the kinship goes one way. I’m trying to build a bridge and if she wants to burn it down, then that’s on her, she can choke on the smoke.

Club S is nothing like I expected. It’s luxury. Black leather and silver velvet booths line the walls. Mirrored tables sit in front, bottles of champagne in the centre.

A runway platform extends out through the centre of the main floor. Crystal chandeliers hang like jellyfish from the ceiling, giving the room a soft glow.

It’s beautiful, and Hannah looks at home here, her elegant frame glides through the club talking me through what’s what. We get to the bar and a familiar guy is arranging bottles.

“Simon?” I say stupidly.

Hannah turns to me pointing her finger at him, “I forgot to tell you Simon will be helping out behind the bar tonight.” She says, rubbing her temples. “This is MJ, Katy, and Brittney. They’ll be serving drinks with you tonight.”

I offer an awkward wave to the blonde beauties in snug leather pants and corset tops that push up their breasts to form two perfect mounds with a valley between them, it’s like replicas of Hannah, maybe management had a type.

Or Mr. Leto does…

“Katy will show you where the uniforms are. You can wear a black tee if you prefer.” Hannah breaks through my internal ramblings.

A warm heat blossoms over my cheeks. I’m not a prude or a child. “The leather is fine.” I ignore the raised brow from Simon and follow Katy into a hallway with numerous doors branching off.

She stops at one labeled “Girls,” and pushes inside.

My mouth pops open at the dressing room. A wall of mirrors and vanity tables, shelves of shoes stacked from the ceiling to the floor, clothes racks overflowing with outfits, a shower room…

Tags: Ker Dukey Erotic
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