Lie (Betrothed 8)

It might work, especially if she was truly scared. She would look at me with new eyes, like I was her savior rather than her captor. She probably wouldn’t care about my problems with her brother. But that was manipulative and deceptive, and that wasn’t the type of man I was…at least not to a woman. I wanted a woman if I earned it, if I was the man she chose. I wanted her to get what she saw, to know I wouldn’t lie or play games. I wanted her to trust me, to know I was an honest man, just not a good one. “No.”

He shrugged. “You got a better idea?”

I shook my head. “No, unfortunately. I don’t think it’s gonna happen.”

“And you just accept that?”

I liked Steel’s determination because he got shit done. There was no obstacle that could defeat him; if there was a will, then there was a way. When it came to work, that kind of attitude was essential. But for something like this, it was inappropriate. “Yes.”

The men turned to the stairs when an outsider entered our lair. Tall, with dark hair and dark eyes, the guy had the audacity to grin when he stepped inside. “You’ve got a nice setup down here.” He glanced at a topless server as she passed with a tray then gave her a slight look of approval. “And nice tits.” He moved to the chair beside me and took a seat.

I knew his casual attitude was a poor attempt to deflect his fear. When any man was summoned to the Skull Kings, his heart beat a little faster, his adrenaline ran a little higher. I didn’t buy his relaxed demeanor.

He waved down a waitress. “What do you recommend, sweetheart?”

She knew he wasn’t one of us, so she wasn’t so kind. “Beer.”

“What kind?”

Her attitude was the same. “Beer.”

I interceded. “He’ll have what I’m having, Janet.”

She walked off, tits up.

He turned back to me, his hard features unmistakable. He looked at Steel before he looked at me again. “You called?”

I leaned forward and placed my hands on the table, getting close to him and making subtle threats with my proximity. “You can expect me to call whenever the fuck I please.” I could feel the men turn toward me once they heard my tone change. Only Janet was unafraid and delivered the beer like I asked.

He finally dropped the act.

“Ash, this is how it’s gonna work.” I didn’t give him the opportunity to speak because he would just be a smartass. “You’re going to give me a twenty-percent cut of your business every month. Don’t skim off the top because I’ll know. I always know. Don’t fight me because I’ll win. And I get special treatment with your girls.”

Ash wore a leather jacket with a dark pair of jeans. He had fair skin and a deep shadow along his jawline. His resemblance to his brother was unmistakable. He definitely had Lombardi blood. “Now I understand why Damien’s annoyed…”

“And he’ll be the first to tell you that annoyance was a mistake.” He’d almost lost his father, his sister, and his own balls. “In return, I offer services you can’t get anywhere else. Immunity against any enemies you could possibly have.”

He pulled his beer closer to him. “Enemies? I’m a pimp. Don’t have any enemies. I have the hottest chicks in the city who will do whatever you want for the right price. Trust me, I don’t have any enemies.” He lifted the mug and took a drink, and once he set it down, he gave his stamp of approval. “I’m not a beer guy, but that’s pretty good.”

“My girls brew it.”

“Damn, wish my girls did that…” He took another drink and returned the glass to the table when it was half empty.

“Are we gonna have any problems?”

He crossed his arms over his chest and dropped his gaze for a moment. “No. I’ve got more important things to do than fight you. But I can’t give you special treatment with my girls. Who they fuck is their decision, not mine.”

His business was unique because the women were employees, not slaves. They got an equal cut of the profits and simply used him for protection. “Fine.” I expected him to resist based on his relationship with his brother, but Hades had never been stupid like Damien, so I guessed it wasn’t that surprising. “That applies to both locations.” I held up two fingers, indicating his two residences. He started off in Rome, and when that was a success, he moved to Florence.

He shrugged. “Fine. Does that mean I can come in for a beer?”

“Are you one of the Skull Kings?”

“No. Can I apply? Is there a little form to fill out?” He looked around the room, half smiling like his mockery would go unpunished.