I would have killed anyone else for those words, but Joey is my brother, and because of that, he gets chances.
Chances that are rewarded to him and only him.
Our mother lives in an apartment on the upper east side. I pay for everything, her cooks, and people to be at her beck and call, even though she has her own money. While my father is buried under ten feet of dirt where he belongs.
The day I got that call, I was young, only twenty-one and not ready for the responsibility that came with it.
Joey and I were at a strip joint, the day before I had to work with my father, and he made me shoot one of his men simply because he betrayed him. My father told me it was another lesson for me to learn and remember.
You kill those who betrayed you.
No second chances.
Zero.
My father tapped me on the shoulder, then told me to fuck off after I did what he asked.
Joey knew, he was out the front waiting for me, and when I walked out, he declared we should go and get fucked up and watch some tits bounce.
I was halfway through my second bottle with a girl on my lap and another trying to kiss my lips. These women knew who my family were and wanted a piece of the forbidden fruit. I didn’t care who they were, all I wanted was pussy.
My father told me to fuck who I wanted but marry only who he said. So I did just that. Fucked every chance I could get. It was the only thing he didn’t dictate to me—where my cock went—that was until the day I got married. But even then what did it matter when others didn’t care.
I’d never seen a healthy relationship—my own parents didn’t have one because my father controlled everything and that’s that.
“Keir.” Joey pushed the stripper away from me, so I glanced at him over my shoulder—his face deadly serious. “We need to go.”
I remember those words clear as day because his next words changed my life.
“Papa’s dead.”
I never shed one single tear at his funeral, and we never found the asshole who shot him. Even with all the resources at our disposal we couldn’t find them.
My mother cried, even though she shouldn’t have.
Everything my father was went to me. I became the king of the mafia, and my life was forever changed. And I wasn’t sure if people realized the extent of his teachings and if they were ready for another iron fist ruler.
Glancing back at Joey he’s the only person I trust, but that doesn’t mean if I had to, I wouldn’t kill him.
If he ever betrays me, he will join him under the ground.
Two servers come out and place plates of food in front of us. Everyone at the table waits until I lift my fork before they do. The boss always eats first—it’s a sign of respect in this house.
“Is there something wrong with your food?” I ask her as everyone starts to eat. She’s sitting there doing nothing, staring at the table in complete silence as if she didn’t even hear me.
Everyone stops talking, and a hush fills the room as we wait for her to answer. My fingers squeeze the utensil in my hand hard enough to leave an imprint while I wait.
“I …” She shakes her head. “Nothing is wrong,” she finishes. She picks up a piece of bacon and places it into her mouth. I watch as a look of disgust coats her face when she chews it. Everyone’s eyes are glued on her, confused by what’s going on, but I know exactly.
“You’re a vegetarian?”
When she doesn’t answer me, my fist comes down hard on the table. She jumps in her seat while everyone else remains still.
“Yes. Yes, I am.”
“Do you not like bacon? I have some real good meat for you to try later.” Roberto winks, and she jumps away from him and almost falls into Harry as everyone laughs at her reaction. Harry leans away, careful not to touch her as she rights herself.
Tapping my hand on the table, a server comes out, and I nod to Sailor’s plate, which she quickly takes away.
“Use your fuckin’ words next time,” I snarl at her.
She drops her head down as everyone continues to eat, effectively ignoring her.
She doesn’t make a sound, nor does she move for the rest of the meal.
I can see why Dillan used her.
It’s simple.
She likes to be used.
Maybe even abused.
We shall see.
Chapter Six
Sailor
After breakfast, I was escorted back to the room and told to stay there.
I did.
All day.
I was brought fruit for lunch, and I somehow managed to sleep during the time between the meals. I’m sitting at the window, looking out at the water, when the door to the room is opened.
“Miss.” I turn to see the young boy from earlier standing there. “Would you like to go to the beach?” he asks me.
“Am I allowed?”
“I was given permission to take you down if you want to go.”
“I’ll stay, thank you.” I turn away from him and go back to staring out the window, my thoughts a jumbled mess as I continue thinking.
Did Dillan love me?
Or was I nothing to him?
Was I always nothing?
When you are alone with nothing but your thoughts, it makes you wonder about a lot of things. Makes you think of things you wouldn’t normally waste your time on when life’s distractions are there to occupy your mind instead.
A feminine giggle reaches my ears, and the door to the room is pushed open. I stay in my spot at the window as a girl with long black hair enters wearing a short black dress. She walks in, spots me, then pauses. Her teeth basically show as she goes to growl at me but stops when Keir steps in behind her.
“You have company,” she says to him. “You know how I hate to share you.” I look away and stare back out the window. I don’t want to be a part of this conversation or anything that may or may not happen behind me. Fuck that!
“Get to your knees.” My back straightens at his command, but when I glance over my shoulder, I see he’s not talking to me but to her. His eyes are only on me, though. I look away, quickly, not wanting to be involved as I hear her undo his zipper.
I’m not a nun, I know what she’s about to do, and a part of me wants to turn back around and watch, but the better part knows not to. Instead, I listen.
“Look.” I know his voice is directed at me this time. I can feel it in my bones by the way he speaks—it’s cruel, deliberate, and meant to convey his power. Slowly, I move to face them, my eyes falling to the tiles before they reach her black heels, then slowly skate up her dress until I see his hand on the back of her head, directing her mouth on his cock. Her head bobs up and down, up and down, as she sucks him thoroughly.
Those dark, wolf-like eyes stay on me. He smirks when I tighten my lips and give a look of disgust, like it’s the reaction he’s after, and then grips the girl’s hair tighter, slamming his cock into the back of her throat. I can hear her choking, but he doesn’t stop. He licks his lips, eyes going wild as he continues to fuck her mouth, and all the while, the woman on her knees grips his hips and takes whatever it is she can get.
What the hell is happening?
And why am I watching?
But the most important question is, why are my nipples hardening beneath this dress at what I’m witnessing?