Series: The Rossi Crime Family Series by J.L. Beck
Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 67931 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 340(@200wpm)___ 272(@250wpm)___ 226(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67931 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 340(@200wpm)___ 272(@250wpm)___ 226(@300wpm)
I walk back into the living room and realize I’ve left the joint from last night on the coffee table. I lean over to grab it, and that’s when I see her—her small body lying in the recliner. She’s curled up in a blanket, her eyes closed and face relaxed, making her features even more beautiful. Her lips are slightly parted, and I’m reminded of the kiss we shared. I still don’t know what came over me when I kissed her. All I know is I wanted to do it then, and I want to do it again right now.
Like the creep I am, I stand there, feet away, and watch her sleep. She’s so at peace, so fucking perfect, it’s insane. I wonder for a half-second what it would be like to have her as mine. As soon as the thought enters my mind, I shut it down.
I’m Damon Rossi. I don’t do love. I don’t do mine. Nothing lasts forever in the world I live in, and Keira is too weak to survive it.
But she’s damn nice to look at. I don’t know how long I stand there, staring, watching every breath that fills her lungs. The sudden ringing of my phone pulls my attention away from Keira, and I swear the damn ringtone has never been so fucking loud. Kiera practically jumps from the recliner, the blanket covering her moments ago hitting the floor. Her movements make me jump a little too.
I don’t even check the caller ID. I hit ignore and stuff the phone back in my pocket. Whoever it is can wait. I have more important things to assess to right now.
“I have business to attend to at the club. Let’s go.”
Keira eyes me cautiously, as if I’m a rabid animal that could attack at any given second.
“Why do I have to go? I don’t like it there.” She frowns, still breathing heavy from being scared by my ringtone.
“This shit again?” I roll my eyes. “How many times do I have to tell you how this works? I order you to do something, and you fucking do it! No questions asked, no comments, no whining—a whole lot of actually fucking doing what I tell you.” Fire burns through my veins. I’m not used to this shit, to people not doing as they’re told, when they’re fucking told.
I take a step toward her. This time, she doesn’t scurry away from me. “I don’t give a fuck what you like or don’t like, Keira. If you want me to protect you even a little, you will start to listen to me. Now, put your fucking shoes on before I drag you out of here barefoot.” She visibly gulps, but doesn't say anything. In fact, for fucking once, she listens.
We drive back to the club in silence. I watch her out the corner of my eye and can tell she’s nervous by the way she fidgets with her hands in her lap.
A tiny smirk pulls at my lips. At least she's not as terrified as yesterday. I ponder if that's a good or bad thing. Part of me knows she would be better off being scared of me—like the rest of the people in my life.
The neon lettering of the Night Shift sign comes into view, and I tell myself I need to leave all my personal shit at the door. This is my place of business, and that’s all it can be. People need to view me as the boss and nothing else. Weakness is not an emotion I can afford to show—not for anyone.
“Why a strip club?” she asks, breaking the silence as I pull into my parking spot. What a dumb question. Why not a strip club? What else would I open up? A fucking bakery? I ignore her question and cut the engine.
“Listen up, doll. We’re going to go in there, and you’re to follow behind me like I have a fucking leash around your neck. If you don’t, I might actually put one on you. You are not to talk to anyone. Don’t even make eye contact with anyone too long. Then you’re going to sit on the couch in my office and look pretty. Don’t fucking talk to me, and don’t fucking talk to anyone who comes in to do business with me. You got all that?”
Her brown orbs blaze with fire.
Her anger makes my cock hard. I want to see her angry more.
She opens her perfect mouth to say something, but stops when I hold my finger to her plump lips. “I give an order…you do it! Nod if you got it.”
She nods slightly, her lips trembling. There's still heat simmering in her eyes, but it's significantly diminished.
I turn, dismissing her, and get out of the car, waiting for her to climb out so I can lock it. Without looking back, I march through the back door and walk my usual round through the club. I know Keira is directly behind me, following like a lost puppy. I can feel people staring at us. They're probably wondering who she is and why the fuck she’s following me around.