Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 102184 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 511(@200wpm)___ 409(@250wpm)___ 341(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102184 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 511(@200wpm)___ 409(@250wpm)___ 341(@300wpm)
And when she told me she’d be dancing for the Chekov brothers, I saw red. We have talked to the Chekov brothers many times about touching my girls when they’re not supposed to.
There’s no way I’d throw Swan into that pit of danger without trying to stop her. Yet, she wouldn’t listen to me.
I’m her fucking boss.
And it’s like it didn’t even matter. Like she couldn’t even hear me.
She strolled past me, taunting me, saying, “Watch me.”
I’d never been so angry in all my life.
She traipsed off to the VIP room and left me seething, trying to control the fury as each second ticked by.
The only thing I could think to do was cut the power and kick everyone out so I could sulk in silence. I planned to tell Swan to leave as well. However, when I saw her gazing up at me with those pretty emerald eyes, I caved. Her words, ‘Watch me,’ haunted me. They still fucking haunt me.
I’ll never be able to erase the image of her dancing for me. It’s burned in my brain for eternity, and honestly, until this point in my life, I’ve seen nothing more sensual. She was nervous at first, but once she got moving, got grinding her hips…
Fuck.
I’m nearly sporting wood here at the table while I listen to my buddies and sister drone on about how no one is doing anything about the murders.
I lean back in my chair, needing to remove some of the weight from my shoulders. “There’s something I need to tell you guys.”
They all set their cutlery down and stare at me.
“Does this involve marriage or babies?” Ledger jokes.
“No. The night Ginger died,” I take a breath, “she came to my office.”
“What?” Roman asks. “Came to your office when?”
“I closed early that night because we didn’t have many people in the club, and things wrapped up by eleven. So, I sent everyone home early.”
Their eyes stay glued to me.
So, I continue, “I was getting ready to leave, just finishing the end of night reports when Ginger showed up at my door. She was acting weird, talking about how she’d liked me for a while. She came onto me—”
Roman cuts in, “Did you fuck her?” He sounds upset, and I don’t blame him right now.
This is big.
I shouldn’t have kept quiet about it. It makes me look more guilty.
I shake my head. “No, I didn’t fuck her. She pushed for it.” I clear my throat.
“What happened after you turned her down?” Ledger asks, keeping his demeanor calm. Unlike his brother.
“That’s the bad part. She was angry and said she was going to tell everyone I hurt her. I’d never seen her so livid before. Said she’d ruin me. So, I fired her.” I should have tried to calm her down. I should have done fucking something.
“Are you shitting me?” Roman asks, his voice rising with each word. “You fired her?”
“Yeah, she fled from my office, crying.” I hang my head just an inch. “I should have gone after her, but I’m an asshole who didn’t want to waste his time.”
Greer’s eyes fill with worry. “I wish you would have told us sooner.”
I shrug. “What good would it have done? Fuck, the cops already think I did it, I’m sure. Now you want me to tell them that Ginger threatened to ruin me?”
Greer sighs. “We know Ginger would never follow through on that. Once she got home, cooled off, and thought about it, she wouldn’t have gone through with the threats.”
“I think a part of me knew that. It’s why I didn’t bother chasing after her. I figured she just needed to cool down.”
Ledger’s eyes narrow, and I can see he’s doing the timeline in his head. I’m right when he says, “You said everyone left around eleven?”
I nod. “After everyone cleaned up, Ginger came up to my office, and she left just a little after midnight. Like not even twelve fifteen.”
“Where did she go?” Roman asks.
I shake my head. “It’s a mystery. But she didn’t go home.”
“We need to find out where she went,” Ledger says. “Have you asked the girls at work?”
“No, I don’t even want to bring up the murders. I know they’re all scared.”
“I think we need to get some answers,” Ledger says, giving his brother a nod. “And we need to do it now.”
“I agree.”
“Tell me,” I slam my fist against the jaw of Dimitri Chekov, enjoying watching his head fling back from the impact while I stand over him. “Did you have anything to do with the murders?”
The Chekov brothers live on the top floor of the Venetian Hotel. Their father owns the hotel, and the Chekov brothers have built their home base taking up the top floor for their own personal use. I’ve heard the cops have been called here more times than I can count because they’ve had to break up a party that got a little too out of hand.