The Devil’s Lair (De Kysa Mafia #2) Read Online Penny Dee

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Dark, Mafia Tags Authors: Series: De Kysa Mafia Series by Penny Dee
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Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 86883 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 348(@250wpm)___ 290(@300wpm)
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“I didn’t know.” I frown. “I’m sorry.”

“Did you go into any of the rooms?”

I pause for long enough that he puts two and two together.

“For fuck’s sake. Guests pay for privacy. You don’t enter a room without invitation, got it?”

Wanna come play, baby girl.

A new wave of heat spreads through me.

“I knew you would be trouble,” he mutters.

“I didn’t know about the peep rooms.”

“Everyone in this city knows about the peep rooms.” He frowns. “Get back to work, and don’t let me catch you this side of the club again.”

With flushed cheeks, I walk away and head back to the bar where it’s growing busy again.

Was I so busy fucking up my new job I didn’t pick up on what kind of club this was?

While I pour a whiskey and soda for a customer, I side-eye Natalie.

“Happy?”

She smiles smugly. “Very.”

I turn away to serve another customer.

She’ll keep.

10

BIANCA

It’s two a.m. by the time I leave the club and head home.

Home is a fleabag motel just out of the city. A single-level dump with rooms by the hour and an interior décor that dates back to the seventies.

I don’t even bother with the light. Even with the lights out, the room glows with unnatural red light from the neon vacancy sign.

Feeling deflated, I sit on the edge of the bed and let my shoulders sag with fatigue and the overwhelming reality that is my shitty life.

I lie back and shove a pillow over my face.

Harrison fucking Tork is going to pay for this.

A sudden noise from next door tells me Rosa, my sex-worker neighbor, has a client with her, and by the rapid banging of the headboard against our communal wall, he’s going hard at it. “Call me daddy,” I hear him pant. “Call me daddy, little girl.”

I pull the pillow tight around my ears and wonder how the fuck life has come to this.

My other neighbor is an old rocker who used to be a roadie for some major band in the nineties. I don’t see or hear much of him because he likes to keep to himself, but he seems nice enough. By now, he’ll have cooked his heroin and gone on the nod.

I jump when the banging headboard turns into a rapid pounding against the thin walls.

“That’s right, you bad girl, take daddy’s big dick.”

If I weren’t so tired, I’d cry. Surely this is the lowest of the lowest point in my life.

A knock at my door makes it through the layers of pillow around my ears, as does Rosa’s client, who isn’t quiet as he comes.

“Ahhhhhhm take my load, you bad girl, take daddy’s load.”

Nausea rises in my gut when I look through the peephole and see who is on the other side of my door.

Snake. The manager.

I huff out a rough breath and try to summon the strength to deal with him as I open the door.

“Snake,” I say with a fake smile. “It’s late.”

“I was up watching my shows. Saw you pull in.”

Snake is the reason I check for hidden cameras in my room, especially in the bathroom. Although, I’m probably giving him too much credit. He’s not what I’d call motivated. Certainly not in self-care anyway, if his stained singlet and yellow teeth are anything to go by.

“What do you want?”

“Just to see how you’re settling in. I do that for my long-term guests.” His eyes roll up and down my body, and I swear they leave a trail of slime in their wake. “Thought I’d check up on you, make sure you is okay. This side of town can be hard on a sweet girl like you. Lots of shady people doing lots of shady things.”

Despite the nauseating scent wafting off his unwashed body, I plaster a smile on my face. “Thank you for your concern. But I know how to take care of myself.”

His eyes flare, and I can only surmise he’s misinterpreted what taking care of myself actually means. He licks his lips and gives my body another lewd sweep, and I know he’s picturing me taking care of myself. “Is that so?”

He adjusts the front of his filthy jeans and I want to puke.

“Well, it wouldn’t be the first time I’ve had to use my Beretta. In fact, I’m pretty handy with it. Better still, I’m not afraid to use it.”

Snake gets the warning. But I think it excites him.

“You is a feisty one,” he says with a lewd chuckle.

“You know what else I am, Snake? I’m a good shot. You might want to remember that the next time you knock on my door in the middle of the night.”

He straightens and holds up his hands. “Whoa, lady. I was just being friendly is all. No need for you to get the wrong idea. I only wanted to let you know I’m just over there if you need anything.”


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