Page 53 of Satin Empire

“We’re all worried,” Mom says, which pisses me off, since she’s a big reason I’m in this position at all.

“I’m fine, okay? Don’t worry about me. Carlo’s a good partner, and we’re actually working on a business together.” I don’t know why I feel the need to defend him or why I’m telling them about the club, but I do it anyway. It’s the way they keep glancing over as if Carlo’s going to pull a gun and start executing everyone at any second. They see a gangster with a vicious reputation, while I see a guy playing with my little brother and getting along great with him.

We stay for another hour and leave before we get stuck having dinner there, even though Mom offers more than once. Carlo’s quiet in the car, and I sit back thinking about the way he seamlessly slotted into that house, winning over Niccolo, and charming Mom and Noah.

“They liked you,” I tell him, glancing over as he reacts, but his face doesn’t change. Only his head tilts slightly to the side.

“Could have fooled me. All those questions?—”

“They’re just protective, that’s all.”

“I understand. I want them to be protective of you. It’s important to have family that cares, right?”

“Sure, I guess.” I never would’ve said my mom necessarily cares about me, not in the way mothers are supposed to. She loves me, and she wants the best for me, but her love is always conditional, and the best comes with strings and subclauses and so much baggage that I can’t tell if it’s the best for me or the best for her.

“They did leave us with something to think about,” he says and there’s a sly smile on his face, which I definitely don’t like.

“What’s that?” I ask and immediately regret it because I walked right into his trap.

“We should start trying for that baby.”

I close my eyes and rub my temple. “Don’t start.”

“I mean it. Your mom was practically salivating at the idea of a grandchild. How amazing would it be to give her the ultimate gift? I’d be happy to fuck you raw right now.”

I am going to murder my mother, because he isn’t going to let this drop anytime soon. The bastard thinks it’s too damn funny.

“Your dick isn’t coming anywhere near me for a while, not if you keep talking about babies.”

“You sure about that?” His hand grabs onto my thigh and he’s showing his teeth. “I bet you have a breeding kink you don’t even know about.”

“What? No, absolutely not.”

“Your cheeks are flushed and your nipples are hard. Come on, you love the idea of getting fucked raw. You want me to fill you up with cum and leave you pregnant as hell, don’t you?”

And yes, okay, I’ll admit my pussy is wet and my nipples are definitely hard, and yes, the idea of him orgasming between my legs without a condom makes my mouth water, but I am absolutely not into breeding or whatever the hell that sicko’s talking about.

“Eyes on the road, you demented pervert,” I grumble and shove his hand away, which only makes him laugh.

Chapter 26

Alana

Carlo holds a cut-open chain link fence aside as I shimmy through. He follows, somehow managing to shove his bulk past a hole that was meant for a more normal-sized human. The ground is littered with rocks, debris, and broken grass, and there are weeds sprouting all over the place.

“It looks…” I trail off, trying to find a word that isn’t terrible, and land on, “Big.”

He beams at me. “It’s huge. You have to see the main space. It’ll take your breath away.”

“And give me cancer,” I mutter as we pick our way toward a rusty orange door.

The structure is in bad shape. Water damage hangs down the side of the wall and half the windows are broken, the other half covered in spray paint. There’s graffiti all over the place, a profusion of gang tags and goofy jokes. All the while, Carlo’s going on and on about the virtues of the place, how he can turn it around into something usable, how it’s got a ton of potential.

That’s the word he keeps using. Potential. Like if he says it enough, somehow the total dump of a building will magically transform into a cool nightclub before our very eyes.

He seems to think potential is the most important thing—while I figured maybe working plumbing is pretty high up there.

“I know what it looks like,” he says as he cracks open the door with a crowbar, grunting as if he’s barely trying. “But the location’s perfect. You can tell people come here all the time, I mean, look at how many bottles there are in the grass.”

---