Page 11 of Caged Bliss

More than once, Tommy has tried to fuck me. He’s not even subtle about it. He straight up says he’d happily cheat on my sister if I was ever interested, and he makes his gross incest threesome jokes all the fucking time, and all Serena ever does is smile and laugh and shake her head while I get all disgusted and skeeved out. Then Tommy sends me into the cage to dance, which is technically not in my job description, but I swear he does it to punish me for not giving him what he wants.

I hate it here. Most of the time, anyway. Some of the girls are cool, like Emma and Grace, but everyone else treats me like shit since I’m seen as the owner’s little favorite. It’s catty and dumb, but I’ve gotten used to it, like I’ve gotten used to everything else.

I sit with those two during my lunch break in an empty lounge on the second floor. We pick at salads and gossip about the clients, trying to guess what their secret kink is, which is our favorite pastime. Then Grace leans in and gives me this conspiratorial look.

“Did you hear? The old owner got out of jail and he’s been hanging around.”

I bite my lip and look away. Emma’s staring at her phone, only half paying attention. “I saw him yesterday,” I admit. “Angelo Bianco.”

Grace’s eyebrows shoot up. “Is he as hot as everyone says? I saw him from the distance and the guy’s built like a freaking gym god.”

“He’s okay,” I say, shrugging a little, trying to play it off. But he’s more than that. The guy’s sex on two legs, and I keep on obsessing about him every spare moment.

“Oh my god, you’re blushing.” Grace elbows Emma. “Look, she’s blushing.”

“She’s definitely blushing,” Emma confirms, only glancing up from her phone for a split second. “Don’t tease her too much.”

“I mention this Angelo guy and she turns bright red. Do you have a crush on him or something?”

“Absolutely not,” I say, seething. I hate that I can’t hide how I feel sometimes. “The guy’s like everyone else at this stupid club. He’s rich, entitled, and incredibly not my type.” But as I’m talking, Grace’s eyes go wide and she leans back into the couch, staring at the doorway.

I shut my mouth and look over my shoulder.

And I nearly scream.

Angelo Bianco’s staring at me. I can’t tell if he heard what I said. His face is serious, not angry, but very intense, and he’s staring right at me. His eyes feast on me for a moment, running down to my mouth, to my collarbone, to my shoulders, and back up again, and I swear the bastard licks his lips.

It’s the sexiest thing I’ve seen in my life.

“Sorry to intrude, but can I borrow Claudia?” He looks at Grace and smiles.

Fuck him. It’s charming as hell, and Grace eats it up.

“Uh, of course, totally, feel free.” She’s practically tripping over herself to pimp me out to this guy.

“Thank you.” He gestures at me. “Let’s have a talk.”

Chapter 6

Claudia

Iget to my feet, feeling wooden. Grace and Emma are both staring at me like I’m the luckiest girl in the world, but my guts feel like they’re going to fall out of my body. This is bad—especially if he heard what I said.

He leads me into the hall. Once we’re alone, I stop walking and hold up my hands. “Look, about yesterday?—”

He cocks his head, his smile gone. “The part where you insulted me, or the part where you looked like you wanted to murder Tommy?”

Oh, shit. My mouth drops open. I don’t even know what to say. How the hell did he know what I was thinking? Tommy made his gross joke and I could tell he was just trying to flex his power for Angelo, but it made me absolutely sick, and I guess I couldn’t hide it fast enough.

“I, uh, I mean, I don’t want to?—”

But he’s already shaking his head and walking away. “Come with me.”

I don’t have much of a choice. I follow Angelo to another lounge, this one set up with a huge game of Twister in the middle. Cushions line the walls alongside several tables with built-in drawers mostly filled with lube, condoms, and sex toys. If Angelo knows he brought me into one of our orgy game rooms, he doesn’t seem to care, only turns on me with an unhappy stare.

“Rich and entitled?” he says.

And I could die. Right here, right now, on this sticky, cheap vinyl floor. “I’m so sorry. You weren’t supposed to hear that.”

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