Page 13 of King of Temptation

On the bright side, I get to work my ass off to make enough money to retake Stilton’s class.

But I don’t see how this day could get any worse.

Then again, the universe can be a real jerk sometimes.

CHAPTER FIVE

Leo

One month later…

The girl in front of me twerks her hips, giving me her best come-hither stare and I try not to curl my lip. I don’t want to say the only emotion I feel is disgust but…

These women are all the same.

Bottle blondes with fake tits and even faker smiles. Don’t even get me started on the fake orgasms. I’ve slept with my fair share of them over the years.

Even before I took over the management of all the nightclubs for Kincaid Enterprises, I was around our clubs a lot.

In all, we own ten of them, but Temptation is our largest and most successful. So I am forever hiring new cage dancers to fill out our roster.

They bring in the crowds, which is why I pay them ridiculous amounts of money. But I also keep super stringent rules. No drinking, no drugs, and no hooking up at the club.

And that means, seventy percent of the girls wash out within a month.

I rake a hand through my hair as I make a note on my clipboard. I’ve got to be honest, I hate being a clipboard guy.

My father was a straight-up gangster, working for the Italian mafia until they killed him for sleeping with the boss’s wife.

That’s when Mason took over all Kincaid business. He’s made us legit and made the family billionaires. But some part of me was meant to be holding a pistol, not a flimsy piece of wood with a stupid metal clip.

Then again, following in his footsteps as a gangster likely means an untimely death and I’m trying to avoid that, but somehow, I seem to make a lot of the same decisions he did, which really pisses me off.

“Next,” I call as the girl stops dancing, scowling at me.

“Fuck you,” she spits before she turns on her heel and stomps off, picking a wedgy out of her ass from her too-tight dance leotard.

“Classy,” I mutter.

My uncle Jake, who is only a few years older than I am, turns his head, cracking his neck as he scoffs my way. “Since when do you care about class?”

I don’t answer. “Next,” I yell again.

Jake gives me a light push on the shoulder. “The only reason I’m here is to find a fresh piece of ass. You’re harshing the experience.”

I turn to glare at him. “We both know you’re here to keep an eye on me, which I don’t appreciate. And find your next hook-up at one of the casinos. The dancers aren’t supposed to be fucking anyone while they’re working. And family members are a definite no.”

“Hey,” Jake holds up his hands, his dark Kincaid hair pushed back from the strong features of his face. “I’m doing you a favor. If they break the rules with me now, you don’t have to process the paperwork later.”

I let out a grunt. “You’re a human resource nightmare.” To be clear, I don’t give a shit about any of that, but Jake is irritating me. I’m beginning to loathe this part of the job and he’s not helping.

He’s been around all the time lately, and I know why. My family is keeping tabs on me. Granted, they’ve got good reasons. I’m not exactly known for keeping my head and I’ve got a few ideas that might really piss some people off in Vegas. What my family sometimes fails to understand is that they need me stirring the pot to get rid of the shit that’s settled to the bottom of our world.

“And you’ve got a stick up your ass.”

The next girl enters from off the dressing room just as the main door swings open, my brother Roman striding into the room from the back at the same time.

Roman is a mini-Mason, polished, calculating, and if he’s here, I probably did something wrong. Do they know I’ve been spying on Toni Carcetti, watching his movements to learn his schedule, find his weakness?

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