Page 112 of Arran's Obsession

I kissed him, earning a darkening of his eyes that suggested approval of my act. Then with the chief of security in tow, I took the lift up to the eighth floor and stepped into Arran’s apartment. A quick shower later, and I blow-dried my hair then applied a fast layer of makeup, keeping track of the time. Dixie started work at ten, and by the time I’d slipped on a high-neck fuchsia-pink baby doll dress, I had thirty minutes.

Pink for Cherry, because tonight, I was getting answers.

Outside the apartment, Manny was waiting patiently, and the two of us travelled back down to Arran’s office. He knocked for me, and Arran opened the door. Over his shoulder, I spotted four or five men clustered on the visitor’s side of his desk. Brutal-looking thugs, skeleton crew bandannas around their necks, tattooed arms, and even a glimpse or two of a holstered weapon.

Arran joined me outside, a box in his hand. Manny stepped discreetly away.

I tilted my head at the office. “Did the other gang follow you? Are they here?”

“I brought in a few people. They’ll monitor the entrances and provide backup if needed.”

All because of me. Embarrassed, again, I hid my face in my hands. Arran pulled them away and made me look at him.

“Are you scared? Don’t be. The man whose blood I’m wearing was a minor upstart who picked a fight with the wrong person. I doubt anyone would go to war for him.”

“You saidwas. As in past tense?”

His expression gave away nothing. “Figure of speech.”

I chewed my lip. “That man asked how my dad was getting on in his job. If he knew, and he’s a minor player, that means Dad’s definitely in with them, isn’t he?”

He brushed a thumb over my cheek. “Perhaps. Now hold still.”

Opening the long box, he revealed an item of jewellery. A necklace, or more specifically a choker, with lines of glittering stones at the top and bottom edge of a wide band, maybe two inches deep. It stole a piece of my dismay, blinding me with its shimmer.

Arran brought it to my throat. “Lift that pretty hair.”

Why was it every command, even innocent ones, did things to my body? I did as he asked, and the gang lord clipped the broad choker around my throat.

I touched it. The band was a fine metal weave, light but strong. “Thank you, it’s beautiful.”

“It’s for me as much as you.”

I didn’t get a chance to ask what that meant as Arran kissed me with a sudden ferocity that stole my mind and my breath. Just like that, he was done and back to work with his gangster buddies, and I had an exotic dancer to find.

In the lift, Manny checked our destination and pressed floor three.

“What’s on the other floors between three and eight?” I asked.

I wasn’t convinced I’d get an answer. People were tight-lipped around here, and I was still an outsider.

To my surprise, he readily gave up the information. “Floor four is a suite of private bedrooms. Five is where the cam girls work. Six is storage, and seven’s empty. On the other side, Divide’s high ceiling takes up four floors. For over two hundred years, this place was a bonded warehouse used for shipping. Did you know?”

He regaled me with facts until the lift doors opened, and we entered the corridor on the brothel floor. Blushing to think what Arran and I had done here, I trotted left on the plush carpet to the receiving room with the bar, drawing the attention of the first woman I saw. “Is Dixie around?”

“You’re Genevieve. Wow. It’s a pleasure. Follow me.”

The pretty woman with a London accent led me behind the bar, Manny keeping close at my back. Through a taproom, another corridor had a security room on one side and a dressing room to the other, several women readying themselves at brightly lit stations. Most wore very little, if anything. A degree beyond the strip club’s dressing room downstairs.

A topless Dixie hopped up and waved. “Perfect timing. Ooh, I love that choker. Come with me.”

She tucked her arm through mine, and together, we stepped into a side room with two sofas. Manny poked his head in then closed the door with him on the outside.

Dixie heaved a happy sigh. “Bitches be jealous that we’re besties.” She brushed her hand down her chest, then squinted down herself. “Oh, fuck. Titties are out. Sorry, hun. I didn’t even notice.”

I flapped a hand, unbothered. “Don’t worry, we’ve all got them.”

Her eyes brightened. “These are new. Do you like them? Cost me a bundle, but I made that back the first weekend I used them.”

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