Page 75 of Baby Duke

Clearing his throat, Brute lowers his eyes again and winces. "And you, Master Mazzuchelli, will be Baby Duke."

Instantly, I'm in his face. "The fuck did you just call me?"

Brute's chest shudders against mine. Now who is the baby?

"Boss said…" he trails off.

I snort, pushing Brute aside as I storm into the bathroom and slam the door behind me. I lean against the vanity, my knuckles whitening as I clench them tightly against the pristine surface. Of-fucking-course, he would do that. How he knew Roe's pet name for me in the first place was beyond me, but the fact that he has now used it against me has my blood boiling. How I hated that nickname the first time Roe called me it, though, I must admit, I have grown fond of her pet name for me. Especially when I am buried balls deep in her cunt.

But myfatherusing it? What the fuck is he playing at? Is he trying to belittle me? Put me in my place? Let me know what he really thinks of me?

I pull out my phone, annoyed that there is still no message from Roe. She did say she would let me know when they were in the penthouse. Pissed at myself for not getting Trent's number beforehand, I sling Roe a quick message.

West: Heading into the lion's den now

I wait a few seconds for a reply before chiding myself for being a whipped cunt and pocketing the device.

Returning to the others, I find Brett and Law have each donned a black mask and are standing by the door with Brute.

He hands me my own mask, identical to that of Brett and Laws; a half mask designed to conceal the top half of our faces and, supposedly, our identities with it.

"Why are our masks different?" I ask, slipping the mask in place.

"The full masks are for Staff only. The lady visitors wear white. Boss and his second, Sir, are the only guests allowed to remain unmasked," Brute explains.

I grunt in acknowledgment.

"Let's do this," I say.

We bypass the guest elevator and head to a door by the stairs signed STAFF ONLY. Brute pulls out a key and unlocks the door. He gestures for us to proceed him into a tiny, plain room. He locks the door behind us.

We stand shoulder to shoulder, glancing at each other with raised brows. Brett shrugs. Brute shuffles past us to asecondary door, this one the shiny silver of an elevator. A keypad sits to the left of the doors, where he enters a code, his broad back blocking our view. Bummer. That could have been handy to know.

With a ding, the door slides open to reveal a large elevator fashioned with deep, midnight black tiles, golden highlights, and a gothic chandelier to dimly light the area. We shuffle in, Brute going directly to the wall of buttons. He selects the one labeled with a golden, bold 'D'. The doors slide closed and a slight drop in my stomach lets me know we are descending.

Unlike the cheerful songs you would expect to hear in an elevator, a haunting tune of deep and slow drumming was accompanied by an unusually melancholy violin. Not one to dwell on intuition, I am suddenly overcome with an uncomfortable, almost sickening feeling in my gut that something bad was about to happen. I rub my chest, willing the sensation to disappear. Brett, noticing my discomfort, nods solemnly. He feels it too.

With a soft ding, the doors open and we enter a long hallway with the same dark yet classy appearance of the elevator. Brute takes the lead, Law following unquestioningly. Brett and I share another look before he,too, walks away. After scolding myself for being a pussy, I take quick steps to catch up to the others.

At the end of the hall is another door and keypad. Again, Brute blocks our view as he enters the code.

The dull thumping of distant club-like music fills the hall as the door opens. Law glances back with a grin, obviously approving of the music choice.

"I must admit, I am going to be a little disappointed if all this is, is a club for rich old fuckers to reminisce their younger and finer days," he says in a low voice, leaning close to Brett and I to prevent Brute from overhearing.

I grunt, not at all convinced that his new theory is accurate.

"This way," Brute says, leading us towards a pair of men even larger than him. "You will need to hand over your phones and submit to a pat down before entry is allowed."

Brett hands his over unquestioningly. Law hesitates briefly before complying.

I, however, am not going to fall in line so easily.

"You do remember who I am, right?" I demand, staring up at Brute.

He lowers his gaze, "Of course, Baby Duke. Unfortunately, I must insist on your compliance. There are zero exemptions to this rule."

Fuming, I slam my phone onto the countertop. Unperturbed, one of the giants snatches it up before I can change my mind and tosses it unceremoniously into an open locker. He closes it up with a flick of the wrist, turns the key, and tosses it onto the counter in front of me. I grab it with a glare. His stony eyes stare back, calm and collected, obviously not the first time he has been faced with such a look.

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