Page 86 of Syndicate of Sin Bundle

“There’s no easy way to say this, Sage. I know we just hired you a few of months ago, but”—my boss grimaced and shook his head—“the company ordered me to lay off people on the design team.”

My eyes widened. “Wh-what?”

This had been my dream job. I had spent over a hundred thousand dollars in college to perfect my art skills and get a degree so a studio of this scale would even recognize my work in a sea of amazing artists.

Everyone had called me stupid for going to art school, but it had landed me a job here.

What would I tell my family? That I was now hundreds of thousands of dollars in debt with no job, only to hear them say, I told you so?

“Please pack up your desk and hand in your iPad by the end of the workday.”

Tears forming in my eyes, I gave him the iPad and stood. My chest tightened.

Why? Why is this happening?

I walked out of his office with a shattered heart and moved aimlessly toward my desk, feeling so numb. Once I made it to the small cubicle, which really hindered all sense of creativity, I gathered my belongings.

No way would I wait until the end of the day.

If they were firing me, then I would leave now. I grabbed all the things that I had brought to work over the course of the last month—all the papers and pictures of my family, the cute knickknacks sitting in the cubicle corner.

And then … I grabbed the manila folder with the contract.

I peered down at it and swallowed hard.

One million dollars per year.

That was how much the Mafia boss and his wife had offered me to be their toy. They wanted me to live in their home, sleep in their bed, and submit to them on my hands and knees at a moment’s notice. The deal was to do whatever they wanted sexually and nothing more.

But no strings attached never worked out.

It would be enough to pay back my student loans, not default on any money owed to the bank. I would be able to finally buy an iPad of my own and draw all day long without the need to sell my soul to some studio.

Of course, the money wasn’t legal, and the job came with countless cons. If anyone found out about me, I’d be harassed by the cops, targeted by rival families, and seen as nothing more than a filthy, easy slut by the Buratti relatives.

But I’d be under Constantino’s protection. And Constantino didn’t take anyone’s shit.

5

laila

“So …” Bethany hummed over brunch mimosas. She tossed some blonde hair behind her ear and gently pressed a napkin to the corner of her glossy pink lips. “Federica said she saw you talking with a new girl at the club last Friday. Is she a dancer?”

I swallowed hard, glanced down at my food, and took a sip of my Afterglow. “Federica, uh … said that?”

Nobody was supposed to see me with Sage, never mind see me bringing her into the back room with Constantino. I didn’t know if she’d ever even message us back about the agreement—it had already been a week—but I couldn’t let the girls find out.

Bethany would think that I liked her and totally toss me to the side, just like my parents had. And that could never ever happen again. I had worked so hard to get to this place, to feel happy and comfortable again.

When I placed the glass down, a waiter grabbed it from me and poured me a new drink.

I smiled at Bethany and shook my head. “We’re thinking about bringing her on as a maid. Definitely not a dancer. I don’t need Constantino staring at her all day. She’s way too pretty for that.”

Bethany slid her knife into her chicken and popped a piece into her mouth. “You know what I’d do to him if he ever cheated on you, Laila. And, plus, you’re hotter than any of those bitches at the club.”

Lips curling into a half-smile, I peered down at my food. “I know. I know.”

God, I hated lying.

---