Page 61 of Vengeful Princess

“Are you sure? You look like you need to relax, baby.” She made the mistake of reaching out and brushing her fingers down my chest, but I grabbed her wrist and shoved her away.

“I said no. Now fuck off.” Whatever she saw in my eyes frightened her because she leaped back like I’d hurt her. I hadn’t. I wasn’t that kind of guy, although I’d make an exception forEkaterina. That bitch deserved to experience a world of pain, and she would once my father was out of the way.

The blond scurried off toward the bar while I scanned the club for the guy I was supposed to meet.

Anatoly was one of my father’s distributors. He’d been skimming money from his payments. Stealing from my father was a death sentence, but before he got what was coming to him, I needed to ask him some questions. Ordinarily, one of my father’s other men could have done this job, but since I was in the area, I volunteered. I figured it would be a chance to let off some steam.

Another girl sashayed toward me, a hopeful glint in her eye, but I shook my head. I wasn’t here to pick up pussy. The club catered to the lowest of the low. Men seeking oblivion for a few hours. Cheap beer and low-rent pussy.

Anatoly’s club laundered money. It had long been a popular meeting place for members of the criminal fraternity, who often came here to make deals. Although Anatoly worked for my father, the club was his business. A legitimate one.

My father didn’t need the income from a sleazy club down a back alley. What Anatoly did with his money was his business. At least it was until he started taking more than his cut from the drugs money we funneled through the club.

I ordered a vodka over ice and ignored the predatory looks coming from various men and women. They could all go fuck themselves. The moment Anatoly showed his face, we’d have a nice, friendly chat, then I was out of there.

Honestly, the place made my skin crawl. I’d need a hot shower to clean the stench of cheap perfume and desperation from my skin. I might even have to burn my favorite leather jacket.

With my drink in hand, I left the bar and sat at a table to wait for Anatoly.

Just as I glanced at my watch for the fiftieth time, another female approached the bar. This one had vibrant red hair, slim legs, and the shapeliest ass I’d seen in a while. The dim lighting around the bar was intended to disguise the shady practices Anatoly’s staff engaged in when pouring drinks, but it also meant I couldn’t get a good look at the redhead’s face. This was a shame because I very much wanted to see if the front view matched up to the expectations of her ass.

It wasn’t until the woman accepted a drink and turned around that I realized who she was.

Why was Thea here, in this shitty club, wearing a wig and looking like a high-class hooker for hire?

Before I could jump up and ask her, a wiry man in a cheap suit approached the bar. He ordered a drink and then looked sideways at her, licking his lips with blatant interest. Placing a hand on her ass, he leaned in to whisper something in her ear. I confess, it shocked me when she didn’t pull a knife on him. Instead, she smiled flirtatiously and nodded.

By the time I’d pushed my way through the throngs of stoned, drunk, and pitiful punters, Thea had disappeared with the guy in tow.

This was the point when I should have backed off. What Thea got up to in her spare time was none of my business. Murdering random assholes notwithstanding.

My father had plenty of whores on the books. I didn’t pay for sex, but offering sex for money was an acceptable entrepreneurial hustle for millions of women. Who was I to judge?

Still, I didn’t think for one second Thea had come to this shitty club to pick up some low-life for sex. It made no sense. Not when she had Landon panting after her 24/7.

When I reached the bar, the bartender eyed me with suspicion.

“Where’s the redhead gone?” I barked.

“Redhead?” He wiped a glass with a grubby cloth and looked past me.

Fuck me, this was taking too long. I pulled out my Glock and rested it on the bar. The bartender’s throat bobbed as he swallowed nervously, looking first at the gun and then at me.

“She… she went off with Roberto.” He threw his hands in the air, deciding it wasn’t worth his while to protect another customer. “I know nothing else, honestly!” I almost laughed. The fucker didn’t know the meaning of the wordhonestly.Nobody working in this place did, especially Anatoly.

But that asshole was no longer my priority. Thea was.

“Where did they go?” I fingered my Glock, flicking the safety off. Firing a round off in here would trigger a mass exodus, but if the bartender didn’t give me some answers fast, I was more than willing to cause trouble.

“There are private rooms through the door over there.” He pointed to a black door in the corner. “Punters can rent them out for 30-minute slots.”Jesus. Anatoly had apparently turned his shitty club into a brothel since I’d last visited. The guy deserved an award for his entrepreneurial spirit.

Maybe that’s why he’d started skimming money. No doubt the renovations weren’t cheap. Plus, he’d need to pay off the local cops, so they didn’t arrest him for pimping out girls.

I pulled my Glock off the bar and tucked it back in my jeans. The bartender immediately hustled away and disappeared out back, ignoring a group of people waiting to be served.

The black door took me into a dingy corridor lit by a lone bulb. Classy it was not. The first two rooms were empty. The third revealed an old guy being blown by a skinny girl in a fake leather mini skirt and bralet. She popped her mouth off the guy’s dick and looked up when she saw me in the doorway.

“I can do a two-for-one deal, honey?” she offered while the guy frantically tried to pull his pants up.

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