Page 44 of His Dark Vendetta

Siobhán was the only leverage I had, the only path I saw to vengeance. I’d hold onto her, extract every ounce of information I could. Locked inside that pretty little head were the answers I needed. I was sure of it. I’d gain her trust and get her talking until she revealed her family’s weaknesses. Then I’d exact my revenge. For myself and for her.

ChapterFourteen

Luca

The girls’ dressing room at The Dollhouse was enough to send my already racing heart into overdrive. Clothes, shoes, makeup, hair supplies, stacks of magazines, empty coffee mugs—crap covered every surface, an explosion of clutter as jumbled and erratic as the thoughts and emotions swirling through my mind. The urge to start cleaning had me flexing my hands. I licked my lips, closed my eyes, and took deep breaths until the tightness in my chest and lightness in my head eased. All I needed were clothes for Siobhán. Maybe a brush. Then I could get the hell out of there. Come back later when my nerves could handle the mess.

But I couldn’t let it go.

“How the hell do you know what’s clean around here?” I shouted and kicked a pile of magazines out of my way. I stepped over an empty pizza box and stood between the two sofas in the middle of the room, my hands shaking with anxiety.

Laura and Trixie were dancing first shift, and we opened in a little over an hour. They sat on stools in front of the light-rimmed mirrors in street clothes putting on makeup. Mia and Dani, two of our in-house Sources, had early appointments. They sat on opposite ends of the couch facing the door. Mia scrolled on her phone, and Dani flipped through aPeoplemagazine. A box of Kool-Aid hung from her mouth by its straw. She had three appointments tonight; high-blood sugar would help.

Not one girl bothered to respond, much less look up. So much for being in charge.

“I want this shit cleaned up.” I pointed at the floor. “When I come back tonight, this place better be spotless, capisce?”

That got their attention. At least, as much of their attention as I was ever able to garner. Mia lifted her eyes from her phone and smiled, and the girls doing their makeup lowered their brushes. “Yes, Mr. Moretti,” Dani said, but her focus never left her magazine.

“Fucking Christ,” I mumbled and shoved my hand into my hair. I needed to get the hell out of there before I had a full-on panic attack. “Dani. Stand up for me for a second.”

“Why?” she asked around the straw and flipped another page.

“Because I fucking asked you to, and I’m the one who pays you.”

She let out an over-exaggerated sigh, put the magazine and the juice box down, and pushed herself off the couch. She crossed her arms, stuck out a hip, and gave me a bored look.

Chestier than Siobhán, although that wasn’t saying much. Same height too, give or take. Maybe two sizes thicker. Close enough.

“Get me some clothes—cleanclothes—that would fit you.” I waved a hand. “A couple pairs of leggings, shirts, whatever. Some of the new underwear that got delivered last week.”

“Okay…” she said and gave me side-eye. But shockingly, she followed directions and moved around the room collecting items as though the disarray was organized into logical piles.

The Dollhouse had a sizable budget for its dancers and in-house Sources. Vinnie believed, and I agreed, that one way to turn a strip club into a viable front was to class the place up, make sure every girl was clean and well-dressed. Police had better things to do than investigate a joint on the up-and-up. Especially when the girls giving them free lap dances with their drinks were well-adjusted and healthy.

Dani slung a bunch of garments over her arm. I picked up thePeoplemagazine she’d been reading along with a few others and shoved them into my gym bag.

What the hell was I doing? Picking up supplies to make Siobhán feel at home while I kept her locked up and manipulated her for information?Fuck.

Dani flipped through the garments in the closet against the far wall, and pale blue caught my eye.

“Wait,” I said. “What’s that? The blue.”

“This?” She pulled the hanger off the rack and held a sheer teddy in front of her. “That should work.”

Images of Siobhán wearing nothing but that teddy filled my vision. Sheer fabric stretched around her lithe body. Thick, rosy nipples pert and visible beneath a blue the same color as her eyes. Red lips turned up in a wicked smirk made all the more impish by the slight crookedness of her front tooth. My fangs would descend, and I’d bite her breast through the thin blue fabric, feeding on her blood even as I tongued her nipple and made her groan.

My dick twitched. I licked my lips and shifted my weight. This wasnothow Stockholm Syndrome was supposed to work.

I gave Dani a terse nod, and she threw the teddy over her arm with the rest of the clothes. She rooted around in a big box with a Victoria’s Secret label on it, picked out a few scraps of lace, and held out both arms. “Here.”

I opened the gym bag. She dumped the clothes inside.

“Get this place cleaned up before we open,” I ordered and zipped the bag shut. “I’ll be back in a few hours, and I donotwant to see a mess.”

“Richie never used to make us clean,” one of the girls grumbled.

My eyes sparked with frustration. “Do I look like fucking Richie?” I shouted. They stopped what they were doing and paid attention. “Get this shit. Cleaned. Up.”

---