Page 31 of King of Depravity

I could cry, not from the pain, but because all the good my one night of good tips did for my budget is being eaten back up.

And for once, I’m not even sure I want to walk home. What if Alexander and Preston follow?

I grab my phone from my jacket pocket and hit the Uber app. I can’t afford the car, but I just don’t want to be out alone tonight. Gathering up my stuff, I turn to my manager. “Can I wait in your office? I don’t want to be seen.”

“Good idea,” he nods. “Any maybe you should take a few nights off until the swelling goes down? Looking like that will not be good for business.”

Inwardly I groan. I can’t take more nights off. But I don’t think I really have a choice. Holding back tears, I head to the back.

Luckily, my car arrives quickly, and I go out the back door, through the alley. It’s how the employees mostly enter and exit the bar. But even if we didn’t, I don’t want to pass through the front again.

I pick up my phone considering calling Killian. But then I drop it back in my pocket. I know he’s busy tonight. Besides, he’s not my boyfriend and this is not his problem.

I keep the ice on my face and I move through the alley and climb into the backseat of the car. What started off as an amazing day, has turned into a nightmare of a night.

Slumping down into the seat, I close my eyes.

I’ve found myself in the middle of some disagreement between the Smiths and the Russians, and I’ve no idea how to get myself out.

CHAPTERELEVEN

Killian

Triston talks foreverabout permits and purchase deals, but at the end of the call, I think I understand.

The Russians are double-crossing the Kincaids and making deals with the Italians to buy more casinos. Something they agreed not to do in exchange for access to the Kincaids’ underground Las Vegas tunnel. They’re trying to work both sides, which is why they’ve been so secretive.

Mason Kincaid, the head of his family, is not a man anyone should fuck with. I’m a badass motherfucker, and I would not take on Mason.

Dimitri can think he’s better than the Kincaids, tougher, meaner, but Mason climbed his way to the top from nothing. And he’s legit the smartest man I know. No one is outthinking him.

But that is the Russians’ problem. All we can do is give Mason the information and let him do his worst. Triston has decided we’re going all in with the Kincaids. Part of me is relieved to not have to deal with the Russians myself. I’m going soft…

Then again, I’ve gathered everything Mason will need to take them down. I still have my uses.

Putting on a fresh T-shirt and strapping on a pair of worn leather work boots, I head out, planning to meet Chloe at the piano bar to escort her back to my place. It’s not the usual business attire I’d wear, but let them try to keep me out.

The bar is already quiet when I get there a little after midnight as I make my way to my usual table.

A bubbly brunette rushes over to take my order. “What can I get for you, handsome?” she asks with a syrupy sweet smile.

I glare. “I’d like Chloe, please.”

“Don’t you worry,” she pats my arm, running her hand over my skin. “I can take care of whatever you need.”

I narrow my gaze, glaring until she removes her hand. “I said I want Chloe.”

“She isn’t here,” the other girl snaps, her smile gone.

Chloe works like no one I know, so she must be feeling really terrible. I stand, the waitress taking a step back. “I can get someone else.”

“I want to know where Chloe is,” I growl out.

She gives me that look that I get a lot, the one that lets me know she thinks I’m insane. “Ask Mike at the bar.” Then she spins on her heels and stomps off.

I cross the room, not bothering with the shadows since the Russians are nowhere in sight.

Stopping at the bar, I slap my hand down, to get the bartender’s attention.

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