Page 36 of Sins of the Orchid
What the fuck now?
I just needed one night for everything to go smoothly, so I could get home before two in the morning and chill for a while. It has been two days since Bennetti’s fucked-up shipment of dead bodies. I wasn’t in the mood for shit today after days of one fucked up thing after another. Carrera and I had hunted down the Venezuelans that fucked with our shipment, as well as Bennetti’s, so I had my share of killings for a few days. Even by my standards.
“Can’t it wait?” I grumbled.
It wasn’t as if there was an active invasion going on. I’d hear shots being fired if someone was attacking.
“If Bennetti finds out about this, we’re all dead. So hurry your ass up and come over here. Santi, you have to take care of her before her father sees her! He’ll blow this club to pieces.”
There could only be oneher.
I rose from my spot behind the desk and left the comfort of my office to deal with a teenager that should be home right now. Goddamn it, wasn’t she supposed to be home? Her birthday party was tomorrow.
I followed him through the dark hallway from the back of the club, where the offices were, to the front, where customers hung out and the stage was. That was putting it eloquently - it was the stripper’s podium.
The second I entered the room, I froze.
Is that…?No, it couldn’t be. The girl twirled on the pole, sliding down like she had done it a million times, and the moment the spotlight hit her red hair, it was my confirmation. Amore Bennetti danced on the stripper pole. Thank fuck she had clothes on, but that little school uniform was almost worse than being naked.
No wonder Renzo was all frazzled.
Twice in a fucking week. I knew Adriano took her driving after school and should have dropped her off at her father’s house, not my goddamn nightclub. Tomorrow was her birthday, and if her father caught her on the stripper pole, she’d never live long enough to celebrate being eighteen.
A loud roar and whistle broke through the room and fire raged through my veins. “Go, girl. Take some of it off!” some soon-to-be-dead idiot shouted.
“Who let her up there?” I gritted out.
Her father would blow a gasket if he found out Amore was in my strip club. There was a lot he tolerated, but this he wouldn't. He’d go to war for it, right after he killed Adriano for allowing her to be in that position.
“Shut off the fucking music!” I roared through the room. Men were eye-fucking the seventeen-year-old girl…Eighteen tomorrow, I corrected myself as if that made it any better. I was about to kill every single one of these men. The music halted, but Amore didn’t. I glared at the men. “Get the fuck out. And if one word of this slips, I know who to come for.” I shifted my eyes over every single one of them, so they knew I was serious, and I’d hunt them down.
They scurried along and that was when I saw Adriano. “What the fuck, Adriano?” I shouted. “Amore, get the fuck down!”
“She can’t hear you,” he drawled, swaying on his feet. Was my brother drunk? I balled my fists, resisting the urge to punch him in the face. He was still young and trying to live up his college years. I was reckless at his age too, except that I was already working every free minute for Pà and the underworld.
I needed Adriano to step up and do better than this. I’d been slowly involving him in the Cosa Nostra business and our family business, but he was too easily distracted. I kept waiting for him to prove to me he could be trusted to do what needed to be done; that he had balls to do what was necessary. He wasn’t giving me much to go off right now.
I stepped up onto the stage and grabbed Amore by her waist. She startled, a little squeal escaping her mouth. She had damn earbuds in.
“What the hell?” she asked, her hand pressed against her chest. She swayed on her feet, and I narrowed my eyes on her. She better not be drunk, orIwould blow a gasket, not her father.
Her eyes lit up when she recognized me.
“Heeeey.” She smiled lazily. She was fucking drunk. She smelled like tequila and strawberries. Her small hand came up to my chest and patted. “Hey,” she repeated, her full lips curved in a wide smile.
Damn fucking kid!
I took her hands by the wrist, removed them off my chest and pulled her off the stage. I couldn't have her close to a stripper pole. I’d lose my goddamn license. The kid wasn’t even legal, yet she was in my nightclub and drunk as a damn sailor.
Glaring at my brother, who was equally drunk, I snapped, “Explain yourself!”
I warned him not to repeat that shit from a few years ago. He had to keep his head straight and watch his and Amore’s back.
“We had a competition,” he slurred his words. “I think Amore won.”
“I like winning.” She grinned. They both laughed stupidly though there was nothing funny, their eyes unfocused.
“You two were supposed to be back at her place. Not getting drunk and coming to my club.”
