Page 65 of Cannon
Irritated, I walked back into the club.
I stormed back into the club, my blood still boiling from Smoke’s ultimatum. Who the fuck did he think he was? I’d built Sylk Road from nothing, clawed my way up with my own two hands. Now this wannabe kingpin thought he could just waltz in and force me to launder his dirty money? It was bad enough he had his minions in here pushing coke but opening up another club with the sole purpose of laundering cash? That wasn’t going to happen.
I was so lost in my anger that I nearly collided with Cannon as I rounded the corner. His large frame blocked my path, those aqua eyes instantly narrowing as they scanned my face.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, his deep voice cutting through my thoughts.
“Nothing,” I snapped, trying to move past him. “We open in ten minutes. I need to check the bar stock.”
His hand caught my elbow, gentle but firm. “Queen.”
Just my name, but the way he said it, like he could see straight through my bullshit, made me pause.
“Not now,” I hissed, glancing around to make sure no one was watching us. “I’ve got a club to run.”
Without warning, Cannon steered me down the hallway, his large hand pressed against the small of my back. Before I could protest, he’d pushed open the door to the private bathroom near the bar and pulled me inside, locking the door behind us.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” I demanded, though my voice lacked its usual bite.
“Tell me what’s wrong,” he said, crossing his arms over his broad chest. “And don’t lie to me again.”
The bathroom suddenly felt too small with him in it, all that raw masculine energy crowding me against the sink. I looked away, unable to meet his gaze.
“It’s just… a lot tonight,” I said, the half-truth slipping out easier than I expected. “Big crowd, VIPs everywhere. I heard there was a shooting at Club Essence in Queens last weekend. Three people dead.” I shook my head, forcing concern into my voice. “I just hope everything goes smooth here.”
Cannon’s eyes never left my face, studying me like I was a puzzle he was determined to solve.
“The front door’s tight,” he said finally. “Every person gets wanded, bags checked. No guns getting in tonight. I always make sure of it.”
I nodded, relief washing through me that he seemed to be buying my story. “Good. That’s good.”
He stepped closer, and I felt my back press against the cool marble of the sink. One of his hands came up, tilting my chin so I had to look at him.
“You’re lying,” he said softly, no accusation in his voice, just certainty. “But I’ll let it go for now. Club’s about to open, and we both got work to do.”
I swallowed hard, unable to look away from those piercing eyes.
“But make no mistake,” he continued, his thumb brushing across my bottom lip. “You will be telling me laters.”
I felt myself shiver at the promise in his voice. This man was younger than me, yet he commanded me with an authority that made my insides melt. I had to force myself to remember I was the boss here.
“Fine,” I managed, trying to sound dismissive. “Now let me go. I have a club to run.”
He stepped back, his towering Adonis-frame filling the doorway as he unlocked it. “Go do your thing, Queen. But don’t think we’re done.”
Then he was gone, leaving me alone in the bathroom with my hands trembling against the cool porcelain. I stared at my reflection. The mirror reflected back a woman who looked composed, but inside I was a mess of contradictions, turned on by Cannon’s dominance yet pissed at his presumption, terrified of Smoke’s threats yet determined not to cave.
“Get your shit together,” I whispered to my reflection.
I straightened my shoulders, fixed my lipstick, and walked out of that bathroom like I owned the world, which in this club, I did. The bass was already thumping through the speakers, early birds lining up at the bar while my dancers warmed up the poles.
The night moved like clockwork after that. I worked the VIP section, making sure bottles kept flowing and egos stayed stroked. Jupiter was killing it, just like I knew she would, drawing a crowd of high rollers like moths to a flame. I worked my way through the club, pausing to whisper in a dancer’s ear, smooth-talk a VIP, or handle any small fires before they becameinfernos. All the while, I felt Cannon’s eyes on me from across the room, tracking my every move like a predator waiting for the right moment to strike.
Chapter 26
Cannon
I stood at the door, watching the last drunk nigga stumble his way out into the night. My shoulders relaxed for the first time in hours. Best night we’d had since I started working here, no fights, no weapons, no drama. Just money flowing and music pumping while I kept watch over it all like a sentinel. I’d seen more notable mothafuckas in here than I did in People magazine. Sylk Road wasthatspot.
