Page 44 of Villainous
“Did you ask her not to?”
He nods.“She told me no and she wants to work there, but I don’t want any man fucking my pussy.”
As a man who’s in love, I can understand. I would tell him it’s her decision, and that she brings in a big portion, but I can find someone else, so I nod. A smirk spreads across my face.“Okay, I’ll tell her when her contract is due to end.”
“Thank you.”
My phone buzzes in my dress slacks, and I yank it from my pocket. Manos’s name pops up on the screen, so I answer on the second ring. “Yeah?”
“You need to come to the office, Vil. There are two people here asking for you.”
I cock my eyebrows at him. “Who?”
“A little boy and a teenager. They say they know you.”
“What are their names?”
“AJ and Wyatt.”
I don’t know anyone by those names, but I’m going to see who these kids are and point them to the nearest shelter. They’re probably looking for a handout. It happens a lot. Parents use their kids as a puppet to get to me. Also, it could be a setup from Seamus to get closer to us so he can see if Maya is with me.
“I’ll be right down,” I say before I hit the End button on my phone and stuff it back into my pocket. When I glance at Piero, I sign,“I’m going to have to take a rain check on our breakfast. Something came up at my office.”
He nods.“I understand.”
Once I put on my Italian loafers, my two bodyguards and I head to the Porsche SUV. Henson opens the back door, and I slide in and yank my seat belt over my muscular frame. One of my bodyguards sits in the front seat, and my other one sits next to me.
“Take me to the escort business,” I tell Henson.
“No coffee stop, sir?” he asks, looking into the rearview mirror.
My eyes veer to his. “No.”
Several minutes later, Henson parks on the curb, right in front of a yellow taxi, and I get out of the car and head into the sleek building. As I pass my employees, they bow their heads, and I go straight to the twelfth floor to my office. I open the door without knocking. He’s perched in his seat, and a boy who appears to be about eighteen years old stands against the wall, a nine-year-old next to him. Both of their clothes are filthy, and their skin appears as if they haven’t bathed in a week. I want to roll my eyes. Their parents put them up to this bullshit.
One of my soldiers pokes his head in the door and says, “The new shipment is here.”
By “shipment” he means new women have been brought to the docks.
“Take them to the brothels and place them into their cells,” I say in Italian.
“Will do,” he says before he shuts the door with a thud.
I peer at the boys, and their eyes widen. I shake my head and try to remain calm. “Why are you here?”
The ten-year-old steps forward with his chest out as if he’s not scared of me, but anxiety swallows his facial expression. “You’re my father.”
Now I know these kids have damn near lost their minds. “Manos. Leave us.”
“Yes, boss.” He scrambles out of the room as if his ass is on fire.
I always use a condom with the women I fuck, and I make all my pets get the Depo shot. If they ever suspect they’re pregnant, I get them the morning-after pill.
“There is no way I fathered you. I don’t know what type of game you’re playing, but if you want money, then you’re not getting it. There is a shelter on Fulton Street.” I try to keep the anger out of my voice, and I don’t want to lash out at a kid. He’s innocent and probably not aware of the bullshit his parents are doing.
The ten-year-old tugs on the teenager’s sweater with tears in his baby blue eyes. “You see, Wyatt? Grandma was right. He never wanted me.” He pokes out his bottom lip and thrusts his fingers through his hair.
I slide my fingers into my pockets and rest my butt on the edge of the desk. “Who is your grandmother?”
