Page 22 of Say My Name

“She’s beautiful,” Vlad says. “I love blondes.”

Possessiveness works its way through my system, tightening my shoulders. They wouldn’t have a chance with her. Dimitri and Vlad are good-looking guys, I guess. If you’re into scary dudes. They both remind me of Dolph Lundgren, the Swedish actor who played the Russian inRocky IV. Blond hair, cut close to their scalp. Blue eyes. A mean scowl on their faces.

“She’s off-limits,” I say in a commanding voice that I shouldn’t be using. I’ve never once been territorial over any woman, but tonight I’m feeling that way toward Swan.

I despise the way they look at her like she’s fresh meat straight from the slaughterhouse. Vlad’s blue eyes lower, and I can tell he’s staring at her ass.

I clench my hand into a fist, not wanting to get into a fight here. I can’t. As much as the Chekov brothers annoy me, I can’t start a fight with the Russian mob. Not now. Not ever.

“Are you heading into your usual room?” I ask them.

The brothers enjoy watching women dance for them while they party with their friends. After they drink enough alcohol to push them past the legal limit, they screw around with whatever girls are close enough to them. Usually, it’s a woman from their personal party, but occasionally, they like to play with the Greedy Girls.

Vlad nods. “We’re entertaining new guests.”

“I’ll leave you to it,” I say, moving away from them so they can get to their party and stop watching my new hire.

It’d be ideal to ask them what they know about the murders, find out if they had problems with any of the dead Greedy Girls, but I don’t want to speculate about whether they are telling the truth. I need facts, so I pull my phone from my suit jacket and send a text to Adele, asking to see the complaints file again. It’s possible I missed something the first time I went through it.

Adele answers me quickly, saying she’ll have the file on my desk by the end of the night. My attention travels back to Swan, and it’s hard not to watch as she services her tables. Her reaction the other night at the viewing room will forever haunt me. I can’t forget the image of her licking those plush pink lips when Mr. Jeffries got his wife off. Needless to say, I went home and thought about it a lot more while jerking off. I stop in my tracks when I realize I haven’t fucked my hand to thoughts of a specific woman since I was a teenager.

My eyes crash into Swan’s, and she stares innocently at me. Damn, if she only knew what I’m thinking right now. I head back up to my office in a rush, not wanting to deal with the Thorne twins, but knowing I need to get away from Swan.

Before I make it up the stairs, a call comes in from the front receptionist.

“What’s wrong?” I ask because she never calls me directly for anything. Usually, she goes through Adele, so if she’s calling me, we’ve got genuine problems at the entrance of the club.

“Detectives are here, wanting to ask you a few questions.”

I’m not surprised they’d come here. I’m sure they’re itching to get a glimpse of the inside of my club.

“I’ll be right there.”

No way will I give them that satisfaction. I turn around and head toward the waiting room just inside the main entrance. This room’s design prohibits anyone from walking straight into a full-on sex party. Not that there’s much action going on in the main area of the club, but you never know.

When I enter, a tall man and an exotic-looking woman with black hair immediately assess me.

“Mr. Huxley,” one detective says, holding out his hand for me to shake. “I’m Detective Finn Grant, and I have a few questions to ask you.”

They show me their badges, and I cross my arms over my chest as I study their names. “Ask away.”

The female detective—Geneva Hall—smiles, but it doesn’t reach her dark eyes. “Is there somewhere we can talk privately? An office?” She’s pushy, but I’m sure that’s a requirement to be a detective. Pushy. Asshole. Pegs you for a criminal without even talking to you.

“Right this way.” When Adele suggested we have an office by the main entrance of the club, I thought the idea was ludicrous. Now, however, I’m thrilled we turned a storage closet into an office space.

I open the office door and lead the two detectives inside. “How can I help you?” I ask, perching my ass against the wooden desk.

Grant and Hall stand shoulder to shoulder in the confined area. Both of their eyes bounce around the room, trying to gain as much information as they can. They won’t find much, aside from old files. This office isn’t really used too often.

“We just wanted to ask if you ever socialize with any of the Greedy Girls outside of work?”

“No, never.” And that's the God's honest truth. I never fuck the pussy employed here. Nor have I ever, even when I first opened the club and took part in many of the nightly activities.

“Not even to take them to dinner or anything similar?”

I shake my head. “I’ve never mixed business and pleasure. My non-fraternization policy is extremely strict. I won’t let my security detail date any of the Greedy Girls either.”

“You had no relations with Julie Landers?” Finn Grant glances at the little notepad in his hand. “Otherwise known as Ginger.”

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