Page 13 of Of Desire And Deception

“What?” I asked, confused by the sudden topic change.

“At the bar.” He looked at me like I was dense. “Can you make drinks?”

“Of course.” I waved my hand in the air. I’d made plenty of them for college parties. How hard could it be to learn to do it behind a bar?

“Then you’ll bartend,” he said with finality. “But I never want to see you dancing on that stage again. Do you understand, goldilocks?”

“I understand,” I answered with a nod.

He sighed and shook his head, but flicked a finger at me. “Come on—what’s your name, goldilocks?”

“Wynn,” I answered, matching his every step with two of mine as I stayed at his side. My anxiety faded when I realized he wasn’t barring me from his establishment.

Cosimo looked down at me with that dark gaze, and I suppressed a shiver. “Welcome to Deception, Wynn.”

I smiled sweetly.

No, welcome to my deception.

Chapter Five

Pale gold hair shone in the club lights, and I watched, mesmerized, as Wynn rushed around behind the bar. Her brows furrowed as she struggled to keep up with the Friday night demand, and I suspected she’d lied about her experience tending bar.

I should have fired her, but for some reason, I couldn’t bring myself to move from my spot in the shadowed corner booth. Instead, I lurked there like a predator watching his prey. The bear watching the unsuspecting girl who had unwittingly entered a killer’s domain. There was something about her that called to the darkness in me.

While Wynn was all sunshine and sass on the outside, I could sense the same warped undercurrent lurking beneath the surface. I wondered if she’d bleed the same as me if I sliced her open. Would she cower under the edge of my blade, or would her lips part in panted breaths as she begged for more?

My teeth sank into my lower lip as I imagined the color of the blood flowing through her veins, how it would trail across her pale flesh and pool on my tongue as I caught the crimson, iron-tinged droplets. Her beauty would only be enhanced by soft whimpers and gasps like the ones she’d made when I dragged her off my stage last night.

The edges of my vision blurred as my eyes tunneled in on Wynn’s neck, the swells of her breasts above the vest she wore as part of her uniform. Possessiveness pumped thickly through my veins. Why did I make the women wear the same uniform as the men? Every lech in the place could drool over Wynn’s beautiful body, her fit curves, those plump pink lips I wanted to see swallowing my cock.

A buzzing sound broke through my thoughts, and I turned to find Franco sitting across from me. “Mr. Neretti.”

He’d probably called my name several times, given the headspace I’d fallen into. “Yeah.”

Franco’s brows rose. “You wanted to talk to me about the hiring process.”

“Right.” I reached for the glass of water in front of me and took a swig while I gathered my thoughts and directed them away from my little goldilocks behind the bar. “I want auditions done in private from now on.”

“But, sir,” he protested. “That opens us to liability if a girl makes an accusation about conduct.”

“Then have the other girls watch, too,” I snapped. I didn’t understand what was so difficult about it. “And make sure your conduct is never such that they can accuse you of shit. Because Franco?”

“Yes, Mr. Neretti?”

“If I ever catch wind of an accusation against you,” I began, drawing my finger across the table, “I may not allow you to explain before I reprimand you. And I promise, you do not want my brand of discipline. Do you understand?”

“O-of course, sir,” he stammered. “I understand perfectly.”

Franco didn’t know what went on beneath the floors of Deception, but he’d sure as shit heard about my reputation. I had to give the man credit for not pissing himself at my threat. Not all men could claim the same bladder fortitude. My manager’s ability to withstand working in my establishment for more than a few months intrigued me, but I couldn’t open everybody up to find out what made them tick.

Wynn, though.

Fuck.

I needed to hunt, punish, spill blood, and watch the life drain from my enemy’s eyes. What I didn’t need was a night at my club watching a blonde with a tight body flirt with every fucking customer who sat at her bar.

Franco startled when I stood abruptly, shrinking back against the booth as if I might slit his throat at any moment. He became less interesting.

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