Page 9 of Controlled
Laughing, I adjusted my jacket as I sauntered down the stairs, well aware Carlos was watching me intently. While the beatings I’d received as a child had cemented my hatred of my father, they’d also taught me to hide my emotions with ease. I was furious, so much so I needed to work off some steam or I would find a hapless victim, inflicting pain when I should be handling business.
As I drew closer to the young woman, I gathered a whiff of her delicate perfume. It wasn’t the usual overpowering cheap shit that I was used to savoring. Hers was a quiet, refreshing citrus and floral combination, the kind only the most innocent women found attractive. But for me, the sweet fragrance evoked even filthier thoughts and images of defiling the lovely creature wearing it.
This afternoon was no exception.
Her manager was talking to her, and it was quite apparent neither one of them was too happy. I waited just off to the left until the manager noticed my presence. It would seem my reputation preceded me. He swallowed hard, then pointed his finger in her face.
“Don’t be late the next time,” he told her.
Sighing, I could tell she was trembling from the asshole’s warning. I hated men like him, dickless wonders who lorded their positions over women. I might not be interested in having any decent kind of relationship, but I couldn’t stand a man who used his heightened level of testosterone as a weapon.
Before she could scuttle off, I moved in front of her. “Never allow men who have nothing better to do than attempt to destroy the beauty and versatility of your craft to trouble you. You are as beautiful as you are talented. I applaud you for being so professional.” I surprised myself with the words, even chuckling inwardly as I pulled out my wallet, folding several bills before lifting her hand. “True beauty.” I folded her fingers around the money, hoping that whatever reason she’d taken the shitty job, the small amount of cash would help. Maybe at least provide a smile.
I doubted any of the fuckers inside the posh club ever took a few minutes out of their precious day to provide compliments to the hired help.
She seemed flustered and I would bet underneath her gothic mask her cheeks were as red as her leotard.
If only I could stay long enough to peel away both.
And ravish her inch by inch.
CHAPTER 4
Creed
“What the fuck do you mean, the bastard wanted to renegotiate? Who the hell does Carlos think he is? Doesn’t he know that we could easily destroy him?” Easton huffed as he planted one hand on his hip, trying to keep his voice down.
It was rare to see my younger brother so animated, the professor and designated bookworm usually keeping his opinions to himself. Maybe his outburst was because he was beginning to appreciate how much our stock had increased, which meant his bank account had gotten much healthier over the last few months.
Both Styx and I chuckled, my older brother glancing over his shoulder at his wife, Emily and the girl Easton had brought with him. While she’d been introduced as a colleague, I had to wonder whether my younger brother’s dark needs had resurfaced, something he’d tried to control for years.
“Stop worrying, brother,” I told him. “Carlos is running scared, which I don’t like but he’s no fool. He won’t try anything stupid.”
“You forget I’ve had dealings with him, Creed. He’s unforgiving and obviously won’t like it if we don’t agree to his terms.” Styx grinned. “I know what you’re going to say. Who gives a shit. Right?”
I rubbed my eyes and noticed the two women returning, happily chatting as they walked toward us. The Civic Opera House was packed, even more so than normal, the festivities already starting with champagne flowing like water. And it wasn’t the rotgut shit. It would seem the Joffrey Ballet had gone all out to impress the two dozen or so investors, the very ones that had helped bring our illustrious art institute design together.
A night of celebration.
When all I wanted to do was to rip the heads off bats.
“Carlos is up to something, or he’s made a deal with someone else,” I told them. “I could tell by how cagey he was acting. Easton. Why don’t you do your magic with our hackers. See if they can dig into the cartel leader’s finances. Maybe that will provide us with an indication of what we are dealing with.”
“I will after the finals tomorrow.” His answer amused both Styx and me, my older brother laughing first as he patted Easton on the shoulder.
“It’s a good thing you have your priorities straight, brother,” Styx said.
The two of them used their regular jobs as an attempt to keep away the demons that had plagued the three of us since our childhoods. Meanwhile, I’d embraced the concept of darkness years before. What did I care if my actions were immoral or what some would consider reprehensible?
“I have work to do, people who count on me just like you do, Styx,” Easton answered. “I’ll see what I can find out why Carlos is balking, but we also need to investigate his claim we have someone out to destroy us.”
“Yes, we do. However, I guess for tonight it’s all about the ballet. Not that I fucking give a shit.”
“And our not-for-profit organization,” Styx added, his grin widening. “You need a nice submissive to calm your fucking ass down.”
I glared at him, forgetting he knew my tastes far too well. “And you know there isn’t a woman who can handle my sadistic needs.” Styx and I had the same tastes, the same dark desires that could potentially be dangerous to a woman. How had Emily shifted from hating the man who’d kidnapped and kept her for months, requiring her to play piano for him when his beast surfaced, to adoring the man? Their powerful relationship was something I would never understand, the trait unheard of in our worlds.
“Never say never,” he growled, his eyes sparking another look that represented his deviant needs. “Maybe a dancer will be perfect for you.” He tossed back the rest of his champagne, the spark in his eyes continuing.