“So you’re the boss’s new pet?” Leenock strode out of an arched doorway, his lips pursed in thought as he approached Conall. He paused in front of him, his hands tucked into the pockets of his expensive pants. Conall wouldn’t exactly call it a question even though Leenock made it sound like one.
Conall crossed his arms and gave Leenock a once-over. He didn’t know when the feud between him and Terrance started, but it’d always been a thing, even when they were kids and Conall’s father owned the Virtue. Leenock’s mothervisitedit to offer her services when money got low for her, and sometimes Leenock came with her. Conall didn’t remember a time when they were friends, because they hated each other when Conall’s father threw them together to play with toys as well.
He touched his collar, as though Leenock couldn’t already see it—a vibrant red against his neck. He didn’t bother to stand from leaning on the pillar. “Why’s it any of your business?”
“It’s not,” Leenock said, but the annoyance that passed across his face said otherwise. He had a narrow face with high cheekbones and a short, bulged nose. He wasn’t traditionally handsome, but there was something unique about him.
“Just say it,” Conall sneered. “Make a joke.”
He shook his head and ran a hand through his long brunet hair, which he usually had hidden beneath an emerald fedora. “Listen, I may have a thing with your brother, but I ain’t got anything against you.” Glancing around the hallway, he stepped closer. Most of Sloan’s guards had followed him, save a few who stood near the doors. Conall wasn’t foolish enough to believe they weren’t keeping an eye on him. They werehisguards as much as they were Sloan’s. “I knew Taylor, the pet before you. He was one of my whores.”
Conall’s stomach tightened and he swallowed around a thickness that grew around his throat. There was that name again.Taylor. It was almost as though people worshipped him. “The one that was gutted by the Russians?”
Leenock nodded. “He worshipped the boss and the ground he walked on. He’d have done anything for him, but the boss didn’t care for him as much.”
“And?” His eyes narrowed. “Why are you telling me this? Do you think I’d care about this Taylor?”
Leenock squinted at him and exhaled quietly. “No, but he was a good boy. Young. He had his whole life ahead of him and he died the most painful way. All’s I’m sayin’ is to be careful. I might not like Terrance, but you’re not a bad person.” He stepped away then, and his mask of concern disappeared, leaving the overly cheery smile on his thin lips again.
A guard stepped closer and Leenock winked at him. “Care for some fun while you’re here, Lenard?”
The guard gave him a look of disbelief.
“Fine, I’ll step away from our master’s pet.” Leenock clapped his hands together again and sauntered off, no doubt to go find Sloan and Brendan and kiss some more arse.
Conall glanced at the guard—Lenard—but he’d already turned his back to him and walked over to his former position. It didn’t matter anyway because a few minutes later, Sloan strode back through one of the doors and curled his arm around Conall’s waist, guiding him out of the Leisure Train.
“Are we done here?” he asked.
Sloan hummed in answer. “We have a few more whorehouses to visit before we get to the Virtue.”
Conall didn’t argue. As long as they got him home for a few hours, he was willing to do anything, and he was curious about the other whorehouses. He’d heard about them from Terrance—who ran them, what kind of profits they pulled in, and what kind of whores they had—but he’d never visited them before.
For the most part, Terrance had been right about the whorehouses. The Liberated Genie was a brothel disguised as a hotel and had the fanciest whores, or escorts, as they called themselves. It was for the real high rollers who felt like they’d dirty themselves by going into Hell’s Kitchen. It was run by a Ukrainian by the name of Bohdan, and Sloan had nothing but praises to sing about him. Apparently he found him as a college dropout, but Bohdan was one of the smartest men Sloan had met. Conall didn’t see what was so spectacular about him, but he admired the Genie. It was fancier than the Leisure Train and the Exotic Virtue combined.
After that, they visited three other brothels located around New York City, until finally—finally—they reached the Virtue. Conall couldn’t get out of the car fast enough, happily ignoring Sloan’s laughter as he nearly tripped out the door.
“Quite all right, sir?” Henry asked as he righted him on his feet.
Conall nodded sharply. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.” He let go of Conall and moved back with a tilt of his head.
“Are you okay, pet?” Sloan reached for him as he stepped out of the back seat and onto the sidewalk beside Conall. A grin played on his lips, and for a moment, Conall couldn’t look away from the genuineness of it. He was a handsome man, but a real smile made him breathtaking.
“Fine.” Conall cleared his throat and shifted away from Sloan’s searching hand. Fuck that. He had to remember who they were—Sloan, mob boss, Conall, pet—and that just annoyed him. He was going to walk into his home as nothing more than a dog with a collar who followed Sloan around obediently. Everyone would be there to see it. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all…
It was too late.
Sloan grasped his elbow and led him toward the large steel doors that the elegance hid behind. The outside of the Virtue was nothing more than a brownstone building that camouflaged well with the rest of the apartment buildings around it. It had cracks in the bricks and an overgrown vine running along the closed windows, but while it looked small on the outside, it was huge on the inside, expanding into multiple buildings beside the one where the entrance was located. The Killough Company had always been about disguise, and it worked because it kept the cops away.
Sloan rapped his knuckles on the door, and it opened, a wide suit-clad man standing on the other side. He had probably cased the place for threats before they got there.
Conall went to step through the door first, but Sloan’s hold on his elbow tightened. He frowned at Sloan. “What?”
“Let me go first, pet.”
“Why?” He glanced between Sloan and the door. “It’s only the Virtue.”
