“Mm, I can do anything you want me to do,” the woman who worked at my strip club said into my ear as she slid onto my lap. “I’ve seen you watching me all night.”
“It’s my job to watch,” I said in a bored voice as she let out a soft titter.
I had no idea what her name was. I didn’t give a fuck what it was either. She was an employee.
I hated this fucking club. I’d only picked it up because of the location. I figured I might be able to turn it into something admirable, and really, I had. Business was booming. A place for the elite of our world to watch some of the top strippers in the city. It pulled in a fuck ton of money.
But it wasn’t for me.
I’d burn the place down in a heartbeat if I thought it would make me feel better.
Money wasn’t an issue for me. I had so fucking much that dropping a ten thousand dollar tip at a local diner was nothing. I made that every fraction of a second.
Guns. Tech. Real estate. I had my hands in a little bit of everything, right down to some fucked-up government contracts. I’d poured myself into work after my parents died and Rosalie left.
I didn’t have fuck all else to do. Seemed like a good way to waste my time as I waited for someone with enough bravery and skill to kill my ass.
She laughed as she rubbed up against me. I hadn’t been with a woman in years. Not since Rosalie. I wasn’t about to break my dry streak with one of my employees either.
“You’re brave,” I said to her. “I could kill you for touching me.”
She bit her lip and gave me a coy look. “If you were going to kill me, you’d have done it already.”
I let out a soft laugh at that before I reached out my tatted hand, lightning fast, and wrapped it around her delicate throat and squeezed. Her eyes went wide as she grasped desperately at my arm.
“Thanks for reminding me,” I murmured. I dragged her closer so I could speak into her ear. “Listen closely. You do not touch me. I am not your friend or someone interested in fucking you. Your job is not to entertain me. It’s to entertain the men in this club. This job is a privilege, not a fucking right. If you want to keep that privilege that pays your fucking bills, I suggest doing your job and stop tryingto dome. Understand?” I loosened my hold on her throat. She sucked in mouthfuls of air, her dark lashes fluttering.
“Y-Yes, Mr. De Luca. I-I’m sorry.”
“Get the fuck off me,” I said, giving her a shove. She landed on her ass with a soft cry, her bare tits bouncing, before getting to her feet and rushing away.
Several men in the club cast me a quick look. I didn’t give a fuck if a hundred men looked at me. None could touch me.
“Bit rude, don’t you think?”
I looked over to see who was speaking to me.
“Sylar,” I snarled, glaring at the monster Dante Church employed. The same piece of shit that touched my sunshine, and the man she’d kissed.
He’d made my girl a cheater.
I hated him.
He slid into the velvet seat across from me. “How much does a dance in this place cost?”
“Three hundred a song,” I said dryly.
He bobbed his head. “Do you guys take coupons?”
I gave him a sour look. He was a weird prick. I had men all over this place watching me. Protecting me. I wasn’t afraid of shit, especially a watcher from the underground.
“What do you want?” I demanded.
“Just figured I was in the area and I’d say hi.”
I watched as his gaze drifted around the darkened club. Men in this place let their eyes linger on the naked women. He seemed more interested in the decor than the women.
“Well, now that you’ve said hi, fuck off,” I said.
