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CHAPTERSEVEN
RIGGER
One lone tear rolls down her cheek before she falls to her knees, rocking back and forth as she rubs her bare thighs. A pained expression washes over her face as her chin quivers, and she lets out a strangled cry of frustration.
What the fuck?
“Jesus Christ, Vivi.” I’m at her side in a flash, bending over to rest a hand on her shoulder.
She slaps my hand away. “Don’t fucking touch me.”
I take a step back. “Okay. All right.”
With no other choice, I stand there awkwardly while she cries. I knew she was going to be pissed, but I didn’t expect. . . whatever the hell this is.
Did I make the right choice?
I dismiss that thought immediately. Of course, I did. What kind of brother—stepbrother—would I be if I let her sell her body? Mary’s voice takes up residence in my head again, spouting sexual empowerment and taking back the control that men have exerted over women’s bodies.
But that’s not what this is for Vivi. She’s never once told me that was her reason. The only thing she wants is fast money at any expense. That’s the real reason I’m saying no. Or at least, the rational reason, the valid reason.
Vivi stands, sniffling and wiping her tears away, leaving dark streaks behind from her makeup. “I gotta go.”
“Not a chance.” I block the door with my body.
“Colin, I swear to God, you let me leave, or I will scream.”
“Go ahead. Scream. You think any of my brothers are gonna save you from me? I’m the Vice President of this club.” I smirk. “You forget where you are, sweetheart.”
“I’m serious. Let me go.” She shoves me, but I don’t budge an inch.
Vivi might be tall, but she’s skinnier than a beanpole. Not that she doesn’t look good, because she does with her gentle curves, mile-long legs, and the perfect handful of tits. Maybe it’s wrong to notice, but I give myself grace since I didn’t know who she was when I first saw her at the brothel.
What’s your excuse for checking her out now, asshole?
“You’re not storming out of here this upset. Sit your ass down, and let’s talk about this,” I order, even though I have no idea what to say.
I hadn’t called her back yet because I didn’t have a solution. There are only two things I knew for certain: she wasn’t working for me, and she sure as shit wasn’t working for a different establishment. Thankfully, the other brothels are owned by old men who don’t want trouble and easily complied with my request.
“Talk about what? How you single-handedly crushed my plans? My dreams? No, thank you.” She shoves me again, and it’s so pathetic, it’s almost comical. Can’t deny the girl has some fight in her.
Time to think on the fly.
“I have another offer for you,” I say.Liar.
Her arms fall to her side, and she quiets. “What offer?”
“Sit the fuck down, and I’ll tell you.”Think, asshole. Think. What other offer can I give her?
“Fine.” She folds her arms and plops down on the chair, her lips pressed in a flat line and her jaw set. I don’t blame her for being skeptical. I’m skeptical of myself at this point.
“Being a courtesan isn’t the only job we have open, you know.”
“Will any other positions allow me to clear half a mil in a year?” she fires back.
I retake my position on the corner of my bed, facing her. “Well, no.”
“Then I don’t want it.” She pushes up from the chair.
