Daddies Brat

Katriona

I push into the dressing room and sag against the door as it closes with a soft metallic click.

Blissful silence greets me. Feeling a panic attack knocking at my mental door wanting in, I shove it away and grip my heart with a fierce battle of wills until it calms into a steady rhythm.

Wiping at my tears, I drop my bag holding the few important items I own- my phone, the charger, fresh clothes and a picture of my mother. Not much else. Maybe a tampon.

I place my hands flat against the door and breathe in. No one met me at the door. A good sign? My gaze darts around the empty room. Maybe they’d forgotten about me and moved on to the next girl or something.

This part of the club is dimly lit to help ease us into the right mood for walking the floors. Most nights I find it a comfort, but tonight the inky feel of encroaching darkness makes my skin crawl.

I glance at the large clock to my right. Yeah, all the girls were already in the club’s uniforms of leather and lace and were out on the floor.

In a rush, I peel off my boots and jeans, tossing them into my locker with little care. Ten minutes later I’m fully dressed-if you can call it that-in a barely-there skirt the color of the devil’s soul and a bodice made of buttery soft red leather with white lace along the top designed to highlight the dip of a woman’s cleavage.

I wiggle a little, getting my ample D’s in place before lacing up the front with a delicate bow I consider one step away from a malfunction.

I slip into a pair of spiked stilettos and start touching up my makeup. Since I did most of the prep work at home, a swipe of red lipstick and my walking fantasy look is complete.

I feel a rush of air as the door swings open on well-oiled hinges behind me.

I bolt around, holding my breath only to let it out in a rush. Green eyes highlighted with gold glitter and black eyeliner meet mine.

“There you are!” Nikki hisses.

“You scared the hell outta me. I just got here.”

Nikki glides across the room, the embodiment of grace. Pushing me to face the mirror, she weaves my long hair into an artistic bun, leaving soft tendrils to fall around my face. On second thought I go for the lipstick again and touch up the corners one last time.

We hurry through the final motions and I check myself in the mirror before we both hit the door. I pull her to a stop before she can leave for the third floor. “Real talk. How much trouble am I in?”

Nikki rolls her eyes. “You’re such a drama queen.” She pulls me in for a quick hug and it grounds me. Friends are far and few between and I will miss this bond with my one friend the most when I finally have enough in the bank to leave.

With that, we pull away and go our separate ways. As soon as I step out onto the floor, I shed the persona of the real world and become a fantasy woman of Lex.

In the shadows, tray in hand I take my first order to a hidden booth in the back. Curtains are drawn, and in this world, there is no telling what I’ll find going on behind the river of satin. Lights along the floor light my way and I discreetly slide three mojitos over black napkins, eyes downcast as we’ve been trained.

I move to slip from the curtain when a meaty hand latches onto the fleshy part of my ass.

“Where are you going? Join the fun, baby.” The slurred offer comes from an aged man who likes cigars most likely from the gargling sound of his rough voice. It reminds me of my father and I shiver in repulsion.

With a little adrenaline left over in my system from my time with said asshole, the need to lash out takes over. I throw the man’s hand off my body and jerk back, stumbling into another patron’s booth, heaving their curtain aside.

Shocked faces, hard nipples and a man’s fully erect shaft greet me. Oh shit!

I manage to regain my balance when heavy hands settle over my shoulders. Not like Muscles from earlier, but with authority nonetheless.

They turn me around and I promptly almost trip over my jaw. When I drag my eyes off the man who dared lay a hand on me, I’m met with a sight that has me melting into the floor. Only it doesn’t swallow me whole like I wish it would.

I suck in a breath, feeling the heat in my body rush to gather in my cheeks all at once. Out of fear mostly, but from a thrill of unexpected excitement too. The shivering chill returns and runs its cold fingers down my back.

“Mr. Montgomery, Mr. Hudson,” I breathe out heavily.

Broad shoulders and muscled chests covered in yards of expensivelytailored suits fill my vision. The two sets of nearly black eyes pinning me to the floor belong to men who tower over me. Enough to where I have to tilt my head up to hold their gazes. And the longer I look the more I realize the scowl they wear only makes them look more devilishly handsome.

Their combined scent wraps around me first and that should have sent off warning bells, but I’m stupid and only think about who has their hands on me instead of the why behind the action.

Wow. How pathetic can I get?

Thumping waves of deep-based music pulsate through the darkness. With it comes soft, feminine cries and moans of pleasure. Hearing them always touches something inside me. No matter how cold and indifferent I try to be, I can’t completely shut down that side of myself. The side that wants to be touched in the same way after a long day. Instead of being greeted by the cold apartment I can barely afford or comforted by my one-day dream of Rio.

One thing is completely obvious right now. While my world screeches to an instant halt, the people around us continue their deep dive into carnal pleasures completely unaware of my plight.

One look around me and I know I am alone. Like always.

The one named Grey steps away briefly to murmur something to a passing waitress who hurries off. Probably a complimentary drink or another escort to appease the clientele who are never wrong.

While I get a pink slip.

“Ms. Kane,” the man named Drake draws out my name, his voice deep and smooth as whiskey poured over leather. “Come with us.” His hair is cut short, revealing an earpiece. He briefly touches it, eyes on me, and says, “I’m bringing her to you now.”

I swallow heavily. “Bringing me to where?” I ask, my voice shaking. The first thing I’m going to do when I get back home is to find a steel door, lock it and never step outside again. I can’t seem to stay out of trouble any other way, I swear.

Instead of answering me, Drake eases his large, warm hand from my shoulder and glides it down to settle on the dip of my lower back. The small section just under my bodice leaves about four inches of exposed skin and he expertly finds the one area that turns me to complete putty. It is not even a full-on palm-to-skin touch either. Just the tips of his fingers against my skin. Commanding, yet patient as well.

This man knows how to tease the senses with the lightest of touches without even trying. To keep his prey off their game, probably.

Instead of pushing me roughly where he wants me to go, he uses only the warm tips of his fingers to gently guide me through a lowly-lit hallway that seems endless at first. Moments later we climb a set of stairs tucked behind a door leading to a section of the club off-limits to people in my position.

The second floor is for higher paying customers and the things commoners like myself are not privy to. Not quite the Attic, but not first level either.

I clamp my fists at my sides to keep my hands from trembling.

Shameful as it is, the sensations of Drake’s barely- there touch draws out buried fantasies of having more of him touch me from the dark corners of my mind.

Just as we reach the top of the stairs Grey comes up behind us and I feel a solid wall of heat and power surrounding me.

Inky hair as black as midnight encases a face pulled into a stern expression.

I turn abruptly, settling my hands over his hard chest. I feel more than see Drake’s eyes watching my every move. “Truly, please believe me when I say I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to react the way I did. I wasn’t expecting the man to grab me like that.”

Silence.

“Please. Don’t fire me. I really need this job.” I’ve never begged before. Am I doing it wrong? Realizing my actions, I jerk my hands back but I’m too slow. Grey’s are already covering mine, holding me in place.

Trapped.

Beneath my palms I feel his steady heartbeat strong and uniform. Cool and collected. I stare up at him in pure female fascination, suddenly understanding how women could fall for the bad guys when they look this beautiful.

My gaze slides to Drake’s and black eyes rake over me, making me feel exposed. Then gradually they ease up to meet mine. I swear I see a flash of interest shine in the depths of his eyes. While I’m still trying to digest that information, out of nowhere the gorgeous assassin mobster-I don’t know here, I’m taking a stab in the dark at their job titles-smiles. And wow what a smile.

Grey’s voice rumbles beneath my hands. “When you face Sylan, I think the last thing you’ll be worried about is your job.”

God, his voice makes my nipples tighten. I can’t help but wonder what his hands could do to me. And if that’s not bad enough, I can’t take my eyes off the way the light dances off his razor-sharp jawline.

I mentally admonish myself for the direction of my thoughts. Easier to think of how attractive they are rather than the way I know this evening will end, I suppose.

I take a shaky breath. “What will happen now?” I don’t try to hide the tremble in my voice.

Taking my hand in his, Grey pulls me down yet another hallway. Drake is beside us, a light hand on my other arm.

“He’s being removed from the club as we speak. Rest assured he won’t lay another hand on you again.”

I stumble at Grey’s words and a strong hand steadies me. “Excuse me?” Wait. “Sorry, but that’s not what I meant.”

Grey slides me a look that has me clamping my mouth closed. My brain screams for a pause button but it’s clear I’ve jumped from the fire into the frying pan and there is no friend I can reach out to back me up this time.

“It won’t happen again. I’m sorry. You gotta believe me. Maybe we can forget about all this and call it a night?”

Drake curses softly, exchanging a look with his buddy overtop my head like the other said too much.

Mobsters with morals? I recognized the face of the man who grabbed my ass and billionaires tended to get what they wanted, not the flat-broke waitress with a dangerous attraction to her three bosses.

Both Drake and Grey usher me through a door into a darkened room. I blink several times to adjust my eyes and even then, I still can’t make out anything other than the glaring monitors showing various angles of all the club floors. Even the Attic.

My brows shoot up. “Oh my.”All rights © NôvelDrama.Org.

Surveillance. So that’s how they arrived so quickly on the main floor. Not one section of the club goes unwatched from the looks of it.

“Step into the light,” a deep voice sounds off to my right.

I glance around for the source but only see various shades of darkness.

I turn my face up to Grey and Drake who only silently return my stare.

Great. No help there. Not sure what I expect from them, but one thing is for damn sure. I am so getting fired over this.