by Lane Hart
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Epilogue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
COPYRIGHT
This book is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents, and dialogue were created from the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual people or events is coincidental.
The author acknowledges the copyrighted and trademarked status of various products within this work of fiction.
© 2018 Editor's Choice Publishing
All Rights Reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. Only Amazon is authorized to offer this e-book for sale. Any other individuals, sites, or stores distributing or sharing a copy of this work are therefore in violation of federal copyright infringement and should be reported to the publisher or author immediately.
Editor’s Choice Publishing
P.O. Box 10024
Greensboro, NC 27404
Edited by Angela Snyder
Cover by Addendum Designs
http://addendumdesigns.com/
WARNING: THIS STORY CONTAINS ADULT LANGUAGE AND EXPLICIT SEX SCENES.
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Epilogue
Chapter One
Ivan Rivers
Deep down, I’ve always felt like I was meant for greatness.
But who am I kidding?
Growing up as a poor orphan raised by the mafia, the only sliver of greatness I’ll have in this lifetime will have to be earned with my fists.
Bouncing on the balls of my feet to keep my body warm, I wait for the referee to give the signal and start the fight.
Tonight’s not my first time in the cage, but it is the first time that I’ve fought against an opponent by choice.
Thanks to the Irish mob boss, Liam O’Donnell, taking over the criminal empire following a fallout with the Italians, I was given the choice to fight or leave and find a new career. There was nothing holding me to this violent sport, but I stuck around because I actually like it.
Being able to physically dominate another man the same size as me or bigger is a head rush. It makes me feel invincible, at least for a few minutes. Most importantly, the training is preparing me for the ultimate fight that I’ve been waiting for my whole life.
The bell rings, and then the ref slices his hand through the air, giving me and the pudgy but tall as fuck man with a closely shaved head standing across from me permission to attack each other.
Sure, I could come out swinging my fists like most fighters, or catch Paul Bunyan off guard with a roundhouse kick, but I don’t do either.
When the giant lumbers toward me at full speed like a round, human bowling ball, I step to the side and grab his arm to propel his forward momentum, sending him face first into the fence. The WWE move gives me complete access to his broad, hairy back, which I immediately jump on, locking my legs around his waist and throwing my left forearm across the front of his throat. I then clasp my right hand over my left to heave backward, cutting off his air while he tries to carry all of my weight on his shoulders.
After a moment, the guy falls to his knees as he tries to pry my arm from his throat. It doesn’t work; and within a few seconds of having his oxygen cut off, I ride him down to the canvas where he face-plants.
“Let him go!” the referee instructs as he waves me off, calling an end to the fight.
I haven’t even broken a sweat when I get to my feet and wait for the medical personnel they keep ringside to check on the unconscious man. The instant first aid is a nice benefit that we didn’t have when my boys and I were fighting for the Italian mob. It’s surprising that only one fighter died in Mario’s pits.
“Wow, man,” my best friend, Knox, says when he comes into the cage with a bottle of water outstretched in his hand. He’s also my corner guy tonight before he has his own fight. “What the hell was that, some pro wrestling shit?” he asks. “And when can you teach me how to do it?”
I chuckle as I accept the water from him, not that I’m thirsty but just because I want something to do while we wait for them to help my opponent up.
“So, I guess that means we’re heading to Escapades tonight, huh?” Knox asks.
“We?” I repeat since I don’t want to think about half-naked women right now or the anxiety they cause me. “Don’t you have to win first before it’s we?”
“Shiiiit, I’ve got this in the bag,” he says with an unconcerned wave of his hand.
“If you say so,” I tell him.
Usually I would decline the invitation to the strip club but for once in my life I’m starting to feel…normal. Maybe it’s even time I try to get up the courage to date. What better place for my ego to start than a club where the women get paid to pretend they like you?
Chapter Two
Maylin O’Donnell
My life is so fucked up.
No eighteen-year-old girl should be in a raunchy strip club her father manages on a Friday night. Yet, here I am, sitting in front of his intimidatingly large wooden desk that’s probably covered in more cum than a porn star, waiting for him to tell me why the hell my two bodyguards, who recently started watching me every second of the day, dragged me down here. I’d much rather be home in bed, curled up watching sappy movies on Netflix with a bag of popcorn in my hand. In an attempt to show my annoyance at having to be here, I decided to wear one of the shortest blue dresses I own. I’ve been in here for several minutes, and he still hasn’t commented on how slutty I look, which is definitely a record.
When my father pulls out the glass flask from inside the breast of his pristine, black suit jacket, removes the cap and chugs it, I know I’m not gonna like the answer as to why I’m here so late at night in his strip club.
“M
aylin…” he starts, then pauses to take another long swig.
“Just spit it out already so I can go home,” I tell him, crossing my arms over my chest as I slump into my chair. “What’s going on? Why couldn’t you just call me instead of having Tweedledee and Tweedledum bring me in here? This place is so disgusting that I may get an STD just by breathing the air.”
“There’s not much time for me to explain to you what’s going on, and I couldn’t leave the club unsupervised tonight,” he replies pausing to take more chugs from the flask.
“Time for you to explain what?” I ask impatiently.
Spearing his fingers through his red hair identical to mine in frustration, he says, “Maylin, I’ve done something you’re not gonna like.”
“What else is new? You do plenty of things I don’t like,” I respond with a sigh.
“I know, but this time my decision will directly affect you.”
Whether he realizes it or not, all of my father’s shady ass decisions affect me, so I just wait to hear which block he’s about to remove from the unstable Jenga tower of my life that he’s built.
“You see, I made a very important agreement this morning with Jimmy Russo. The Italians have been at war with us for over ten years. He’s agreed to peaceful terms, a partnership of sorts that will end the bloodshed. I’ve lost too many good men and don’t want to see any more of them end up in the cemetery.”
“Okay, that sounds like a good thing,” I reply, knowing that less dead men on the streets is progress. My father may be an Irish crime boss, but there’s still a good man deep down inside him. Sure, he’s the head of an organization that sells drugs, prostitutes and all sorts of other illegal things, but I don’t think he enjoys killing other men. And since he took over the territory of the now incarcerated Italian, Mario Guerra, there’s been lots of killing.
“This deal is a very good thing, for both sides and for business,” my father agrees. “But not for you.”
“What does that mean?” I ask in confusion. That Jimmy fucker is the reason the two meatheads waiting in the hallway are constantly on my ass lately, to provide protection from him and any other of my father’s rivals.
My father tips the flask to his lips and, after finding it apparently empty, he hurls it over my head where it hits the wall and shatters, causing me to visibly flinch. It’s not like him to show anger in front of me. I’m his one and only baby girl. Whatever fucked up morals he has, he would never hurt me on purpose — this I know for a fact.
“I’m so sorry, sweetheart,” he starts. “But goddammit, tomorrow…tomorrow I promised to give you to Russo.”
An invisible fist suddenly rams into my gut, knocking all the air from my lungs.
“Give me to him?” I whisper. “Daddy, what do you mean you’re gonna give me to him?”
“I don’t have a choice!” he stands up and yells, pounding both fists on the desk.
“Yes, you do!” I argue. “How about just telling him no?”
“If I refuse, he won’t stop until he’s killed me and everyone associated with me, my dealers, my dancers, my whores, my fighters, and eventually…you.”
“Why can’t someone else be the sacrificial lamb?” I ask as unshed tears begin to sting my eyes.
“I tried, Maylin. I did! He’s seen you, and he…he wants you. Only you. Russo knows that as long as he has you I would never raise a hand against him or his people for fear…”
“For fear that he would kill me?” I finish for him, quickly understanding the situation.
“Or worse. He would do much, much worse,” my father states.
“Oh. My. God,” I mutter. I’ll be a fucking hostage. My father wants to give me to a ruthless son of a bitch who could kill me at any moment? “How long?” I ask through gritted teeth. “How long did you agree to let him have me?”
Swallowing so hard his Adam’s apple bobs, he answers, “Jimmy’s dead set on marrying you–”
“Marrying me!” I exclaim, jumping up from my chair. “I have to be his prisoner and his wife? What is wrong with you? How could you do this to me?” My tears have broken free and are streaming down both cheeks.
If we’re married, that means he’ll want me to live with him, in the same house, in the same…bed. Forever. Oh yuck! I don’t want to sleep with an old man I’ve never met! That’s not exactly what I had in mind for my first time. I thought I could at least play a part in deciding who I would have sex with. After all these years, my father has kept boys away from me because I thought my virginity was important to him too. Guess I was wrong.
“There’s nothing else I can do, May! This is the only thing to keep you and everyone else safe!”
“That’s such bullshit!” I yell back at him. I won’t be safe with his enemy and he damn well knows it! “You could’ve done anything but just hand me over to him!”
“You’re right. And you don’t have to do this for me, Maylin. There is another choice. You can go home, pack your things and leave. Take all the money from the safe along with your passport. Otis and Winston will help you get out of the country.”
“And then what?” I ask, my anger deflating now that I know my father is not requiring this of me. Even worse, he’s placing this monumental decision on my shoulders! How could I ever live with the guilt if I run? “You and everyone in this building will probably die if I leave? Mothers, fathers, sons and daughters, all because of me?”
“Yes,” he answers, slumping back down in his big leather chair. “But I would rather us all die than force you into a life with Russo. I want this to be your decision.”
“Jeez, Daddy. You know I can’t run. There’s no way I would do that to you or anyone else.”
Clearing his throat, he lowers his eyes and says, “Think it over. You have until noon tomorrow to decide.”
“Yeah, okay,” I tell him, although there’s nothing to think about. Even if I didn’t give a shit about my father or his people, Gabby, one of my best friends from school, would probably be in the cross-hairs of an all-out mafia war. Her and her boyfriend and friends…
“Come here,” my father says, standing up and holding open his arms for a hug. Even though I want to hate him for putting me in this position, he’s all I’ve got left in this world. He’s taken care of me and tried to give me a normal life growing up without a mother, doing the best he can. All he’s ever known is the life of crime thanks to my grandfather.
I go over and let his arms wind around me in a long embrace. Could I walk away knowing my father will die? God, no. But that doesn’t mean I’m happy about the alternative that it looks like I’m stuck with...
“No matter what, I love you, my sweet May.”
“Love you, too,” I tell him before I take a step back. When my father sits down at his desk to work, I know I’ve been dismissed. I spin around on my heels and shuffle back out to the hallway where the twin goons are waiting. I hate having them crowd me right now when all these thoughts are swirling in my head unable to be processed yet.
“I need to use the ladies' room, okay?” I tell them since I’m sure my face is a mess. “Nothing will happen to me in here, so I’ll meet you out front.”
The two giant idiots look at each other before they finally nod their approval and I escape into the women’s bathroom, glad to finally have a few minutes to myself.
Chapter Three
Ivan
Tonight I fought a man and won.
I was actually paid pretty well for it too. And the fight sure as fuck wasn’t rigged. Just me and another man in the cage, going at it, may the best win.
And I was the best, putting my opponent to sleep in the first few seconds.
The small victory feels…freeing. Like I’m finally doing something for myself for the very first time after being born and raised in a brothel, watching my mother die right before my eyes, and then growing up in a mafia orphanage where I was trained to fight for them.
They no longer own me. I’m free to do whatever the hell I
want, when I want, now that Mario has been thrown in prison and the Irish took over the Italians for the top spot in the pyramid of criminals in town, at least for now.
This new sensation of freedom is the only reason why I let Knox drag me to the strip club, Escapades, for the very first time. For far too long I’ve been letting my past control me. Tonight proved that my future is in my hands now. It’s time I start living.
“Look around, bro,” Knox says from his leather seat beside me. “Any girl in this place is yours to take home tonight. Gotta love King Ginger for keeping up that tradition.” I assume by King Ginger Knox means Liam O’Donnell, the head of the Irish.
“I dunno man, are you sure they really want to…” I start while tugging on the shrinking collar of my light blue tee.
“Do they want to fuck us? Hell yes. That’s what these girls get paid to do,” Knox answers.
“I thought they got paid to take their clothes off and give lap dances.”
“Well, yeah, but fucking pays a lot more. And fucking a fighter pays double that, ain’t that right, gorgeous?” Knox asks the topless blonde beauty, who comes over and straddles his lap to put her tits in his face.
“Oh yeah,” she moans as she grinds down on Knox’s lap. “Did you win again tonight, big man?”
“You know it, baby,” Knox answers with a smug grin.
“Are you gonna take me home?” she asks while kissing his ear.
“Guess you’ll have to wait and see,” he tells her with a slap on her ass that’s bare other than a thong. “My boy, Ivan, gets to call first dibs tonight.”
“That’s okay–” I start to say since I’m still not a hundred percent sure my head can go through with this, despite the encouragement of my cock lengthening in my jeans. What if I take a girl home and then only end up embarrassing myself?
“Don’t start that shit!” Knox argues. “You’re going home with one of these girls tonight. I’ll pick one for you if I have to.”
