The Cardinal (The Holy Trinity Duet Book 2)

by M. E. Clayton

  “Don’t talk about my sister like that,” I snapped.

  “You asked, I answered,” was his simple reply. “Now, I think I’ve been pleasant long enough. Bring me two-thousand more or else get the fuck out of my office.”

  “I can’t get two more,” I cried. “I barely qualified for the three I borrowed.”

  Paolo leaned forward and clasped his hands together on his desk. “Why are you bothering with her?” he asked. “She’s a lost cause. Surely, you can see that.”

  “She’s not a lost cause,” I argued. “And even if she was, she’s my sister.” I knew a lot of people would tell me to cut my losses where Caitlin was concerned but I just couldn’t. Not yet. I still had hope for her, and I couldn’t live with myself if I gave up on her without exhausting all my options.

  What people forget was that Caitlin wasn’t always an addict. At one point in time, she’d been a good girl who played with me and helped raise me. That’s the sister I wasn’t ready to walk away from. I could still see that Caitlin.

  Paolo accused me of not recognizing her for the junkie she is today, but that wasn’t true. I saw it. It was hard to miss. However, that still didn’t mean she was beyond being saved. No one was beyond being saved. As with most families with addicts, the choice came when things got dangerous. The heartache of having to choose only came when things got dangerous for others. We weren’t there yet, and until we were, I’d do what I could to help my sister.

  Paolo’s beady eyes raked my person before gracing me with one of the slimiest grins I’d ever seen. “How about we make a deal?”

  No fucking way was I sleeping with this asshole to cancel Caitlin’s debt.

  “Our grand opening is this weekend,” he said, not letting me speak. “The prediction is that it will be very busy, money flowing throughout the place like a river.” He scanned me up and down again. “You’re very stunning and have a body that should never have clothes on it. How about you work the VIP room this weekend? Hand over everything you make, and we’ll call it even.”

  “I’m not fucking customers for you,” I spat, disgusted. “I’m not that-”

  Paolo laughed, cutting me off. “Damn, aren’t you a secret little spitfire.” I bit my tongue. “No one said anything about you fucking the customers, Ms. Turner.”

  “Then what are you talking about?”

  He leaned back in his chair. “It’s simple,” he replied. “Though this place is crawling with beautiful women, you’re more than beautiful. You’re the type of stunning that stops traffic. The blonde hair, blue eyes, big rack, thick hips, and all natural, you don’t belong in this place.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  Paolo cocked his head, regarding me. “You’ll stand out, Ms. Turner. You’ll stand out in a way that is going to make the men in here salivate. You’ll be the one they want, but the only one they can’t have.” He smirked. “By the time Friday and Saturday night are over, you’ll probably be handing over close to ten-grand and that’s an eight-thousand dollar come up for yours truly.”

  I shook my head. “You’re giving my appearance way too much credit,” I told him. “Blonde-haired, blue-eyed women are a dime a dozen. Even with my figure.”

  “It’s not just your looks,” he said. “It’s the fact that you don’t belong here. A virgin in a brothel if you will.”

  “I’m not a virgin,” I drawled out.

  “In this place, you are,” he countered. “You are innocence in a place where there is none.”

  A part of me worried that this was too good to be true, but if I didn’t have to have sex with anybody, then what’s the worst that could happen? And so what if he took all my money? As long as the debt was paid, that’s all that mattered.

  “I’m not having sex with anyone,” I repeated. “I mean it.”

  He waved away my concern. “If I had any desire to turn you out, Ms. Turner, I wouldn’t do it on your first weekend here,” he replied. “It’s all about the chase.”

  I thought about that, but at the end of the day, I really wasn’t in the position to look a gift horse in the mouth. “Okay,” I agreed. “What time do I need to be here?”

  His smile wasn’t reassuring at all. “Wait right here, Ms. Turner.”

  I stayed put as he left the room, nerves threatening to knock some sense into me, but before I could make a mad dash for it, Paolo returned, tossing something on my lap.

  “That’s The Eagle waitressing uniform,” he said. “And might I suggest you make sure you’re shaved in all the right places because that outfit leaves very little to the imagination.”

  I picked up the two garments he’d thrown in my lap and the man wasn’t lying. The top was a tank-top with straps that didn’t look strong enough to hold up A-cups, let alone my full D-cups. And the shorts weren’t even shorts. They looked closer to boy shorts which were underwear and not shorts at all.

  I looked over at Paolo. “There’s no way I’ll be able to fit into this.”

  “I have a very good eye for these things,” he remarked. “That size is perfect for you.”

  I wanted to argue that he needed to have his eyes checked but I knew it’d be pointless. I’ve already agreed to this bullshit, so there was nothing left to do but see it play out.

  Standing up, I shoved the clothes in my purse, because, of course, they fit in there, and asked, “What time do I start on Friday?”

  “Be here at eight.”

  “Do I ask for you?”

  He nodded. “I’ll get you situated with what you have to know, then we’ll go from there.”

  “Every dime and she’s in the clear, right?”

  “For the debt she owes now, yes,” he answered. “But I think I’ll be seeing a lot of you in the future, Ms. Turner, if you keep insisting on running to Caitlin’s rescue.”

  I didn’t say anything to that. Instead, I just walked out of his office. Besides, deep down, I knew there was nothing I could say.

  Chapter 7

  Salvatore~

  The place was packed, drinks were flowing, money was being spent, and there was nothing but prime pussy on stage and serving drinks.

  Paolo had outdone himself with the women he had handpicked to work here. We had every hair color, eye color, skin color, and body shape you could think of to cater to anyone’s specific tastes. Contrary to what society has claimed, not every man was attracted to big tits, big lips, and a big ass. Some men liked them petite. Some men liked them rail thin. Some men liked the plastic look. Men were visual creatures, and it was all about that one vision that did it for them. And there was no exact reason for why something turned us on when something else didn’t. We were attracted to what we were attracted to and it really was quite that simple.

  “Sal, my man, this place is perfect,” Hector Franco said, his hand caressing the bare thigh of the woman who had just served him his drink. “No better place to do business, yeah?”

  Hector Franco was one of Alonso Rubio’s henchmen, along with Micha Regio. Both have been with Alonso for years and the only two I had allowed to this meeting. I had my guard, Carlo, and one of my Capos, Raymond. Three on three, so that way it looked less threatening. Especially, when we laid our refusal on the table.

  “We like it,” I remarked lazily.

  “I don’t think I’ve ever seen so much prime pussy in one place, Benetti,” Micha added. “I’m definitely getting my dick wet before the night is through.”

  “As long as she’s willing, you can have whatever you want, Micha,” I told him, making sure I was clear on the consensual part of it.

  Right now, we had three servers rotating the VIP room along with four women just hanging out for stimulation purposes. As the night wore on, the four props would soon be naked, making out with each other or servicing Alonso and his men. No matter how tense shit might get when we refuse to negotiate, there was no doubt the pussy in the room will calm the men down.

  Hector let out a low whistle. “Fuck all these other bitches,” he
said. “That’s the one I want.”

  The five other male heads in the room turned towards the VIP entrance and it was as if the casual air in the room had been sucked out, only to be replaced with sinful fires, licking at every corner of the room.

  She was fucking breathtaking.

  At only about five-foot-four, she had silvery-blonde hair, bright blue eyes, a face that looked like it belonged on a doll, and a body that could cause a fucking riot in the streets.

  Dressed in The Eagle’s standard cocktail uniform, she might as well be naked with every curve on display. The uniform conformed to her body like liquid silk and there wasn’t an inch of her body that you couldn’t help but want to brand.

  And because this was a strip club with uniforms that represented that fact, you couldn’t wear a bra with the tank top, so you could still make out her nipples, though they weren’t hard. And the shorts were so nonexistent, her plump pussy lips were peeking out between her thighs as she walked towards us.

  And because I was such an observant fuck, there was no missing how uncomfortable she seemed or how it was clear that this woman didn’t belong here. Her blue eyes refused to make eye contact with anyone in the room and her movements were stiff.

  I watched her as she picked up the empty glasses, careful not to bend over like most cocktail waitresses looking for big tips. While the other two waitresses were busy filling and fetching our orders, this was the first time this one’s been in here and it was just to grab the empty glasses and go, apparently.

  When she approached the end table closest to Hector, he said, “What’s your name, sweetheart?”

  The glass she had collected dropped on her serving tray, nearly tipping over. “Uh…Blake,” she answered softly, still refusing to make eye contact.

  “Blake,” Hector repeated, tasting her name on his tongue. “I like it.”

  Before I could tell him to leave her alone, one of the other waitresses came back into the room and went about the reason she was here. “Here, Mr. Franco,” she cooed, bending over enough to show Hector her tits and Micha her ass. “We wouldn’t want you to get thirsty, now.” Then she giggled and it was like nails on a chalkboard to my ears.

  I hated gigglers.

  “There’s nothing wrong with a little thirst,” Hector replied, pinching her left nipple, and she fucking giggled again.

  Blake, on the other hand, practically ran for the door, but before it could shut behind her, I noticed how she dropped back against the wall and took a deep, shuttering breath.

  Yeah, she definitely didn’t belong here.

  As the obvious brunette delivered the drinks, Hector asked, “How many constitutes greed?”

  Micha laughed. “There’s nothing greedy about sharing.”

  “There’s plenty to go around,” I assured them both. “Except for Blake. She’s off limits.”

  “Oh, c’mon, Sal,” Hector whined annoyingly. “You can’t parade something like that around in front of us and tell us hands off.”

  “She’s here to work,” I replied. “Nothing else.”

  “Or could be she just doesn’t know she has other options,” Micha suggested.

  “She’s off limits, gentlemen,” I repeated. “And while we’re at it, why not get to the reason you’re here in the first place. Pussy can wait.”

  “Of course,” Alonso agreed. “Women are such distractions, aren’t they?”

  Getting to the point of the meeting, I said, “It’s my understanding that you want to negotiate the terms of our agreement.”

  Alonso nodded. “From thirteen to fifteen.”

  I thought about that and it didn’t seem unreasonable. It was only two points, and since we’ve been doing business with Alonso for so many years, it wasn’t a power play. If it were, he’d have pushed for more a long time ago.

  He had to have said or done something to piss Luca off.

  I leaned forward in my seat. “What did you do to piss off my brother?”

  Hector and Micha shifted in their seats as Alonso cleared his throat a bit. “What makes you think-”

  My palm went up, stopping him. “You’re asking for two points, Alonso. And considering how many years we’ve been in business together your request isn’t entirely unreasonable.” I clasped my hands together between my knees. “If Luca refused you, there’s a reason.”

  Alonso cleared his throat again. “He may have gotten wind of some rumors he didn’t appreciate.”

  I leaned back in my seat. “What kind of rumors?”

  “We’d been thinking of dabbling in the flesh trade,” he admitted before quickly clearing up his statement. “But we decided against it.”

  Prostitution didn’t bother Luca. He didn’t mind the profession as long as the women were willing and treated fairly. So, the flesh trade Alonso was referring to could only mean one thing.”

  Human sex trafficking.

  “Alonso, you’re lucky Luca hasn’t terminated all association with you,” I told him. “And I’m afraid you’ve wasted your time in coming here to discuss this any further.”

  He nodded in resignation. “It was worth a shot,” he said. “But I did want to make it clear that we have steered clear of those other…business opportunities.”

  “That’s good to know,” I remarked. “But just so we’re clear, Luca won’t be so forgiving next time, Alonso.”

  “Understood.”

  Just then, the third cocktail waitress entered the room, and she was just as obvious as the brunette. “Is there anything more I can do for you, gentlemen?”

  Micha’s hand ran up her knee. “With business pretty much concluded, I can think of something more I might need.”

  She smiled at him coyly. “Well, just let me know…”

  I jerked my head, signaling the other women in the room, and they quickly walked over to drape themselves over the three guests we had and Carlo and Raymond. But when the redhead came to sit on my lap, I waved her away. For some inexplicable reason, I didn’t want Blake walking back into the room to see some random pussy fawning all over me.

  And that’s when I knew I was in trouble.

  I never gave a fuck what people thought, much less women who didn’t matter to me. Still, here I was, concerned at what this woman might think seeing me with another woman.

  Pretty sure I was fucked.

  Chapter 8

  Blake~

  I’d heard the guy when I had first walked in. I’d heard him saying he wanted me, and it had been by the sheer grace of God that I’d still been able to walk in there and collect the dirty glasses.

  When I had arrived to start my shift, I’d been introduced to a beautiful brunette named Elenore, and a stunning blonde named Trisha. At first, I’d been worried that they’d be the catty type, but they hadn’t been at all. Though, that might have been because I had asked them if it was okay for me to just collect the empty glasses and stay out of the way. Since I wasn’t a threat to their money, there’d been no reason to be nasty with me.

  The problem was that I hadn’t gone unnoticed as I had hoped. I knew the goal was to make two-thousand dollars by tomorrow night, but I didn’t want to earn it if there was even the slightest chance that one of those men in that room might mistake my purpose here.

  The outfit didn’t help, either.

  When Paolo had told me to make sure I was smooth in all the right places, he hadn’t been kidding. With every step I took, I feared the skimpy straps of the tank top might snap loose and the shorts were so short and form-fitting that I knew my business could be seen by all. If I could make out every detail of Elenore’s and Trisha’s bodies, then I knew people could make out my details.

  It was humiliating.

  But I just reminded myself that these men have probably seen it all. If you’ve seen one pair of tits, you’ve seen them all. Besides, the four women in the room with them should have been enough to entertain them.

  Except, that guy had said he wanted me.

  “Hey, chick, the glass
es are piling up.” I looked up and Trisha was smiling at me. “You need to get in there.”

  I gave her a grateful nod. “Oh, okay. Thanks.” She winked at me and I had to take a deep breath before going back in there.

  And good thing I had.

  Glancing around, it looked as if the business portion of the night had been concluded because the women that had been sitting on the other side of the room were now draped over the men. I tried to hide my shock when I noticed that one of the blondes had her dress strap pulled down her arm, her left breast bare, the man whose lap she sat on fondling it in front of everyone.

  I quickly averted my eyes and went about collecting the empty glasses. However, it wasn’t until a crisp one-hundred-dollar bill landed on my tray that I faltered. I looked up and the guy who had commented about me had a telling smirk on his face. He was ogling me even though he had a woman in his lap.

  There was something so wrong about taking the money, but I couldn’t lose sight of why I was here in the first place. So, giving him what I hoped was a decent smile, I said, “Thank you.”

  I turned to finish collecting the other glasses when he said, “Those are some sweet tits you got, sweetheart.”

  I froze, not knowing what to say or do.

  My tits were on display, so it was foul to feel offended by his words, but I didn’t want to be rude, nor did I want to encourage him. I had no idea what the appropriate thing to do was, but before I could figure out what to do, a deep, raspy voice said, “Here’s another one.”

  I looked up and green eyes seemed to look right through me.

  He had black hair that was styled loosely, the sides short, the top long enough to need styling. Arched brows sat over emerald eyes that were framed by thick black lashes. His nose was straight, his lips were full, and his jaw strong.