Made Men 3: The Red Slipper
Caprice dreams of being onstage. She’s so close, but her father’s debt to a loan shark is taking its toll. The break she gets could make a difference. The money, the exposure…and she wouldn’t need to do the burlesque show and be a backup singer at The Red Slipper any longer.
The last thing she expected was for Club Magique to belong to the Fiorre brothers, the three made men she had the week of her life with in the D.R. and then let go. She doesn’t want them to know about the loan shark, about the crappy place she lives in, or how bad things really are. She’s been hiding the situation, even from her best friends, in hopes that she can pay off the last nineteen thousand owed.
But then that loan shark decides it’s more than money he wants from Caprice, and maybe her father and mother aren’t really helping, after all.
Maybe the only ones she can really count on are the three men she keeps pushing away.
Genre: Contemporary, Ménage a Trois/Quatre, Romantic Suspense
Length: 47,541 words
MADE MEN 3: THE RED
SLIPPER
Dixie Lynn Dwyer

Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK
MADE MEN 3: THE RED SLIPPER
Copyright © 2017 by Dixie Lynn Dwyer
ISBN: 978-1-64010-030-5
First Publication: March 2017
Cover design by Les Byerley
All art and logo copyright © 2017 by Siren Publishing, Inc.
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.
All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.
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PUBLISHER
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
DEDICATION
Dear readers,
Thank you for purchasing this legal copy of Made Men 3: The Red Slipper.
Caprice is a hard-working woman, achieving her dreams and trying to be successful on her own. In a flash, that is taken from her, all because of a personal need to make her parents happy. She’s strived for love and pride from them and they don’t really care at all. It will take nearly being sold for her talented voice to a group of men, ready to exploit not only her talents but her body, to get her to wise up.
Resisting the three men she already loves and accepting their help could be the only way to keep her alive.
May you enjoy her story as she realizes what happiness really is as well as how powerful and real true love can be.
Happy reading.
Hugs!
Dixie
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
People seem to be more interested in my name than where I get my ideas for my stories from. So I might as well share the story behind my name with all my readers.
My momma was born and raised in New Orleans. At the age of twenty, she met and fell in love with an Irishman named Patrick Riley Dwyer. Needless to say, the family was a bit taken aback by this as they hoped she would marry a family friend. It was a modern day arranged marriage kind of thing and my momma downright refused.
Being that my momma’s families were descendants of the original English speaking Southerners, they wanted the family blood line to stay pure. They were wealthy and my father’s family was poor.
Despite attempts by my grandpapa to make Patrick leave and destroy the love between them, my parents married. They recently celebrated their sixtieth wedding anniversary.
I am one of six children born to Patrick and Lynn Dwyer. I am a combination of both Irish and a true Southern belle. With a name like Dixie Lynn Dwyer it’s no wonder why people are curious about my name.
Just as my parents had a love story of their own, I grew up intrigued by the lifestyles of others. My imagination as well as my need to stray from the straight and narrow made me into the woman I am today.
Enjoy The Red Slipper and allow your imagination to soar freely.
For all titles by Dixie Lynn Dwyer, please visit
www.bookstrand.com/dixie-lynn-dwyer
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
About the Author
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Epilogue
Landmarks
Cover
MADE MEN 3: THE RED
SLIPPER
DIXIE LYNN DWYER
Copyright © 2017
Prologue
Caprice adjusted the wig, checked out her makeup, and smoothed her hands down the tight corset. She was on in just a few minutes, and what a hell of a packed crowd they had tonight. She felt she looked good—sexy and provocative with the short blond wig, black and red sequined bustier, and deep cleavage adorned in jeweled necklaces. Despite loving this job, she still got a bit of butterflies in her belly when she had to go onstage with the other women. She didn’t have stage fright, and knew there was no room for that if she wanted a solo act. The bonus was the wig, all the makeup, and attire that was so out of her true character. This was stage life in burlesque, and somehow, she loved it all.
She glanced at Meredith, the lead singer and performer in the burlesque show. She was a sexy, tall, thin redhead with attitude and a tongue of fire. She lived and breathed burlesque, and those around her ate it up. She had been at this for years, established a following, and was tight with the owner of the place, Victor Brady.
Caprice only worked here two nights a week as a backup singer and dancer for Meredith. It was a special kind of entertainment. The costumes were super sexy, and she worked Wednesday and Friday nights. Monday through Wednesday, she worked part time as a paralegal during the day for a shitty firm in Brooklyn, and she picked up odd bartending jobs or singing gigs on the weekends. She wished for more hours here at the Red Slipper, and an opportunity for a solo act, but nothing was available yet. At least it took her mind off Billy O’Hare and her dad’s debt to him.
She wouldn’t be surprised if Kiernan or one of his other buddies was out there in the audience. When they found out she worked at the Red Slipper, they showed up a time or two. It unnerved her, and she expected a visit backstage, but it seemed they didn’t have the pull with the owner like other big shots did. She hoped Kiernan wasn’t there. She feared that man.
She thought about her father and wondered if he’d gotten that small electrician job helping an old buddy out. He must have, because her mom hadn’t seen her dad in a few days. They could use the money to pay O’Hare. If her dad worked more, then she wouldn’t need to do all these jobs, and could even look for more professional work. She wasn’t getting any younger, and she couldn’t seem to catch a break.
“On in one minute,” Brandy called out, and then came over to Caprice.
“Hey, gorgeous. I got something to tell you after the performance,” she whispered, hugging Caprice’s arm. Brandy was a little spitfire with attitude. She was dating a good friend of Victor Brady’s, a guy named Ivan. He was six feet four, filled with muscles, and known as the crazy Russian. The guy adored Brandy.
“What is it?” Caprice asked.
“We need to go. Later,” she said, and they headed out toward the stage, the crowd cheering as Meredith took position front and center and began to wiggle her hips. The men howled and roared and people cheered. Caprice wished for that. She loved being onstage, but the opportunities to sing solo were few and far between. All she knew was that when she had an opportunity to perform, she gave her best and wanted to leave everyone with the memory of her performance and her voice. She was five feet five and platinum blond, with emerald green eyes that stood out as much as her hair.
When she got offers for auditions and it seemed like she had a shot at a solo someplace, she got hit on and guys would try to persuade her into bed with promises of putting her front and center on stage. She never fell for that crap. She dealt in reality, learning very quickly that people were nice only when they wanted something from her. Except for her girlfriends. Them, she trusted her life with.
As the music continued and Caprice took position as backup singer to Meredith, she wished for the opportunities to arise for the chance to be a star, and make the money she needed and deserved to make. As it was, she barely made rent in her shitty place, and there were always problems.
Her father hardly worked. He took odd jobs, whatever he could get. Her mother pretended that everything was okay, even though it wasn’t. They lived in a one-bedroom apartment, and Caprice was grateful to have moved out before college and remained on her own since. It wasn’t like she even had a good relationship with her father. He was a bit abusive, drank too much, and even gambled. When she’d left, she’d thought she could put her folks behind her and not bother with them. She paid her own way, got some scholarships for college, and worked nights at clubs like this, making tips.
When she graduated, she got a good job, but wanted to pursue a singing and dancing career. That wasn’t easy in a city like New York. She was doing well financially, though. She had a steady job, got to do some gigs and feed her desire and need to sing, and then it all changed.
What she hadn’t expected to happen a year ago was to be threatened by three men, taken into a van after work, and roughed up. That was the scariest night of her life and it could have been worse. To this day, she was petrified of Kiernan, one of Billy O’Hare’s muscle. She didn’t know why they hadn’t raped her. Touching her breasts, threatening to take from her body or use her as a cash whore, was enough for her to fear them and do whatever they wanted.
Her father’s gambling debts suddenly became hers that night, because she worked and made money. Twenty thousand more to go, and even working two jobs plus any odd jobs she could get wasn’t going to make a dent in that twenty grand fast enough. Which was why, after this performance tonight, she had to go sing while Murdock played piano for a private gathering at Billy O’Hare’s penthouse. It would be super boring, but it paid a thousand dollars, and that meant money toward her father’s debt. At the end of the night, whenever that turned out to be, she would hand that thousand over to Mr. O’Hare—or, unfortunately, Kiernan—and the debt would go down a bit.
She sang the next part of the song and knew her voice stood out even more than Meredith’s, but Meredith was sleeping with the boss, so Caprice’s chances of being discovered and given the opportunity for a solo were slim to none. That was her life. No opportunities for freedom or much-needed sleep. Only work, work, and more work with a cloud of debt, struggle, and longing over her head.
As the act ended and the crowd cheered, she made her way off stage with everyone saying how wonderful it was, and Meredith fanning her cheeks and giving Caprice a smile.
“You did well, Caprice. Just maybe practice the high note some more. I picked up on a little unevenness in your tone,” Meredith said with attitude, then headed to her private dressing room.
Caprice felt her jaw drop, but then Brandy was there, laughing and pulling her by her arm and whispering into her ear.
“The bitch is so fucking jealous. She knows that you’re better than she is. God, how I wish you had a chance to sing on stage solo. This place would be rocking.”
“I don’t know about that. Besides, no use in getting my hopes up. It isn’t going to happen.”
Brandy smiled and led Caprice over toward the shared dressing area. Caprice was already thinking about how she was dividing the money she earned this week and tonight up to her bills. She still owed Brandy three hundred for the trip to D.R. she helped pay for. She was a good friend, too. God, if her other friends found out that she couldn’t afford to go to D.R. and had to borrow money from Brandy, they would flip. Her friends Bella, Adalina, Alessa, Alda, Donata, Fina, Giada, and Gisella would be angry at her. They would help her out in a snap, but she was embarrassed. She was even upset about the apartment she lived in and how run down it was. She longed to be back in D.R. and in Angelo’s, Vito’s, and Morano’s arms. She couldn’t stop thinking about them and the week they’d had together. It was a fantasy. An absolute fantasy and nothing more. She thought about seeing them at the birthday party and how pissed they were that she refused to continue where they left things off in D.R.
She just couldn’t. They came from different worlds. They deserved so much better than a struggling singer, a woman barely making ends meet. They would want to pay her bills, hell, even her father’s debt. She just knew that, and that would make her feel like a whore and nothing more. She needed to make ends meet and handle things on her own. If they wound up meeting again when her life was straightened out and she was in control, then so be it. She wasn’t holding her breath, though. They were made men, good-looking, sexy, wealthy, and hard-core. They could get any woman they wanted, and she was just a woman they met on a vacation and had sex with. That was all it was: sex with three men she thought she would never see again. Something she never did before and didn’t regret. Except maybe she regretted not engaging in anal sex and letting them take her together. That would have done her in. It was better this way.
“Okay, so Ivan let me know on the down low that a club in Manhattan, a really awesome, super-busy, high-class club, is looking for a new singer and performer.”
“What club?” Caprice asked.
Brandy smiled and could hardly keep her excitement under wraps. “Club Magique.”
Caprice widened her eyes and then swallowed hard.
“How did he find out about this?”
“He just did like thirty minutes ago, and he knows a guy who works with the performers. He got you an audition tomorrow morning at the club. Eight a.m., though, because other people are coming in to audition at nine.”
“Oh, my God, seriously?”
Brandy nodded her head and smiled. She grabbed onto Caprice and started hopping up and down. “You are going to rock it.”
Suddenly Caprice was feeling like maybe things could be improving for her. She glanced at her watch. “Shoot. I need to change and get going.”
“What gig do you have tonight?”
“A private party in a penthouse.”
“Wow. Big bucks?”
“Already-spent bucks,” Caprice said, and Brandy gave her a sympathetic smile.
“Hon, if you need more time to pay me back, then take it. I’m good, really. Ivan totally spoils me.”
“No. I said a few weeks and I meant it. Tonight I pay you the rest. I’m going to tell Victor to put the last three in an envelope for you, okay?”
“If you’re sure.”
“Definitely. Thank you so much for lending me the money.”
“Are you kidding? It was well worth it to know you were with yo
ur best friends and engaging in a sexual fling.”
“Sexual fling?”
“Honey, since you got back, you stare off sometimes with a smirk on your face and looking like a woman daydreaming about a man. I assumed you met someone and decided to let go and be free. Kind of like Vegas. No one needs to know a thing,” Brandy said and smirked.
Caprice smiled softly. Brandy was right. She did daydream about Angelo, Vito, and Morano. She wished for things she knew were out of her control and that would never happen. She had enough disappointments in her life. If she didn’t get a break soon and become a singer making some great money on stage, then she might have to throw in the towel and work for the government as a paralegal for some scumbag defense attorneys who were always busy representing criminals. Steady work, steady income—so who needed satisfaction or happiness?
Chapter 1
“We need someone by next week, Angelo. I can move a few of the other acts around, but it will be temporary,” Alanna said to Angelo Fiorre.
Angelo looked at Charlie Bonnette, Alanna’s partner. They were both entertainment coordinators for Club Magique.
“I’m not going to pick some woman who can’t sing or dance worth a shit just because you feel pressured to fill the spot. I don’t even know why you’re bothering me with this shit. My brothers and I pay you well for your positions here. Figure it out. We want someone good. Someone different, sexy, provocative, talented.” He raised his eyebrows up at Charlie. Charlie half chuckled. Angelo knew that Charlie liked the woman they were suggesting for this singing spot at the club. She had a great body, was flirty with him, but her voice was so-so. They needed talent. Talent was what brought the crowds coming back for more.
Made Men 3: The Red Slipper (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) Page 1
