Seven Sins (Club Seven Alpha Series (Book 1))

by Jessica Hope

  Seven Sins

  Club Seven Alpha series Book #1

  Copyright © 2020 by Jessica Hope. All Rights Reserved.

  In no way, is it legal to produce, duplicate, or transmit any part of this book in electronic, digital, or printed format without the proper and express consent of the author or copyright owner. Recording this publication is strictly prohibited. Storage and republication of this book are also prohibited without the express written permission of the author or publisher.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Thank you

  Chapter One

  She could already smell the booze and cigar smoke wafting towards the parking lot. It filtered through the crisp air, assaulting her senses, and making her question, for the zillionth time that evening, what she was doing here. Melinda had a degree in business. She was supposed to be interviewing for Fortune 500 companies, not some club scene in the middle of the city.

  But it had been a year since graduation. Hundreds of applications had gone out, and not a single one had come back. It was the catch-22 for all college graduates. She needed experience to get experience. And although employers weren’t knocking at her door, creditors were. She had tens of thousands of dollars in student loans that she needed to pay back, not to mention rent. The bills were piling up fast, and Melinda knew that beggars couldn’t be choosers.

  Hesitating outside her car, she took a moment to smooth down her shirt. She’d chosen a stark white halter to contrast against her creamy chocolate skin, and dark tight pants that accentuated her round hips. Although she was already tall and curvy, she still wore a pair of black high-heeled boots to match her black leather jacket. It wasn’t the interview outfit she’d carefully chosen from the department store a few months ago, but she had to improvise at the last minute. She’d placed a bartending application nearly two months ago, and the restaurant business moved quickly. After two weeks, she assumed she hadn’t gotten the job.

  But surprise, surprise. Someone had called that very afternoon and asked if she could interview for Seven, the hottest club in the city. Being a Thursday, she didn’t expect for the place to be busy, but the line was already wrapped around the building. She clutched her bag tightly to her chest and crossed the street. Her heart was pounding in her chest as she approached the bouncer.

  “Back of the line,” he said roughly. He barely spared her a glance. Melinda frowned and tapped him on the shoulder.

  “I have an interview. My name is Melinda Jones.”

  He shuffled a few papers on his clipboard and stared at her. She shivered under his intense gaze. He may have just been a bouncer, but there was something dark and dangerous lurking just beneath the surface of those eyes. She had no doubt that although he was big, he probably moved quickly and silently.

  A sense of relief swept through her when he nodded his head sharply and unclipped the rope. She heard a few people in the line start to claim that they also had interviews, but Melinda barely heard them as the doors opened. Music blasted her ears, and she immediately winced. The techno beats were god-awful, and the strobe lights weren’t much better. Could she really endure this night after night?

  Bodies writhed on the dance floor, and Melinda found no easy path through the club. Gritting her teeth, she began to push her way through the pit. More than once, she felt the touch of a hand on her ass or her chest, but when she spun around to confront someone, it was clear that no one even realized what they were doing. Just before she reached the bar, something wet and sticky hit her square in the chest and dribbled down her cleavage.

  Melinda looked down in dismay. It was beer. “Fuck,” she cried out. What a way to start the interview.

  She pushed through the patrons at the bar and tried to flag the attention of the staff, but they were too busy pouring drinks and taking money. Melinda was just about to give up and head back home when an arm roughly grabbed her and spun her around.

  “Hey,” she protested, but she knew the words were lost in the loud club. A large man with beefy arms nodded his head to the door behind the bar. His clutch on her didn’t ease up, and she found herself half dragged through the crowd of people. When she was safely in the other room, he released her. “What the hell?” she demanded.

  “Sorry,” he said with a shrug. “Danny will see you now.”

  It was clear that he wasn’t in the customer service business. His apology didn’t quite meet his eyes. She rubbed her wrist, sure that it would bruise, and peered past him. “Where does it go?” she asked as she stared at the staircase behind him.

  “VIP section.”

  “Well, it will be the only time I’ll get to be there,” she muttered. She was here, so she might as well finish the interview. With a sigh, she zipped her jacket to cover the beer stain on her shirt and began to climb the steps two at a time. It opened up into a beautifully lit room that was encased all in glass. Although the beat could still be heard from the club, it was blessedly quiet here. “Thank God,” she breathed.

  “I am so sorry about that.” She turned to see a small man running over to meet her. “The bouncer downstairs was supposed to lead you in the back way. By the time he’d let us know that you were here, you were already halfway into the club.” He wrinkled his nose. “Did you stop to get a drink?”

  She struggled not to roll her eyes and reached up to unzip her jacket. “Unfortunately, none of it got in my mouth. At least I didn’t pay for it.”

  “Oh. We’ll pay to have that dry-cleaned. Again, so sorry.”

  The small man certainly did apologize quite a bit. He was barely five foot five, and with his pasty white skin and dark hair, he could not have stood out more in a club of tanned and tall individuals. “Are you Danny?”

  “I’m so sorry. Where are my manners?” He smiled and held out his hand. “I’m Danny Sylvester. I’m the behind the scenes manager here at Seven.”

  Melinda smiled and stuck out her hand. For some reason, she had taken a liking to the man. “Melinda Jones. Although, I’m sure you already knew that.”

  “I did. I know quite a bit, actually. Melinda Jones, age twenty-three, formally from Boston, graduated at the top of your class at UCLA, never married, no kids, Sagittarius.” He looked up from his paper and smiled. “But none of that tells me about what you’re looking for in a job. Let’s have a seat and chit chat.”

  Melinda frowned. Nowhere on the application did she have to mention marriage or kids. Still, she let it go. It wasn’t like it was a secret or anything. She took a seat in one of the plush chairs along the glass wall and immediately sank into luxury. “Wow, this is nice.” Flushing, she tried to sit up.

  “No, no. Please. We like for our employees to be impressed. So Melinda, the truth is that we filled the bartending position a month ago. But we were looking for a bar manager, and your application was already on file. It’s a salaried position. You’ll share responsibilities with two other people. We’re looking at liquor costs, ordering, scheduling, and the hiring and firing of the bartenders. Does that sound like something you’d be interested in?”

  Pushing her shoulders back, Melinda nodded her head. This was already going better than she had expected. Her fear of turning into her mother was already taunting her as she accepted the interview for a bartending position, but this was much better. Not only was a salaried position good, but a management position was even better. “That sounds like something I would be very inter
ested in.”

  Danny nodded. “What did you have in mind when you chose Business Management?”

  Not turning into my mother, Melinda thought sourly. Her mother had been a waitress at a local club and opened her legs for just about everyone who’d asked. Melinda had plenty of uncles growing up. But that wasn’t anything Danny needed to know. “I like responsibility. To manage something well means executing a plan to do better. And I like to see those results at the end. I like to look at something and realize that I was part of that creation.”

  “Interesting,” Danny murmured. “So you like the idea of being an integral part of a successful business like Seven?”

  Melinda hesitated. The restaurant industry wasn’t exactly what she had in mind, but she wasn’t going to tell Danny that. Although she knew first hand that the turnover rate was high in bars and clubs, managers liked their staff to at least pretend that they would be loyal and long term. “Exactly,” she said with a smile.

  “Great.” Danny stood and held out his hand. “I very much like you, Melinda, but I do have to confer with the owner on this. Vlad Petrovich is a busy man or else he would be here tonight. You’ll be hearing from me shortly though.” He stopped for a moment and put his hand up to his ear.

  Melinda frowned. Was he wearing an earpiece? He nodded at whatever he had heard and smiled. “You are welcome to exit out the back way, but if you’d like to stay and enjoy the music, your drinks will be on us this evening.”

  Drinking and dancing in front of the potential boss did not sound like a great idea, and she politely declined. She saw a flutter of disappointment cross Danny’s face, but he quickly smiled. “In that case, the bouncer downstairs will show you out. Have a wonderful evening.”

  “You as well,” she said before she zipped her jacket back up to hide the beer stain. The bouncer nodded to her and gestured his hand down the hall. She followed him down a series of winding corridors before he opened the door that led back out to the street on the opposite side.

  “Thank you,” she muttered, but he gave no indication that he heard her. With a sigh, she rolled her eyes, shoved her hands in her pockets, and began walking around the block to get to her car. She desperately needed a job, but something about Seven didn’t feel right. For one thing, the bouncers looked like they could double for bodyguards, and what club was that busy on a Thursday night?

  If they offered her the job, she could always say no. But had a feeling that she wouldn’t.

  ***

  Vlad watched the monitor on the screen as the woman left the club. She wasn’t the most beautiful woman to walk through his doors. He’d both seen and enjoyed beautiful women. It wasn’t the confidence when she interviewed with Danny or even the disdain when his bouncer had grabbed her arm. It was, for that split second of honesty, the look of uncertainty in her eyes when she took everything in.

  Everyone around Vlad wore a mask. That’s how he liked it. He loved knowing that the people that surrounded him would always hide their true feelings. He’d rather be around someone who kissed his ass than be around someone who made their true disgust for him known.

  But it did make a man lonely.

  The woman, Melinda, wasn’t well practiced at wearing masks. Everything she felt and wanted was achingly visible on her face. She needed a job, but she didn’t want to work for Seven. That much was obvious.

  The door behind opened as Danny quietly slipped through. “Mr. Petrovich?”

  Vlad raised his eyebrows. He and Danny had been friends for nearly five years now, and yet Danny still insisted on formally addressing him in public. “We’re alone, Danny,” he said sourly. His English was perfect, but he still carried a hint of his Russian accent. After being away from his mother country for over a decade, it was surprising that he had any accent at all.

  Danny shrugged. “Sorry. Anyways, the girl didn’t take you up on your offer. She’s already gone.”

  Vlad leaned over and flipped the monitor so he could access the bar. “Yes, I noticed. That was certainly the more professional move.”

  “I think she’s a good fit for the job. Having said that, I don’t think you should hire her.” “Excuse me? And why is that?”

  “Because you extended the invitation for her to stay and have a drink, which you’ve never done with any potential employees, I can only assume that you’re personally interested in her. And it would not be a great idea for you to develop an intimate relationship with anyone on your staff.”

  Danny was the only person who got to speak to him like that, and while it was refreshing to hear such open honesty, it was annoying to hear him constantly spout his opinions. “I extended the invitation to test her. If she had stayed, I would have assumed that she’d take advantage of my hospitality. After what happened with Lisa, I didn’t want to take any chances.”

  Lisa was their previous bar manager, and it turned out that she was drinking more alcohol than she was selling. Danny nodded his head slowly. “It’s an interesting technique,” he muttered, and Vlad could tell that Danny didn’t quite believe him. And that was fine. Vlad wasn’t quite telling the truth.

  “Is there any other reason you don’t think I should hire her?” Vlad said as he turned his attention to the monitor. His heartbeat sped up when he recognized the young man on the screen. What was he doing here?

  “I suppose not,” Danny said.

  “Excellent. Present her with an offer tomorrow.” He reached over to the switchboard and pressed the button labeled with the number six. “Alex. There is a young gentleman at your three o’clock wearing a blue button-up shirt. He’s enjoying a glass of dark beer and chatting up a lovely woman wearing a red dress. Offer them the VIP room, please. And if he refuses, have the bartender explain that his card is declined.”

  Danny cocked his head up to the monitor and stared at it. “Who is he?”

  “Trouble,” Vlad said grimly. “Have Damien man the boards for the rest of the night. I’m going to speak to this young man and then make an appearance in the club.”

  “Did you want to do breakfast in the morning?”

  “If you show up at my house before noon, I’ll have you arrested and jailed for trespassing,” Vlad said automatically.

  “Lunch it is,” Danny said, unfazed by Vlad’s threats. Vlad smiled at the small man before moving purposefully to the VIP area. There, he found the young man slinging his arm around the young woman while he bragged about knowing the owner.

  “Yes,” Vlad said, purposely startling them. “He does know me. Which begs the question, what is he doing here?”

  “Vlad!” Stephen crowed with a big smile. It was clear the other man was drunk, but when he slid an uneasy look at the woman, Vlad knew he was still sober enough to understand that he was in trouble. “What are you doing here?”

  “I own the club.” He watched the woman sway unsteadily on her feet. “Stephen, does the young lady need some medical attention?”

  “No!” Stephen possessively put an arm around her to hold her up. “She’s just had too much to drink. I’ll take her home now.”

  Vlad rolled his eyes and gestured to the bouncer standing at the door. “Please see that the young woman gets home safely,” he muttered. The woman’s eyes grew round as she stared at the bouncer, but Vlad smiled calmly at her. “Do not be afraid. This is Ed, and although Ed looks large and intimidating, he’s actually quite a little kitten. He’s simply going to drive you home and make sure that no one…else…tries to take advantage of you.” His eyes cut accusingly towards Stephen, and the man’s face contorted in anger.

  “What the hell are you implying?” he snarled.

  The girl backed away from him and let Ed escort her out. “Stephen. The only reason I haven’t formally banned you from this club is because you are my friend’s son. I owe Gregory my life, and I banning his son is not how I wanted to repay him. But if you come into my club one more time and try to drug another young lady here, I will do more than kick you. I will turn you over to the polic
e,” he said in a calm voice. This was not the first time the young man had tried to pull this trick.

  A slow and evil smile spread across Stephen’s face. “Haven’t you heard? Dad’s dead. He passed away yesterday from a heart attack.”

  Vlad felt a mask immediately slip over his face. Gregory had been his friend for years, and inside, he was grieving. But Gregory was also the epitome of health. There was no way he simply keeled over from a heart attack. Stephen had been bugging him to let him take the reigns of The Bone Order for years now. Across town, The Bone Order was the only club that actually gave Vlad a run for its money, and Gregory and Vlad had found friendship among the competition.

  “And you’re celebrating so soon?” Vlad asked calmly.

  “Grieving,” Stephen said easily. “Booze and women take the edge off the pain.” But there wasn’t a single hint of pain in his voice.

  The man knew that Vlad wouldn’t let him take that woman home. He also knew that Vlad would no doubt be watching for him, which means that he had a reason for wanting to be alone with him. And it wasn’t simply just to drop the bomb of his father’s death. “What are you doing here?” he snapped. He was too old for games.

  “You and dad may have happily split distributors in this city, but it’s not going to be that way with me. By the time I’m done with the changes to The Bone Order, Seven will be yesterday’s news. I just thought I’d give you a friendly warning. You’re always welcome to sell to me and retire early.”

  Vlad threw back his head and laughed. The fact that this little child could come in a threaten him was absurd. “I needed a laugh tonight, thank you,” he said as he wiped his tears away. “When is your father’s funeral?”

  “It doesn’t matter. You won’t be welcome.” Stephen tipped his glass back and drained it before sitting it on the glass table next to him. “I wouldn’t want the Russian mob to sully my father’s good name,”

  “Russian mob? Because I am Russian and own a club, you immediately assume that I’m a front for a mob organization?”