Truth: A Sinful Series, Book One

by Trilina Pucci

  Now that isn’t something I was expecting at all! I feel like a jerk; it’s her bachelorette party, and I’m being a baby!

  “No, Tina, I’m super happy to be a part of your celebration. I mean, yeah, this isn’t really my scene, but I’m sorry I gave the impression I was a big ol’ baby and didn’t know how to have fun. Let’s just have a great weekend, and maybe we will find out we have more in common than we think we do.” I totally believe it when I say it.

  “Oh, okay, but seriously you can totally stay in. I mean, we are going hard this weekend, and I know that really isn’t your thang. The hotel has a really awesome spa too! Maybe we can just all get together for like lunches or dinners? You should definitely come to the crazy sex club place; I think we could use a grown-up for that one.”

  Looking toward the front, I see the others whispering and looking back. I’m in middle school again—god, I really dislike these girls. I thought she was trying to be nice, but she may as well be paying me because I’m clearly the babysitter. I change my mind. I don’t want to jump off the bus—I’d like to toss her!

  “Sounds great, Tina. I could use a spa weekend. Since we’re on the same page, just make sure to say lots of nice things about me and Nick.” I nod before I reach into my bag to retrieve my phone, hoping that my hint is big enough for her.

  “Got it.” She gives me a conspiratorial wink before her eyes dart down, acknowledging my phone and my dismissal before walking back to her seat. I open my messages and quickly type out:

  Me: Best trip ever

  Gretchen: Do I need to mount up?

  Me: Are you a regulator?

  I can’t help but giggle at my response.

  Gretchen: Obviously! I’m sorry they’re assholes but why the hell did you agree to go, Drew?

  Me: Honestly?

  Gretchen: Duh

  Me: I’m feeling guilty. I’m ending things with Nick and I figured this would be my farewell gift. I think he is having problems at work.

  Gretchen: That’s not your problem. He deserves whatever is coming his way.

  Me: I just wanted to do this because I loved him once and we started from a good place, closure ya know? Plus, I can get away and clear my head too. It’s a free trip and I’m cheap.

  When Nick and I had our fight about the party, Gretchen was the first person I called. We left work and spent three hours at a downtown restaurant tucked in the back corner. I cried, drank and ate, reliving all the moments that got away. All the things I should have screamed and all the indiscretions I’ve ignored. It was cathartic, but then again, she’s my real soul mate.

  Gretchen: I get it…you’re still dumb tho but I love you

  Me: Ha! Love you back

  Gretchen: Hey! Don’t be scared to tell them who they are. They could use some truth.

  Me: Actually, these girls are pretty savvy…I’m surprised.

  Gretchen: Terrifying.

  Me: Wanna meet for dinner while I’m in the city?

  Gretchen: Can’t…plans. But you should go out, shake off the rust

  Me: That’s what got me in trouble the first time…

  Gretchen: Fine but I’m outta town for the weekend or I’d meet up. Catch up soon?

  Me: What’s his name?

  Gretchen: Daddy…

  Me: Ooooo kinky Gretch

  Gretchen: No, it’s my dad.

  Me: Oh Jesus! I need to stop trying out trends

  Gretchen: Yes. Just let it go before I heave more in my mouth.

  Me: Tell your Dad I say hi. I’ll call when I’m back

  Closing my phone, I put my head back on the seat and close my eyes, letting out a sigh. With each mile I put between us, I’m that much closer to getting myself back.

  CRACKING MY NECK, I RELIEVE the tension I’m feeling from this week. I’d be hard-pressed to find a different description other than “fucking disaster.” I acquired a new venture for King Enterprises, and the deal was almost blown by some fucking idiot lawyer in contracts, who pointed out that we lowballed the price. I would’ve fired him if it wasn’t for the fact the deal went through, so he covered his ass. My brother, the voice of reason and my COO, asked me to go easy on the firing, something about me being a tyrant. He’s always the more level-headed of the two of us.

  I would do anything for my brother, Luca. Younger by three minutes, our bond is unbreakable. It’s been me and him against the world for most of our lives since our parents were killed by a drunk driver when we were in our teens, forcing us to move from relative to relative. Inevitably, we overstayed our welcome. Nobody wanted to deal with two teenage boys with anger issues, especially considering our backgrounds. Our father and his brother grew up and were groomed to join the “family business,” but my father left, asking for his freedom. The consequence was his excommunication; he didn’t exist anymore. No contact meant that we grew up devoid of paternal family, but we understood the sacrifices he made for us to live normally, so we never pushed.

  If my father were alive, he would have died all over again at the criminality of our behavior, after the accident. We got involved with bad people, at the wrong time. I turned to our Uncle Giovanni and made the sacrifice to get my hands dirty to keep us afloat, so that the future my father hoped for would at least be met by one of us.

  When we turned eighteen respectively, our inheritance was released, and we invested to start King Enterprises. Starting with small nightclubs and bars, since that’s where I spent most my time, I already understood the business. The more success came our way, the more upstanding we became, or Luca became (I’m still a bit more unpredictable). There isn’t so much a need for the street smarts and cruelty I acquired during our youth, but every so often, if need be, I play dirty—but only me. I make sure Luca stays on the straight and narrow, and what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him. We’ve branched out to restaurants and larger real estate ventures, currently owning a large portfolio of commercial properties worldwide with three private clubs and more than a dozen hotels. The growth in our company exceeds even our own expectations. I just wish our parents could’ve lived to see us. Then again it took their death to make this possible.

  That one sobering fact makes me hate my success all over again. I’d give it all up to have them back.

  I take a swig of my drink. The burn helps to quiet the thoughts, and that’s what I need tonight, help from my demons. I keep myself removed and focused on most days. Never shit where you eat…so they say. What a wonderful little colloquialism. I don’t though; it’s only on rare occasions that I find myself willing to enjoy something I own, but after my week I needed to blow off steam in my one of our exclusive clubs, Church.

  It’s an unassuming club built inside an elegant, three-story townhome. It’s not just a club, but a sanctuary for those with deviant proclivities. Only members with a key may enter, and that key costs more than most people make in a year.

  I fucking love it. The multileveled Gomorrah begins with the main room at the entrance, banked in deep cushioned red velvet walls, with dark leather furniture and the most elaborate chandeliers that hang from the ceiling that captures pictures of debauchery in their crystal beads. It’s decorated as if someone pulled a room right from the 1940s and plopped it into current time. I love the feel, the swankiness, but mostly I love the smell of sex. It’s everywhere; people are desperate for it, and it feeds the beast that is lust.

  Leading up and down the stairs are elaborately iron-railed staircases. Wider than normal, they keep the flow of traffic between rooms and add to the elegance of this den of iniquity. Downstairs leads to private rooms, each themed and some custom-made for specific sexual preferences. That’s also where I keep a room for myself. The top floor is a communal room, with public viewing and nudity allowed. There’s a stage in the center for public-viewed spankings and floggings, but the main attraction is the baptismal, the oversized egg-shaped tub that allows for members to watch as women bathe under wanton eyes, with warm jets designed for public masturbation. The room
is very low lit and bordered in bed-like benches, encouraging an audience.

  I aimed for the main floor to be the tamest of all, a neutral ground of sorts. It’s the foreplay for everywhere else. After entering past the foyer, the room presents as a great room with small conversational seating areas adorned in red velvet club chairs, leather ottomans, and side tables. It’s meant to invite conversations and slightly heavy petting. The mahogany bar runs along the mirrored back wall. It looks like something out of one those old black-and-white movies, elegant and classic.

  Each time I find myself here, I’m comforted knowing that whomever I meet is just for tonight. I’m not looking for anything other than someone to help me work out my kinks…so to speak. I’ve never desired any other type of relationship. That’s for my brother; he’s the marrying and kids type. I don’t have anything against it—I love seeing him in that life; he reminds me of our father. Luca got all the good parts, while I inherited all the other parts. I know that I’m too rough around the edges, and frankly, I’ve never met a woman that keeps my attention for longer than one night.

  I lean back against the bar and continue to survey the room when I feel a hand trace up my suited arm. “Well, hello again.” I swirl the ice cubes around my tumbler.

  “Hello, yourself. Were you going to ignore me all night?” Sarah pretend pouts.

  “No need to pout. I hadn’t seen you, but I’m certainly available to you now,” I assure her, turning my body in her direction.

  “Good because I need a nice stiff one.” She smiles, batting her lashes at me as I put my drink on the bar.

  “Ah, well then I think I can provide just that… Bourbon?” I grin, motioning to the bartender, with one finger.

  “Yes, please.” Laughing at our joke, she pushes up to the barstool. “I haven’t seen you around too much lately. Running the world getting busy, huh?”

  “Yes. This week, however, has been a nightmare, but the club seems to be running quite well, and I know I have you to thank for that.” I hand her the drink and pick mine back up.

  “Just doing my job.” Tipping her drink my way, she gives me a nod.

  Sarah took over management of Church after I acquired it three years ago. She has always been my eyes and ears. She started as a shift manager before I saw that she was one of the only people who understood how this club should run. She’s open-minded and driven. I trust her beyond measure, and for a guy like me, loyalty and trust are sacred. She’s also one of the only women I haven’t slept with. She’s here on merit, and I respect her for that.

  “Let’s go to the office and run over some notes I have.”

  Sarah nods in agreement, and I knock the wooden bar top as a goodbye to the bartender. Making our way to the back offices becomes tricky. We must get stopped five or six times to answer questions before we get back to the office.

  “Wow, I didn’t think we would get a minute,” she huffs as she sinks into the leather club chair opposite my desk.

  “I like that the club is busy. Works to my benefit.” I give a sly grin.

  “True, but I do think we need more security upstairs. Lately there have been a few situations that left me shortchanged and nervous.”

  “I’m good with that. Hire what you need—but why wasn’t I emailed about any incidents?” Furrowing my brow, I lean back, waiting for my answer. It better be good because stupidity is not something I will easily forgive.

  “Well, because we handled the issue before it even became a solid situation. If I were to email you every petty argument some chick has with her boyfriend over bringing her here, you would never get any of your other work done.”

  I can’t help but smile because I know she’s right, but it doesn’t matter my emotional default is control and dominance. “Do us both a favor and just send me a rundown at the end of the week of anything or anyone you believe is becoming problematic. That way I’m off your back, but I stay in the know.” I’m nicer than I would normally be, but I like Sarah, and I believe in her capabilities. She’s like the sister I never wanted. Outside of Luca, she’s the only other person I see on a regular basis.

  “Great, consider it done, but can I ask you a question?” I nod my approval. “Are you as involved with all your businesses? Granted you haven’t been around the last few weeks, but I just assumed a guy at the top would have a hundred people I would report to.”

  Leaning back into my chair, I cross my arms. “Am I wearing out my welcome already?”

  “I apologize, King—no, that’s not what I…”

  Cutting her off simply to de-escalate her nerves, my response is sharp. “No, I am not this hands on with other ventures. My company houses a lot of subsidiaries, but I have a personal interest as well as financial in this particular business.”

  “Gotcha, I just wondered because…”

  Sarah is cut off by a knock on the door, drawing my attention and my annoyance. Without looking up I bark, “Come in.” One of the bar backs opens the door, leaning in halfway. “Oh hey, sorry. I don’t mean to interrupt a meeting, but we have an issue.”

  I’ve been here all of an hour, and instead of being buried inside a blonde, I’m hearing all about “issues.” This place is beginning to feel like less of a sanctuary and more like a pain in the ass.

  “What’s the problem?” My tone is direct and clear.

  Looking a little unsure, he replies, “Well, it looks like someone let in a bachelorette party, and now they are in the main room acting like newbies and we’re getting complaints.”

  “Son of a bitch,” Sarah curses under her breath. “I’ll take care of it, King.” She stands, looking aptly apologetic.

  “Good. Find out who let them in and fire them. This club’s reputation is built on privacy—I don’t have to remind you what we charge for membership. I won’t have some curious girls in here looking to have a story to tell.” My voice must punctuate the irritation I’m feeling because they jump into action, most likely for fear they will be next on the chopping block.

  I turn around to the monitors and pull up the main room. Six girls in total. They stand out like sore thumbs. Fuck me, one of them has on a damn tiara and sash. Shaking my head and raking my hands through my hair, I stand up, button my tailored black suit jacket, and adjust my cuffs before I head out to see how this situation is going to shake down. Heads will roll for this. That’s the one decision I’m sure of. Walking around the corner into the main room I spot the ridiculous group standing and giggling. They couldn’t look more out of place if they tried. I watch security discreetly approach and begin talking to a girl wearing dicks around her neck. Rubber dicks. Shaking my head, I can’t believe these girls made it through the door. Don’t get me wrong, I’m all for fun, but these walls are for a different kind of fun, and these girls seem unschooled.

  I survey the room, happy to see that although the bar back said complaints were lobbied, I don’t see anyone raising a concerned brow. Scanning the room, I spot Sarah having the front door guard removed, his head cast downward, a sign of his fucking guilt. He knows better—people need a key to get in; he couldn’t have actually thought this would go unnoticed.

  My eyes are drawn back to the rubber dick girl. She seems to be pushing the idea of being allowed to stay and holds up a key as proof of her eligibility. Son of a bitch. Whoever gave that to her will never step another foot in here. I eye Sarah approach and begin the “thank you but get the fuck out” speech. As she takes the key from the girl’s manicured hand and passes it to security, I laugh to myself, leaning against the bar at how ridiculous this situation is. I’ll make sure to find out whose key that is so that I can blacklist them.

  My gaze wander over the group of women, taking in the heavily made-up faces and spray tans, when I land on her. It’s as if everything comes into focus. All the air leaves my lungs as I am filled with her essence. My body starts to react before I can process. I stand straight, eyes focused. Every receptor in my body is on high alert over this brown-haired beauty. She’s
tall, lean, maybe five foot nine or so with long, rich brown wavy locks running down her back, leading my eyes down to her perfect ass and legs for days, accentuated by the hem of her dress. She wears that dress like a threat, intimidating and powerful, and she has the most perfect red lips. But it’s her eyes—her eyes hit my soul. They’re ice blue and deadly because each time she looks around the room, it’s as if she sees the truth behind the presentation. The thought shakes me to my core, but it’s the singular reason I can’t stop staring.

  She’s fucking stunning. It’s as if just the sight of her woke me up from my sleep. I feel hungry, and I’m fucking mesmerized. She isn’t giggling and looking embarrassed; she looks quietly intrigued. Jesus, I can see how she tilts her head, looking around, taking in the overt sexualization that hangs like fog in the air. I’m captivated watching her roll her shoulders back, causing her breasts to jut out ever so slightly, while she rubs the fabric of her dress along her hips. She’s on fire. What the fuck am I feeling? I don’t believe in love at first sight, but I definitely believe in lust at first sight.

  And I fucking want her.

  I can’t help myself. I make my way closer, maneuvering between security to standing a few feet behind Sarah to watch this beautiful creature. She looks alive, her eyes dilated and (fuck me) licking her lips. That mouth is something created from my dreams. She is a goddess, cast down from the heavens and into this hellish paradise. My eyes linger over her body, taking in all my favorite parts. I watch her shiver when her eyes land on two people feeling up their partner. She likes to watch. Her body is her tell; those nipples pushing through the fabric scream to me everything I want to know. I want to put my mouth around the hard, little peaks. God, she’s gorgeous, and as she turns her back, my eyes drift down those locks that hit almost to the spot where a woman’s back curves to accentuate the swell of their ass—and damn does she have an ass. I wanna bite it.

  This woman is a knockout, and she exudes the confidence of a woman who knows she’s attractive. Although her gorgeous face isn’t what’s grabbing my attention; it’s her interest. Not only does she want to be here, she wants what’s being offered, and I have so much I want to offer her. I watch her like a panther watches his prey, taking in when she bites her bottom lip or how often her eyes linger on the PDA being presented. I want to know everything I can before I pounce. She walks away from the group deeper into the room, and I know I only have one devious option.