"I already know where I'm going," she said with a giddy smile. "Anthony should be performing tonight." She flipped her hair back and waggled her eyebrows.
"Actually, Anthony canceled his show for tonight. I think another performer should be filling his spot though?" I shouldn’t have been excited to correct her, but I was. I wasn’t exactly jealous about Anthony being on stage. It just hurt me to think that people got off to his coping mechanisms. It’s like he was slicing off a piece of his trauma and giving it to others to feast on. If he was empowered by it, then I supported him, but in my short time here, I’d gotten to know and care about him.
"Oh." The woman scowled. "I suppose I’ll go to my usual then." I smiled as she marched off, and rolled my eyes when she was out of sight.
"She’s so annoying. At least she didn’t comment on your flats this time," Kelsey said. She was updating the database beside me, adding new members, editing the profiles of existing ones. One of the cool things about Eden's Place was that people were constantly given the opportunity to discover new aspects of their sexuality. It was our job to keep their profiles updated so that we could offer them every chance to explore. "Speaking of, you’re not exactly in uniform today."
I gave her an apologetic look. "It’s just so cold up here. They have that vent turned on full blast. I need a jacket and heated blanket. Why do you keep it so cold? I’m glad William gave me this jacket to keep warm." I shivered to emphasize my point.
"It actually wasn’t always like this. Someone started messing with the thermostat around the same time you started working. Maybe someone of authority wants you to cover up some," she teased.
"Maybe," I mused.
"Hey, I’ve got to go talk to William. You good?"
"I’m good! Go."
I rubbed my arms, and another client walked up. He was short and muscular. His bald head shone under the soft light, and his wrinkled suit barely met the dress code for here. "Welcome," I said politely before swiping his card. An alert popped up the moment I did. "Mr. Graves? It says here that you’re two months behind on your membership dues. I apologize, but we cannot let you in until you settle your account."
I was advised how to handle a situation like this on my first day, but it was the first time I actually had encountered the problem. Of course, Hale, my appointed bodyguard, was nowhere to be found. He usually showed up with me but disappeared once I got to work. I wasn’t complaining, because I wanted to be as far away from him as possible, but now that I was alone with a member of the club who I would have to turn away, I felt nervous.
"That’s bullshit. I told Nicholas I would pay it next month," he growled.
I continued to search his profile. There was a note attached to his account. "It says here that you’re not allowed in under any circumstances. I’m going to have to ask you to leave."
My voice wavered as I spoke. His face turned an angry shade of red, and I quickly looked around to see if there was anyone nearby who could help me. "Fuck you. I want to speak to a fucking manager!" he yelled. "I don’t owe the Civella family shit, they owe me!"
I straightened my spine. "Sir, I’m going to have to ask you to calm down and leave. If you have any questions about our decision, you can schedule an appointment with William."
"I want to talk to the fucking boss now," he argued before circling the desk and walking up to me. My breath caught in my throat.
"Sir, you need to back away—"
"You need to shut the fuck up, whore!" he yelled. I saw a few people scurrying in the distance. I couldn’t believe it, but I was actually hoping Hale would show up.
The man reached out and shoved my chest. "Little cock tease. You get off kicking me out?" he sneered. "Maybe I don’t need a show. Maybe I just need to fucking show you who is boss."
He licked his lips menacingly, and I was about to make a run for it when two bulky men grabbed him by the arms and dragged him away from me.
Malice stood stoically on the other side of the desk, his muscular arms at his side and his expression flat.
"I was just fucking around, Nick. Get these guys off of me," Mr. Graves said.
Malice popped his knuckles one by one. No one spoke, and I felt like he was the performer now. All eyes were on us, and they got off watching their fearless leader basking in his brutality. "You don’t get to call me Nick anymore, Graves. My enemies call me Malice, or have you forgotten?"
I’d become so accustomed to calling Nicholas Civella by his menacing nickname that I didn’t ever analyze what that meant. Apparently, this was a huge deal, because Mr. Graves paled immediately. "We’ve been partners for ages," he stuttered.
"You stopped paying your dues. You hassled my employee. You got cocky, Graves," Malice replied. His lip curled on the word employee.
"I’ll pay. I promise!"
"You keep saying that. I’ve heard that you like to brag about your membership here, Graves. You’ve been chatty. You know what happens to people who can’t keep their fucking mouth shut." Malice pulled out a gun, and as if on cue, everyone who was watching disappeared. It was like they knew exactly what was coming and what they were expected to do. Even the bartender in the lobby disappeared.
"Close your eyes, Juliet. I have a well-known rule at my establishment," Malice said. I didn’t blink. I was frozen with fear and...curiosity.
Mr. Graves started sobbing uncontrollably, and he shook in the guard’s grip.
Malice aimed his gun at Graves but kept his eyes locked on me. "You’re only as safe as what you can testify in court, Juliet. If you see nothing, you risk nothing." We stared at one another for a few more frantic beats of my heart. Inhale. Exhale. I felt like every second was an act of defiance.
Malice pulled the trigger. I flinched. Blood splattered on the marble floors. Graves wheezed and gasped before falling in a heap on the floor. I watched it all. I took it in.
"You should have closed your eyes, Juliet," Malice said before grabbing a handkerchief from his pocket and wrapping his weapon in it.
I cleared my throat and stared at the man who was threatening me just minutes ago. "I guess you’re going to have to learn to trust me, Malice," I whispered, making sure to emphasize the name I now knew had so much more weight than just a game between us. It was a play on words, a label for his enemies. His family and close friends knew him as Nick. I knew him as Malice because I was the enemy.
Malice inhaled and stepped over Graves’s body to get to me. His eyes slithered up and down my body. There was something about his perusal that made me want to look and be strong. "Get back to work," he growled in a low voice before eyeing my upper thigh. I didn’t dare follow his gaze.
Malice then crouched low, making him eye level with my center. Heat flooded my body as I looked down at him. There was so much power beneath me. I liked how he looked there, his lips level with my pussy.
He reached out with his thumb and wiped at a bead of blood that had splattered on my thigh. The crimson stain smeared against my creamy skin, and his fingerprint was stamped on my body with the bloody ink. "Trust is earned," he said while standing up.