“Alexa?” I hear Jasmine call my name, but I jump onto the elevator. Before the door can close, she jumps in. “Hey, what happened?”
I spin around on her. “Luca runs the Mafia?”
She sighs, her shoulders sagging.
“Derek was right, and you …”
“It’s none of Derek’s business what others choose to do with their life,” she snaps. “Sometimes it’s either you do what you’re told, or you die.” She turns away from me, all of a sudden regretting getting in the elevator with me. “I don’t expect someone like you or Derek to understand that.”
The elevator dings, and the door opens. She steps out, and I go to reach out for her, but she pulls her arm away just in time to avoid it. “Jasmine?” Now I’m the one hollering at her, but she’s gone.
I run my hands through my hair, aggravated. What in the fuck just happened?
“Problem?”
I jump when I hear the man behind me. Spinning around, I come face-to-face with another King—Titan. All the Kings have one thing about them that’s the same—intimidation. They are all covered in ink, have muscles, and a pretty face. It’s truly unfair. Like they were all made in a lab. Titan is by far the largest of them. He has tattoos like Bones that run up and around his neck.
“Something like that,” I mumble.
He looks over at their private entrance where Jasmine ran out of the double doors. “She’ll come back.”
She can’t run too far. We’re partners now. “Yeah,” I agree.
“There you are, babe.” I hear a woman say and then see Emilee step up next to him. “Thought you were meeting me outside.” She looks at me, smiling. “Hey, Alexa. How are you doing?”
“Good,” I lie. I’m confused as fuck, and I hate that my best friend is away. But even if April was here, I still wouldn’t be able to talk to her about what’s going on. Not with what she’s going through right now. It sucks feeling alone.
Emilee frowns. “Titan, I’ll meet you up in your office,” she says, dismissing him.
“Okay.” He leans down and gives her a quick kiss on the lips, and then he turns, getting back on the elevator.
“Come on. Let’s take a drive.” She links her arm in mine and escorts me out the glass double doors and down the steps to a white Rolls-Royce Phantom coupe parked at the curb. I fall into the passenger seat, and she starts it up. “Talk to me.”
I glance out the blacked-out window, not really looking at anything as she pulls away from the Kings’ private entrance. “About?”
“Whatever it is that’s bothering you,” she says simply.
“It doesn’t matter.” Everything I’ve known is a lie. Or maybe I was just stupid and naïve. Bottom line—I only have myself to blame.
“Of course, it does. Tell me. Maybe I can help you out with it.”
She did grow up with them. She’s married to a King. Why not? I’ll give it a try. “I just found out that Bones is in with the Mafia.”
“Ahh.” She nods, pulling onto the Strip. “I see.”
“And I guess Haven is married to it.”
“Yep. Poor girl never stood a chance.” She chuckles. “She dated Luca while we were in school. She fell for him before she even knew what the Mafia was.”
Not surprised about that part. “Jasmine is mad at me,” I add, seeing where it gets me.
She sighs heavily. “Jasmine is going through something right now.”
“Like what?” I ask, worried for her.
“Her dad.”
I frown. “What about him?” I don’t know much about Jasmine’s family. She never talks about them.
“Well, he found out about Kink, and he is pissed. Told her to back out. She refused, of course. Jasmine isn’t one of those women who can be told what to do, ya know? Even by her father.”
That’s why she was snappy with me. I’ve never seen her that way before. She’s always smiling. Even when I know it’s fake. She’s good at that—making things look okay. “So, what happened?”
“Last she said to me was that she told him to fuck off and to stay out of her business.” Emilee shrugs.
“Why would he care that she opens up a Kink?” I wonder.
“Jasmine’s dad is a big deal … or so he thinks. And he takes his reputation very seriously.” She rolls her eyes so hard her head moves. “He’s a piece of shit. Always has been. Always will be.”
“So, what’s going to happen when she chooses to go against his demands?”
“I’m guessing he’ll cut her off. Who the hell knows? Jasmine has always been very independent. Well, I don’t have to tell you that. You’re her friend. She’ll figure it out.”
I sit back and let out a sigh. I never stopped to think about what others would think once they see we are opening up Kink. The members that will come in and out. I’m guessing most, if not all, will be high profile. I mean, some average Joe Smith won’t be able to afford fifty grand to join.
_______________
I DIDN’T HAVE much to say to Emilee. We drove around in silence after she informed me of Jasmine’s situation. So, when she took me back to Kingdom, I jumped in my own car and headed to her house. I wasn’t ready to speak to Cross just yet. Not sure what to really say to him anyway. I was afraid I’d just make myself look stupid again.
I stand on the front porch of her mansion and ring the bell. Seconds later, the door opens to Jasmine standing before me. Her eyes drop to the bottle of Fireball in my right hand before they return back to me. “Figured we’d have a drink.”
I half expect her to slam the door in my face, but I’m hopeful when she takes a step back, holding it open for me instead. I notice the boxes sitting in the foyer immediately. Not hard to miss. “Are you moving?” I joke.
“Yes,” she deadpans.
The smile drops off my face, and I go to ask why she hasn’t already told me this but her doorbell rings.
Jasmine yanks it open. “Lauren,” She sighs. “What can I do for you today?”
“Your dog is in your backyard.” The older woman places her hands on her hips.
“Yes. I know this may come as a shock, but dogs have to piss and shit like humans do.”
She pulls her lips back at Jasmine’s choice of words. “She’s barking at me through your fence.”
“Dogs bark. Just like Karen’s bitch,” she states dryly.
The woman gasps.
“Have a nice day, Karen.” Then she slams the door in her face.
“You got a dog?” I ask confused.
“Yeah,” she answers, walking from the foyer.
I quicken my pace behind her as she heads to her kitchen. “Wait. What?” Let’s go back to her moving. “Are you serious about moving?” How did I not know this?
“As a heart attack.”
We enter the kitchen, and I place the Fireball bottle on the counter and turn around to face her as she gets two shot glasses out of the cabinet. “Since when?”
Grabbing the glasses, she turns back around and places them on the white marble counter and unscrews the lid before pouring us both a shot. She stays silent, fills her glass, and then throws it back, not even bothering to wait for me. Once done, she refills it.