I fucking hated Doll.
5.
Vixen…
There was a conference room on the ground floor of the hotel. It was a huge, opulent room with a long cedar table and twelve chairs. The walls were sandy beige with a few overpriced artisan paintings hanging and a sparkling chandelier dangling over the table that looked ridiculously over the top.
The floor to ceiling window boasted an incredible view of the island coast. No boats anchored on this side of the island. Nixon had once said there was not enough shelter for them, and thus, the ocean looked infinite, with the mountains in the distance adding that extra breathless element to an otherwise spectacular view.
Upon entering, I gravitated to the window first thing. I ignored the faces in the room. Along the way, I scooped up a full glass of champagne on a diamond encrusted tray and took a small sip.
I was very aware I passed Doll. She was sitting in a chair, her eyes already on me as I went. She was wearing some trashy looking red dress, and her legs were on top of the table, completely uncaring of the view she was letting everyone in on.
“I see you haven’t gotten tired of your pet, Nixon,” she commented, snickering.
I threw a bored look her way. Despite wearing that trashy ass dress, despite choosing the most butch position that left little to the imagination, Doll looked like a bronze goddess. She was a Puerta Rican beauty with a dimpled smile and tits to die for.
Shame she was such a fucking bitch.
“Watch your fucking tongue, Doll,” Nixon retorted.
I stopped at the window and hid my smile. Nixon didn’t accept anyone talking any kind of shit about me.
“I meant no offense,” she replied, delicately. “Actually, I’m thinking of having my own pet too, but I hear they bite, and I wouldn’t be keen on putting one down. Has that ever crossed your mind, Nixon? Having to put your pet down if it bites?”
“Doll,” a voice said in warning.
I recognized the voice.
Rowan.
He spoke in a business-y tone. I’d heard a lot of their conversations and knew a bit about him. He was a real estate mogul with a lot of enemies. Apparently getting to the top meant getting his hands dirty. You wouldn’t think it by looking at him. He was a tall, solid dude in a suit.
“Doll, I will put you down if you don’t shut the fuck up in the next ten seconds,” Nixon told her. “Killing you would be so easy, I think it would be fun, and nobody would miss the ice princess.”
“Calm it down, guys,” Tiger intervened, sitting across from her. He was another dude I’d run into multiple times in the meeting rooms. He was stocky, short and bald. I knew nothing else about him. He kept to himself, his identity completely shrouded in secrecy. “We need to work with each other, so let’s tone it down.”
“I’m just making conversation,” Doll retorted, defensively. “Asking what to do if a pet bites isn’t wrong, and I shouldn’t be threatened death for it. I’m going to tell Hobbs about this.”
Oh, my God. She was such a child.
“Doll, you instigated this,” Rowan said.
“No, that’s alright,” Nixon replied. “Run to daddy if it makes you feel better, princess.”
“He isn’t my daddy, asshole,” Doll growled.
“You sure about that?”
“Fuck you, Nixon, and fuck your little chihuahua in the corner. You should put it down before she claws your fucking face next.”
Was she referring to the claw marks on Nixon’s neck? I shut my eyes tightly, cringing. He should have changed into something less obvious, not show them off like little trophies.
“Baby gave these to me in a different sort of fit, Doll,” Nixon returned cockily.
My cheeks warmed. Thank God they couldn’t see my face.
That seemed to be the ice breaker. Chuckles filled the room. Doll let out a hard laugh, her dark mood diffused. “Touché, Nixon, you sexy bastard.”
I took a bigger sip, waiting for my head to swim.
These people were so fucking dysfunctional.
This was my life. Being around people with names like Doll and Tiger.
Jesus.
I was sure there would be another dozen more spats before the meeting was over, but they never took it too seriously. They didn’t need to when they had one purpose in mind: to get the job done, get paid and get out.
And they all had their own purpose for being here.
People like Nixon and Rowan weren’t driven to get paid – they had more money than they knew what to do with. And Tyrone, who was born in a privileged household and sent off to boarding school while his father immersed himself in his career in politics, didn’t have to be here, either. No, Tyrone was driven purely from a place of rebellion – one taste of the fast life and he was hooked, and he probably got a kick out of living a double life.
Others like Doll, on the other hand, took these jobs for an entirely different reason. They couldn’t look after their money. I had a feeling all her money went up her nose or in a game of Vegas poker, and when the life of gambling and drugs emptied her pockets, she got hit up with another job.
Glancing swiftly around the room once again, I caught Nixon’s cocky grin, Doll’s cheeky smile, the humour in Tyrone and Rowan’s face and…
My gaze halted for a blink of a moment at a figure I didn’t recognize in the corner.
I didn’t look at him too long, though I felt his eyes on me when I turned back to the window.
6.
Nixon…
Nixon saw him before Vix, standing at the back of the room instead of sitting at the table. His arms were crossed, his expression clear. He was trying to be a mysterious fuck. Maybe he thought being quiet was going to give him a hard edge. He was surrounded by ruthless criminals and fucker looked like he belonged in a pop band. He had that cute fucking face Nixon knew girls went crazy for. His lips were plump, his eyes blue – the kind of blue someone like Vix would call riveting.
Personally, Nixon would have defined riveting with a punch to the pretty boy’s face.
Okay, he knew he wasn’t being sensible, and look, it wouldn’t have bothered Nixon. At all. Truly, if this pretty boy hadn’t been ogling Nixon’s girl with the hungriest eyes he ever did see, Nixon would have completely overlooked the baby face’s presence. But the fucker was slowly signing his death warrant, looking over Vix inch by precious inch.
Clearly, lines needed to be drawn. Nixon wasn’t a complete cunt. He knew the man-boy probably had no idea she was marked permanently. And, to be fair, Nixon liked when his girl turned heads. She was, after all, the most beautiful creature he ever did see.
But something about this guy got under Nixon’s skin, and it wasn’t the over the top confidence he radiated out of him as he looked about the room, sizing it up. It was something completely different. Something Nixon couldn’t quite put his finger on just yet.
As they all waited for Hobbs’ arrival, Nixon turned his attention to Tyrone’s conversation with Rowan. He was talking about his latest investment, though it was probably circling the drain right that very moment, like all the others. Doll inserted a few jabs along those lines, prompting Rowan to bite her head off.