Page 9 of Retaliation
I shrugged innocently. “I might have mentioned it in the note I slipped under his door earlier.”
“And how is this part of your plan?” Tibby’s eyebrows rose up into her pink hair. Her matching pink lips tipped up into a smile worthy of the Cheshire Cat.
“I had a feeling my little meeting earlier would be a bust, even with all the torturing bits. He was too low on the food chain. I need to aim higher.” I dropped my voice, leaning closer to Tibby. “I saw a strange tattoo on Dev and I think I remember it. The men who murdered Lailah and my mother had similar markings. I know it was the founders who took her and I’d wager all four of the Princes have the same tattoos. It means something, and I’m going to find out what that is. Jackson said one of the founders talked about going to North Carolina. I need you to look into it. Weird money trails to big properties, strange deaths, anything out of the ordinary.”
Tibby saluted me, leaning back. “Got it, boss lady.”
I hopped off the stool, grabbing the fresh vodka tonic the bartender slid toward me. “Thanks, Ryan.”
“Break a leg, Sara.” He winked. He was cute, not much taller than me, but stacked with muscles. His blond hair was trimmed neatly, and he was always clean-shaven. A little too cleaned up for my tastes, but his British accent made all the other girls feral.
I gave a little salute as I walked away toward the dressing rooms.
“So, Ryan, is it?” Tibby turned on the charm. She was beautiful and feisty, just his type. And like Tibby, he had no problems bringing extra bodies into the bedroom for a good time. Where I liked to wallow in darkness alone, Tibby preferred to keep her demons at bay by surrounding herself with naked bodies and regaling me with stories of her multiple orgasms.
I ducked into my own little dressing room and stripped out of the black clothes. The faint scent of smoke clung to my clothes, and I stuffed them in a mint-scented trash bag to mask the smell. My hair didn’t smell too bad, but I spritzed the strands with a scented dry shampoo just to be safe. I slipped a shimmering gold dress out of the garment bag and dropped it over my head. The sleeveless dress hugged my curves, pooling around my feet. The corset boning of the top half propped up my cleavage, and I deftly buttoned up the back. I pinned my blue locks and secured the Marilyn Monroe wig against my hair. I kept the brown contacts in and added bright-red lipstick, quickly touching up the winged eyeliner and false lashes. I leaned against the doorframe as I strapped the gold heels to my feet, humming the song I planned on singing to loosen my vocal chords. The silk gloves I saved for last, slipping them up my arms before opening the door.
Josie popped her bright-red head into my room with a smile. Her cropped hair was a new color almost every other week. “Need any help?”
I shook my head, standing tall in my four-inch heels. “Nope. Ready to rock.”
“Go show them who runs the world, girl.” Josie winked, shimmying her chest, and I laughed.
“Always.” I grinned.
My stomach was full of excited butterflies, and my skin tingled with anticipation. I wasn’t much for center stage, but dressed up like this, no one had a clue who I was. No one ever did. My voice might be well-known at the club, but I dressed in wigs, makeup, and contacts to hide the real me from the crowd. I pointedly ignored the extra nerves that might or might not have been because of the very sexy Obscuritas Prince in the crowd.
A rush of adrenaline spiked in my blood as I settled my face into a seductive smile and sauntered onto the stage. The lights dimmed until only a golden light shone on my vintage microphone where the stand manager had placed it at center stage for me. The crowd buzzed with excitement as I stepped into the spotlight. A few low whistles pierced the hushed silence.
I looked up, keeping my gaze hooded and my lips slightly parted. I spotted Dev in the crowd. His eyes were wide with shock, and I gave him a wink. His gaze traveled from my gold heels to my blonde wig, and he smirked devilishly. My body heated under his undivided attention.
The low musical notes of the song began to play, and I pressed my lips close to the mic, running my hands down the curves of my hips. “As the mesmerizing Mae West once said,” I whispered huskily into the mic. “Anything worth doing, is worth doing slowly.”
The beat dropped and I sang out the first line of the song, letting the crowd fade away as I fell into the beauty of the music around me. “Ooh…oohhhh…” I sang out the lyrics to “A Guy What Takes His Time,” drawing the audience in to feel what I wanted them to feel. Lust.
CHAPTER THREE
Devon
As Sara took the stage, my dick jumped to attention. I had to adjust my dark-washed jeans as I followed the curve of her swaying hips. She looked extra fuckable in that golden dress. Holy fuck. I barely recognized her when she walked into the spotlight. Her silvery blue hair was hidden away under the platinum blonde wig, which anyone would believe was real. Whoever was in charge of costumes for this club deserved a raise. She looked like Marilyn reincarnated with her soft curves and full, red lips. Her eyes glided across the room, a blend of innocence and seduction like the woman she now embodied.
I almost didn’t come out tonight. But then she’d invited me to La Noircoeur. I knew the place, of course, given that The Obscuritas owned it. She mentioned working at a club, but I never would’ve guessed it was this one. When I arrived, I hunted for the royal assholes, but lower level Obscuritas members occupied all the VIP booths. The Kings and their little Princes rarely left their mansions to mingle with the general public. It set my teeth on edge being here, and if anyone else had asked, I would’ve said no.
Sara never once mentioned she could sing. And not just sing, her voice was like a siren’s song, clawing its way into my soul. It vibrated through me until my insides burned with desire. I could understand why the sailors were lured to their deaths, their souls burning with the need to be closer to the angel calling out to them. I wanted to lick every inch of her body and devour her melodic voice with my tongue. I fidgeted in my seat, unable to relieve the pressure of the blood pumping to my dick. I noted several other men in the crowd squirming and eyeing my girl hungrily. I wanted to punch their fucking faces in.
Jesus, Dev. Your girl? Sara barely acknowledged you most nights. I gulped down my whiskey to smother the possessive thoughts racing through my mind. But she did invite me here, so that had to mean something, right?
Sara’s voice caressed the last line of the song as the music quieted, and her eyes locked on mine. I winked at her with a smirk, keeping my feelings aloof as possible. She blushed, and I ate up the pink color flushing her skin. The music ended, and the crowd jumped to their feet, whistling and tossing money on the stage. Someone even tossed a red rose at her feet. She turned to pick it up, giving everyone a look at her glorious ass in that tight, sparkling dress. I growled possessively, but the sound was drowned out by the wolf whistles and catcalls of other men. She sniffed the rose delicately and dipped her head in a curtsy, demure and sexy as fuck. Marilyn would have approved. Hell, Mae West, the song’s original singer, would have also enjoyed that show.
Sara left the stage, and five women decorated in feathers and glitter pranced onto it for the next act. I gulped down my whiskey and headed for the bar. A woman with bright-pink hair winked at me, and I eyed her curiously. Did I know her? I didn’t think so. As a bar owner, I had a solid memory for faces, and hers didn’t register. I leaned across the bar and ordered a bottle of champagne.
“Enjoy the show?” Pinky asked with a smile. She was a pretty little thing, but my dick was firmly interested in one woman.
“I did.” I gave her a smirk as the bartender popped the champagne bottle, passing it over with two empty glasses. “I’m off to offer my congratulations to Marilyn.”
Pinky laughed, the sound like the tinkling of bells. “You do that.”
I wasn’t sure what she meant, so I smiled casually and nodded before walking toward the right side of the stage. Performers eyed me curiously as I passed dressing rooms but said nothing as I looked for my Marylin. I finally stopped at the door with her name on it and knocked.
