Page 174 of Sinfully Savage Mafia

“What are we gonna do now?” Bruno mumbles.

“First, we save Enrico,” I say, clenching my fists tight. “And second? We show Torres exactly what retaliation feels like, Villani-style.”

CHAPTER7

JAELYN

Electronic dance music blares from the speakers set up around the perimeter of the nightclub. The beats ricochet off of the walls, pulsating between my temples as I walk into the dressing room. Cassia and Velvet are at each other’s throats again. The two biggest pains in the asses on our payroll also happen to be the two biggest stars on any given night. This place isn’t big enough for both of them, and someone made a colossal screw-up when they put them both on the schedule for tonight. Everyone knows they’re never supposed to perform on the same evening, but somehow, here they both are. And now both are threatening to walk out if the other doesn’t give up her spot to bethestar pussy.

All of the girls are getting ready for their dance numbers as I storm into the room, my fingertips digging hard into my flesh, my fists balled tight at my sides. I walk right up to Cassia, who, in her heels probably has about six inches on me. She opens her mouth to speak and I silence her with a death glare.

“Cassia,” I say, struggling to keep my voice even. “Tell me something. Why do you work here?”

She furrows her brow, her lips curling into a smirk. “Because you guys pay the best of any club in Vegas and I make a shit ton in tips.” She pauses, shooting a nasty look at Velvet. “And because you give me top billing whenever I dance.”

I look at Velvet, my eyebrow lifted. “I assume the same goes for you?”

Velvet’s spine stiffens and she sneaks a look at Cassia before meeting my fiery gaze. “Yeah, Jae, this place is the best.”

“So,” I bark. “Since you both seem to be happy with your current employment, are you really going to fuck it up for yourselves? Do you want to moonlight at the fucking Flamingo instead? Or are you going to deal with the fact that someone accidentally put you here on the same night and give the audience what they happily overpaid to see?”

Cassia and Velvet exchange a grudging look, both mumbling something I can barely register. But I don’t really care. As long as they dance, I don’t give a shit how they feel about each other. Or me, for that matter.

They aren’t here because they love what they do. They’re not here to make friends. They’re here to do a job and to collect all of the green that comes with it.

I’m here to make sure they earn every red cent that goes into their hot little hands at the end of each night, so settling little bitch brawls before they rage is a pretty important part of my job description.

I stare at them both, stone-faced, for a long minute before they back away to get ready for their performances.

“Nice job,” Ashleigh whispers.

I roll my eyes at her, biting down on my lip to keep from smiling. Everyone sees me as the big bad bitch manager and I always play the part. Trying to be friends is pointless. I just don’t have it in me to care about anyone besides my brother. Besides, these bitches are crazier than I am. “Come with me,” I say under my breath as I turn to leave the dressing room.

She follows close behind as I push open the door and pull it closed tight behind me. “Hey, so who were those guys with you before?” Ashleigh asks, her voice rising with interest. “You were wearing your RBF, but I could tell you were into the one whom you nearly crippled with your shoe.” She lets out a giggle and I huff at her display of amusement.

Resting bitch face.

Yeah, I wear it well.

And Ash always notices it.

“They were just some guys who wanted to meet with Nate. You know he’s thinking about expanding this place. They own, um, a construction company.” She doesn’t need to know the truth, especially since she didn’t see me canoodling with Sergio last week, focused on my spy game.

“And you impaled the hot one with your heel because…?” She quirks a brow at me, egging me on.

I shrug. “He got a little mouthy.”

“Ha!” Ash snickers. “And in this scenario, were you the pot? Or the kettle?”

“I’m a businesswoman,” I say in a stiff voice. “I don’t appreciate it when men act like condescending assholes, thinking that just because they’re dealing with a woman that they can make, you know, innuendoes. And that the women will just melt at their feet.” I can feel a heated flush creep up the sides of my neck, and Ashleigh can’t help but point it out with a hint of glee in her voice.

“You’re getting kind of hot and bothered over this ‘guy,’” she says with a knowing wink. “Maybe you weren’t as offended as you’d like me to believe.”

“Please!” I snort. “And anyway, it won’t happen again. Nate wasn’t interested in hearing what they had to say.” I turn away from Ashleigh, berating myself for allowing Sergio Villani to burrow under my skin. I figured if I stomped on his foot, he’d go running and I could forget about how he backed me up against that column, how warm and demanding his hand felt as it clutched my hip, how his rough touch scorched every inch of my skin and made me feel things…bad things…dangerous things.

Things I can’t ever act upon.

Things I no longer have the freedom to feel.

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