Page 14 of Sinful Restraint

The twisting of my knife made him wail even louder, and although Baarbie had been quiet, he screamed out in that moment, his eyes a mix between being not fully aware of what was happening, and a bit shocked at the blood pouring out around Calvin.

Usually, I liked to play with my toys a bit more, but a quick glance at the wall clock proved that the club had already opened, and the kitchen staff would be filing in soon to start preparing for the night. All my staff was vetted and had signed NDAs. However, I didn’t like handling crime business during club hours.

After removing my knife from his groin, I slit his throat quick and precise, wiping the blood on his clothes. Then I stood and watched his body jerk a few times before the life left his eyes.

Turning to Mekhi and Phil, I nodded to Calvin’s body. “Phil, get Tony to help you handle this shit, then get cleaned up after. Mekhi, find Calvin’s brother and make sure he understands that he still has a place working for me if he wants it. He’s a major reason we found out his brother was a mole.”

Mekhi didn’t ask any questions. Only nodded, already dragging Baarbie deeper into one of the side rooms to sober him up a bit while Phil tended to the body. Baarbie started pleading with Mekhi for Ken to be able to come with him, but it was too late for that shit. Calvin was dead, and the only reason Baarbie was still breathing was because I still felt like the man I once knew was in there somewhere. Maybe with Calvin gone, we could get him back.

chapter six

After taking a deep breath,I walked off, adjusting my cufflinks as I made my way through the kitchen and up to my office. Right after I finished washing my hands and changing my suit jacket, my phone buzzed with a text message from my front door bouncer, Homero.

Santari’s at Fixation Bar. She wants to see you. Wouldn’t leave.

“Shit,” I huffed, washing my hands before straightening my clothes to head to the lower-level bar of my club.

I exhaled, rolling my shoulders back as I shook off Cruz the crime boss, to channel Cruz the pain-in-the-ass jokester that she was expecting.

Or at least, that was the plan before I actually laid eyes on her while walking down the stairs to the main level and realized there was nothing funny about how gorgeous Santari Lake turned out to be.

The deep bass of the Afro-Cuban music thrumming through the speakers matched the beating of my chest before I even hit the main floor. The club was already starting to get packed, people filling every part of the black marble floors. A few of my VIPs distracted me on my way to Santari, but I had to play the part of club owner, greeting a few of the fresh money millionaires who were new to Miami, and the old-timers who often placed bets on which of the fresh moneys would bankrupt first.

After a quick two-minute detour, my focus was locked on her as she laughed at whatever my bartender, Kesia, was saying to her as she sat at the bar, her back straight, legs crossed, sporting that innocent look on her face that made her seem out of place in a spot like this.

She wasn’t built for these kinds of nights, and damn sho’ wasn’t made for my kind of world, but damn if she didn’t wear the hell out of that sexy black dress. Even while she was sitting, it clung to her curves, hugging every place I’d spent too many nights in my life imagining my hands on.And those goddamn black heels.They were laced up to her calves and showed just enough mahogany skin to make a muthafucka like me reckless. Or at least, more reckless than usual.

My jaw flexed as I approached, stopping just close enough to feel the warmth of her body before I made my presence known and asked, “What the fuck are you doin’ in here dressed like that?”

Her straight, shoulder-length hair whipped my way, and her brown eyes peeked between her bangs and snapped to mine, amusement flickering across them before she casually sipped her drink. “Nice to see you, too, Cruz.”

I ignored the tease in her voice, my eyes dragging down the length of her again even though I shouldn’t. “Santari.” My tone came out lower, rougher. “Why are you in my club dressed like this?”

Glancing down at her outfit, she asked, “How else am I supposed to dress in a club?”

“You know what the fuck I mean,” I spat, crossing my arms over my chest. “What are you doing here?”

She sighed, setting her glass down. “I was supposed to meet Gina for drinks, but she canceled last minute.”

“Sounds like Gina.” I didn’t trust anyone else with my locs, but Gina had a terrible sense of time.

“So I figured I would finally check out your new club.” Santari lifted a shoulder, like it was no big deal. “I was hoping for a tour since I’ve never been here. When I was leaving work, I remembered that the other day Storm mentioned this location.”

I frowned, making a mental note to ask Storm why the hell he was bringing up the club to Santari anyway. I needed her less in my space, not more in it. My gut told me maybe he was avoiding getting too close to her too since she was an admin at the university he taught at.

I should’ve been annoyed as hell that Santari was in my space minutes after I’d killed a man, but the sight of her sitting there, legs crossed, sippin’ my expensive top-shelf liquor, lookin’ like a problem only I could solve?

Yeah, that shit did something to me. Before I could say anything I’d regret, Elijah—who managed everything that happened on the third level—appeared at my side. “Your guest is waiting in the Velvet Room.”

I nodded before glancing back at Santari. “I’ll give you a tour later.” I placed a hand on the small of her back, guiding her toward the front door. “I’ll be home, so I’ll talk to you at home tomorrow and set another date for the tour.”

She spun away from my hand and knocked over one of the black velvet rope stands.Of course she had to knock something over.

“Sorry,” she said, bending down to pick it up at the same time that I did, causing us to knock foreheads.

“Goddamn,” I huffed. “That shit hurt.”

“Only because you have a big ass head!” she exclaimed, rubbing hers.

---