Page 128 of Mafia Boss's Fake Wife

I push my breasts up and take a deep breath, steeling my nerves. “I thought I was boring,” I mock, sticking my tongue out at Dylan.

“Don’t pick a fight with me. Get out there.” Dylan points the cigarette at the door behind me, and I huff, sharply turning around on my six-inch stilettos.

I add an extra sway in my hips and make my way to the main floor, sliding just out of reach of some of the handsy men. I get wolf calls and “Hey baby,” but there is one set of eyes that silently weigh on me.

I look up to the left corner of the club, my eyes locking with a set of deep blue eyes. His gaze burns into mine, causing a thrill to ripple through me. I can feel his eyes tracing every curve, every dip of my silhouette, as I make my way through the club. I am drowning in his bright blue eyes.

He holds my gaze and lazily sips the amber liquid from his tumbler. I lean forward, eyes hooded behind the rogue strand from his slick back, dirty blonde hair. I can’t help but keep my gaze on him, his presence drawing me like a moth to a flame.

“Goddamn, you are fine!” Tyler’s whistle breaks the man’s trance. I look up at the smug motherfucker in a white tank top and dirty blue jeans. His buzz cut is colored green but looks purple under the neon lights, and despite all the ways he could be cute, he is just shy of being good-looking.

I stare at the angry pink scar pulsating on his face, but I mask the shiver of disgust with a seductive smile. “Well, I heard you boys were looking for me?”

“Hell yeah, baby!” An eager member who looks a little too young to be in here smiles, looking at the rose tattoo that spirals up my legs and gathers on my left butt cheek.

“Come sit on Daddy’s lap, Gwen.” There is nothing more unattractive than a man calling himself Daddy. Major ick. That honor should be bestowed upon you, not self-titled.

“Oh, come, Ty. If you want to take me home, you need to try harder than that.” I walk closer, almost between his thighs, crossing one foot in front of another, sliding my hips side to side like a snake charmer. Tyler leans back in his chair, legs wide, eyes hooded with a visible tent growing in his jeans.

“You know Mason won’t let none of us touch you.” I give him my best pout, squatting between his legs and peering up through my eyelashes.

Leaning up by his ear, I whisper, “Well, ain’t that too damn bad.” I’m not fucking Mason. I’m not fucking anyone, never have, but Mason claimed me as if I was his future wife. He knows if I had it my way, I’d have him swimming with the fishes before I would ever voluntarily call him husband.

Tyler swallows, his eyes running over the curves of my body. When his eyes land on mine, he licks his lips and says, “Jordan is waiting outside for this week’s payment. Side door.”

“Thanks, love.” I wink, blowing Tyler a kiss that makes his eyes lower.

With a flamboyant flourish, I turn around and switch my hips over to the side door when my eyes drift up to that man again. The tumbler he was drinking out of is abandoned on the side table next to his empty seat, glittering under the dance lights. I huff, blowing air between my lips. You need to get it together, Gwen; no paying attention to the hot, mysterious stranger’s absence when Venom is waiting for payment.

Maneuvering through the crowd and keeping out of Dylan’s eyeline, I make my way to the side alley. Knocking my rightshoulder into the metal door, I stumble into the side alley where the midnight air bites at my exposed flesh. I gaze to my right, where Venom lazily smokes a cigarette.

“Venom, buddy!” I laugh, holding the metal door open with my hip and crossing my arms under my chest. “How the hell are ya?”

Venom, a big, burly man with thin lips and a bald head so shiny it gleams in the streetlights, smiles at me, flicking the ash from the cigarette at my feet. “Well, Gwendolyn?—”

“Ew, not my full government.” I grimace. Venom smirks, looking at me from the corner of his eye, and if I didn’t watch him break my father’s kneecap with his bare hands, Venom would be just my type. He is the enforcer in Mason’s inner circle, and if I ever stopped paying my payments, Venom would be the one to track me down and kill me after he has all the fun he wants with me, and from his gaze, I can tell I would be in for a long night.

“From the tone of your voice,” he takes another pull of his cigarette, “you’re missing part of your payment.” I cross my legs, giving my most innocent smile.

“Oh, only by 125 dollars.”

Venom lets out a low whistle.

“But I have three hours left in this shift. I promise I’ll have it by the end. I mean, come look at these.” I motion to my breasts with a clever grin on my face.

Venom finally turns his body to me, his eyes shamelessly ogling my chest. His smile widens, showcasing his pearly whites, while his eyes move from my breasts to the curve created by my tiny waist and wide hips.

I place my left hand on my hip. “Woah there, Venom. Keep looking at me like that, and I’ll charge you.”

Venom tosses the cigarette on the floor and places both of his large hands on my hips, dragging me into his chest. I yelp, scrambling to fight him off before the door closes, but I am too late, and he is too strong. “You know there is an easier way to work off that debt, Gwen.”

“Oh,” I giggle nervously, trying to wiggle out of his embrace, but Venom pulls me in closer, forcing me to inhale his stink of cigarettes. I almost gag on the smoke still spilling out of his lips. I make my voice firm, losing all of my playfulness as I make eye contact with his black eyes. “Venom, if you are looking for a lap dance, go inside the club.”

“Baby, I don’t want no fucking lap dance,” Venom’s smile is sinister, “I want you on your knees sucking my dick,” he whispers heavily.

“Venom, what the fuck?” I jerk back in his arms, moving to knee him in the dick.

“You’re right; that’s only worth like fifty.” His hands run from my waist, and he grips both of my cheeks, kneading my ass. “I’ll fuck you in the ass after. We can call that an even 200, what do you say?”

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