Page 15 of Queenpin
Chapter 6
Lucian
Getting dressed in my club gear is about my favorite part of the day. I love the feeling of my silk stockings as they shimmy up my freshly waxed body. I love the feel of my lingerie which is hand crafted from Italy to fit all of my curves just perfectly.
Some people would call me a savage for killing people to defend my product and money. I would call myself the mother fucking queen. With that being said, just because I’m the little gangster girl, I like nice things and I like to flaunt it.
Growing up, my family had a little bit of money, but most of it was put into our education. My parents were immigrants and fought for us to go to school and the saddest part was, my brother and I didn’t even graduate high school.
All throughout my childhood, my parents used to drill it in our heads the importance of needing an education if we wanted to make something of ourselves. Here I am, with a ninth-grade education level and raking in forty thousand dollars in a week for pedaling the same shit my parents fought to keep us away from.
The silk stockings feel smooth against my skin. Coating and covering every inch of my neatly groomed body. I wouldn’t say I’m muscular, by any means, but I do know how to fight when needed. These stockings make me feel like a woman.
What I don’t like to do is trying to find out what to wear over this. Damn. Maybe I should just move my operations to a nudist colony that way I could be naked all of the time.
I comb through my extensive closet that I have tucked in to the back of my high-rise apartment. This is the main reason why I bought this apartment. I love this fucking closet. It’s roomy and gives me access to have a cushioned seat in the middle of the room in order to sit in while I consider this.
The owners of the building almost swallowed their tongues when I bought this apartment with cash on the spot. I had one rule and that was the simple fact my name couldn’t be on the apartment. If someone were to come looking for me, I’m going to make it hard. There’s no telling the amount of people I have pissed off over the years to get to the top.
My apartment has an open landscape. Nothing is boxed in and I had to knock down a couple of walls to ensure I didn’t feel trapped. I have to be able to have my eyes on the exists at all times in case I get raided.
My closet is divided into two different sections. There is one side that is mainly professional clothing- suits, dress shirts and all of that boring shit, along with the shoes that match. On the other side, I have my club gear. It’s fitted with leather bodices and lingerie that will make people beg.
And that’s the name of the game. To make people crawl and beg at my feet.
I slip my feet into my red soled designer shoes, over the bullet wound on the top of my foot from a battle I had last year, and then pluck a short black dress off the hanger. Every woman needs an LBD and this one is perfect for tonight.
Why is tonight so important? Tonight, I’m going to see if that Mason is willing to pass my tests and if he is an all right candidate for what I need and want.
I’m tired of these boys that don’t understand the score and I need a man that will do what I want when I want it. Not expect me to be in the kitchen cooking his dinner and then ironing his underwear. No, fuck that. I have a career and a club to run. I’m not your little woman to be kept up in the apartment.
Raul lets himself into my place and then hollers at me. “Luca! Are you almost ready? People are going to be there at any moment. I know how much you like to greet everyone.”
He stops in front of me and I poof my hair out a little to let the controlled waves of it flow more. When he takes in my outfit, he drops to his knees in front of me. “You are so beautiful, Madam. Holy shit.”
I grin but then firm my facial expressions. Once I have myself controlled, I raise my hand and slap him across the face. “Watch your mouth and get off your knees.” When he stands at his full height, I kiss him on his cheek.
My suspicions from earlier are still tickling my mind. I need to make sure I can trust him. I need to make sure he’s still on my side and he’s not sharing my moves with the rival gangs. I don’t need a leak in my pipe.
Unless he’s trying to kill me to get me out of the way.
That would be fucked up and I would take him down with me.
As we walk out, the heel of my shoe catches on a piece of paper that is folded up into a little square. I bend at the waist and pick up the thick cardboard stock paper.
It’s folded neatly and on the front of it is my name written in big block letters. The writing reminds me of chicken scratch and there is nothing uniform about it. The person who wrote this obviously wrote with the less dominant hand.
Raul grabs my clutch for me and hands it to me. “Tell me about this boy you have coming tonight. Is he the reason why you are all dressed up?”
I bundle the note into a tighter square and stuff it in my clutch as I take it from Raul. I will have to look at it later. It’s not the first time I have received a note with this hand writing, I need to compare it to the others. “What the fuck are you talking about? I could care less about some little boy that is cooking in the party room.”
He chuckles and we step into the elevator together. When I hit the button for the ground floor, Raul shakes his head. “Does he know what the rooms are? Has he even heard of us?”
I mean, the man has a point to ask these questions. He owns fifteen percent of the business and that is only to make sure I have protection from the Big Heavy. Big Heavy is no joke and I can’t have them coming to my club asking questions.
Especially since I have someone running their fucking mouth in here.
“Nah. I’m having him sign an NDA before he’s even allowed to step foot though the club doors.”
