Page 54 of Dimitri
They even feel sick at the thought of selling her purity to the highest bidder.
I don’t want to do this, however I don’t have a choice. If I want any chance of raising my daughter, I have to sell my soul to the devil, or at the very least, Roxanne’s.
Fighting the urge not to demand Smith to send someone to Roxanne’s room to forcefully remove Rocco, I shut down the live stream of her room, slip my phone into my pocket, then slide into the booth one of my father’s most respected comrades just vacated.
My father’s eyes reveal his shock at my arrival, but he plays it cool like he always does. “Son, what brings you to New York? I didn’t think this was your scene.”
While silently mocking me about my dislike of the wife-swapping caucuses that net the Petretti entity a tidy profit every year, he strays his eyes over the two-hundred plus attendees at the annual event. I understand most of the men’s objectives in this room, fucking the same woman for the rest of your life could get tedious, but why shell out thousands of dollars to have another man’s leftovers for the night? And don’t get me started on the fact they’re happy to loan their wives out. That isn’t something I could ever do. If you touch what is mine, expect to pay dearly for it.
Rocco is about to learn that the hard way.
“I have a business proposal I’d like your opinion on before moving forward with plans. I heard whispering that you’re in favor of this type of industry. Although I could have waited until you returned home, this is a time-sensitive matter.”
After signaling for the topless waitress responsible for keeping my father’s glass well-stocked to bring me a double shot of whiskey, I dig out the photo I had Smith print earlier today before sliding it to my father’s side of the table. It’s a still image of Roxanne after I left her in the sex chamber. Her eyes are wide and terrified, her cheeks are flushed, and the undeniable gleam of lust makes her pasty white skin look almost translucent. She puts forth the image of a woman in desperate need of a hard and rough fuck, but her innocence is undeniable.
I’m not surprised when my father tosses Roxanne’s photo down without the slightest smidge of recognition forming in his eyes. When you’ve been in this industry as long as him, you don’t recognize one blonde over another. It’s why I had a member of my staff peroxide Roxanne’s hair before booking an emergency dermatologist appointment to lighten her scar. Two simple changes immediately removed her from my father’s radar.
I was hoping it would be the same for me. Alas, even knowing how much grief she’s brought into my life hasn’t altered my opinion of her. I’m as captivated by her as I was when she tried to hide her beauty with chunky boots and punk meal attire. I just can’t react to my impulses this time around. Until Fien is safe, business must come first.
My dreary thoughts snap back to the present when my father says, “She’ll fetch a few thousand a night. Call Mario, he’ll put her straight to work.”
He arches a bushy brow when I reply, “I want more than a few thousand for her. She’s untouched. Pure. The wholly fucking grail of womanhood.” My father tries to act disinterested, but I can smell the excitement slicking his skin. “She can cook. She had above-average grades in school and is obedient to a fault. I doubt it would take much to train her to her master’s specifications, but I’m also curious to discover if there’s a way I could profit off her more than once.” My words aren’t mine. I stole them from Roxanne’s father.
My father stares at me for several heart-thrashing seconds before he lowers his hooded gaze to Roxanne’s photo. “Has her purity been verified?”
“Yes,” I lie. “I attended her appointment in person. Moses could barely slip his index finger inside of her.”
When the waitress sets down my glass of whiskey, I raise it to my mouth, needing something to hide the clench of my jaw when the recognition I was seeking earlier darts through my father’s eyes. I’ve never met Moses. I merely used a name Roxanne’s father blurted out when I crucified his insolence one nail at a time.
He isn’t bound to a chair with rope anymore.
He’s nailed there.
My smirk slips when my father asks, “What were the results of her scan?”
I almost stumble, but the quickest memory of Ian blubbering about him not being able to afford a scan of Roxanne’s ovaries and uterus for the delay in her sale keeps my ruse authentic. “They were clear. She’s ready to breed.”
“Hmm…” He slouches low into his chair before twisting his lips. He hates the idea of trusting me, but since I’ve never given him any reason not to, he does.Thank fuck.“She’d make a decent profit by selling her virginity then putting her in the trade, but I think you’re right, the margin will be larger in another market.” Not willing to give away his trade secrets in front of people he considers lesser than him, he props his elbows onto the table wedged between us before leaning over to my half. “There are several ways you could do this. Where do your interests lie?”
“On whatever makes the most money.”
He huffs out a proud chuckle. That’s all my father cares about—money. “It does make the world go around.” After another laugh that’s more creepy than exciting, he asks, “Is she your only asset?”
“For now,” I lie again. “I have others in the works, but I figured I’d tip my toes into the water with her first, get a sense of the market. I’ve grown bored of the prostitution conglomerate. I need something fresh and exciting.” Don’t ask why my mind strayed to Roxanne during my last sentence. It just did. “But I’m out of my league here, Pops. I need a big gun to show me the way.” That fucking hurt to say. Every word was the equivalent of dragging a razor blade up my throat. It stung like a thousand bees, but it was extremely effective. I’ve never seen my father look as pompous as he does now.
“Let’s talk somewhere private. We can’t be sure our competition isn’t listening in.”
I down my whiskey in one hit before following his slide out of the booth. Its burn gives me an excuse for the heat on my cheeks when a ghost of my past flies back into my life on her witch’s broom.
Theresa Veneto was once in charge of the narcotics division at Ravenshoe PD. She’s also one of the female officers I mentioned who are willing to disregard drug distribution tips when she’s flat on her back being fed my dick. We played nice when we needed to. When we didn’t, things turned ugly.
I lost thirty thousand dollars in un-cut coke when she walked in on her deputy giving me head. That’s a street value of over two hundred thousand dollars. I didn’t take the hit in revenue well. If it weren’t for Audrey calling to tell me she was pregnant with Fien, Theresa wouldn’t have left Ravenshoe PD breathing.
Strands of long blonde hair fall onto Theresa’s shoulder when she leans in to place a kiss on the edge of my father’s mouth. “I thought we were dining alone tonight?”
A well brought up person would acknowledge her quiet tone as a wish to keep her conversation between my father and herself. I’m not close to normal. “Plans changed. You can see yourself out.”
When I click my fingers two times, demanding for one of my father’s goons to show Theresa the door, she locks her eyes with my father’s. “Col?” Shock filters across her attractive face when he doesn’t immediately jump to her defense. “We have business to discuss.”
