Page 1 of Devious Truth (Vicious Sinners #3)

S ee Attendant

The words flash at me from the gas pump screen. I drop my chin to my chest and count to ten, biting back a groan.

Forgoing the embarrassment of having my debit card decline inside at the register, I dig through my purse for the ten dollar bill I keep stashed for emergencies. Ten bucks isn’t much, but it will get enough gas into my tank to get me to work.

By the end of my shift, I’ll have enough tips to fill the tank on my way home, and with a little luck, I’ll have enough left over to pay my rent in the morning.

At least traffic is on my side, and I pass the gates of Obsidian with fifteen minutes to spare before my shift starts.

The sun is practically gone from the sky, casting an ominous shadow over the mansion-turned-elite members-only club, Obsidian. The most powerful family in the city owns and runs the underground club. Membership is hard to come by, easy to lose, and risky to hold.

But that’s exactly how the Volkov brothers keep control in this city.

When I showed up for my first shift a year ago, I’d been taken aback by the haunting elegance of the place. The architecture is something right out of an architecture textbook with its tall, pointed gables and long, narrow windows with sharp arches and stained glass.

When I’d stepped up to the massive wooden doors, I wasn’t sure if I should use the heavy iron knockers, twisted into ornate, ominous shapes. Luckily, the doors had opened before I had to decide, and I’d been escorted inside.

The nervousness of that night is long past. If only every unpleasant memory could be stashed so neatly in an emotional drawer, never to open again.

“Vee! Wait up.” Caroline slams her car door and hurries to meet up with me at the set of stairs leading into the employee entrance.

The employees park in a gravel lot in the back of the mansion.

“I hope you have different shoes in your bag.” I point to the stiletto heels squeezing the life out of her petite feet.

“Nope. I’m counting on these babies to bring in record tips tonight.” She winks.

“They do shape your calves nicely.” I let her walk up the stairs ahead of me.

“What about my ass?” She lifts her jacket up over her hips so I can see her perfectly shaped ass through the fitted skirt of our Obsidian-issued uniform.

“It’s perfect.” I sigh. “Just like every night.”

She laughs. “It’s these squats. I’m telling you, Vee, you should come with me to the gym.”

I roll my eyes. “No thanks.”

Not that I wouldn’t love to join her and get her abs and ass, but my budget doesn’t allow for such frivolities like a healthy lifestyle.

“It’s not that you need it; I mean, you’re fucking beautiful. But imagine how much money you’d make if you showed it off a bit more.” She punches in the security code to the entrance and pulls the door open.

It’s a valid point. The sort of men who come to Obsidian aren’t looking for modesty. They want the sort of thing they can’t get at home. Even if there’s a strict look-don’t-touch policy here, they definitely are heavier handed with tips toward the girls that show better.

If I had the ability to dance, I’d really make a killing in one of the cages. But grace just isn’t in my DNA.

“Vee, good you’re here. Lisa called off tonight, so you’ll be taking half her section. Think you can handle it?” Meredith, our floor manager catches us just before we enter the staff locker room.

“Sure, no problem.”

And my luck just got a little better. It’ll be more work, but more tables mean more tips.

My gas tank will thank me later. Along with my landlord and credit card companies. Maybe I’ll have enough left over to be able to splurge on a bottle of wine.

“Great. And Caroline, you’re in the private gaming suites. Take room three and four. I put the player list on your locker for you.”

“Am I serving or do they need a dealer?” she asks.

Meredith checks her iPad. “Just drinks tonight.”

“Sounds good.” Caroline puts on a huge grin and hurries to her locker to snag the list taped to the outside.

“Gaming rooms. That’s going to be a great night for you.” I open my locker and shuck off my coat, hanging it inside.

“See, these heels are working for me already,” she says.

“Hopefully you’ll still be able to stand in a few hours.”

“I’ll be fine,” she assures me, leaning over the counter at the vanity mirrors to inspect her make up and comb her fingers through her lush black hair. “I’ll see you out there?”

“Yeah, I just need to change; then I’ll head out.”

“Why don’t you just come in your uniform?” she questions, a hand on her hip.

“Because it’s too tight to drive in comfortably,” I say, pulling out my uniform. “I’ll be out in five.”

“Oookay.” She checks herself in the mirror once more, then heads out.

I squeeze myself into my uniform. The black satin dress hugs my hips, and its square neckline skims just above my breasts. If I had more of them, it would probably help. But just like my bank accounts, there’s a deficit.

As I’m hooking the thin gold choker around my throat, my phone dances on the shelf in my locker. Another email notification about a balance that’s overdue glares up at me from my notifications.

I swipe the message away, noticing the date. My stomach squeezes, and the breath whooshes out of my lungs.

How could I have forgotten the date?

Pressing a hand to my stomach, I close my eyes and breathe. Five counts in, hold for three, out for five. I can do this.

I have to do this.

Life has to go on.

“Vee, time’s up, you coming?” Caroline pops her head in the door.

“Yeah. I’m coming.” I throw my phone back in my locker and slam it shut.

“They’re all here tonight.” Caroline sounds more like a high school girl than the twenty-seven-year-old woman she is with her announcement.

“Who?” With this club, ‘they’ could be anyone.

The mayoral board, the police chief and his entourage, any crime syndicate that isn’t at odds with the owners of the club. Anyone with enough money to secure a membership to Obsidian is going to have ties to something underhanded.

“The Volkovs. All three of them.” She squeezes my arm. “Which includes Ivan.”

“Caroline. The Volkovs own the place; they’re here all the time,” I remind her as I grab my cocktail tray.

“No, I mean they’re down here. They’re playing cards with Lev Yakovley and some other guy I’ve never seen before.”

“Aren’t you in those rooms tonight?”

I grin at her; she’s crushed on the youngest of the brothers for as long as I’ve known her.

“I am.” She presses her tray to her chest and tilts her head back. “And if there is a God he’ll put Kaz in my life tonight. Maybe you could put in a good word with Ivan for me.”

Caroline nudges me with an elbow and gives a wink.

“Don’t get started with that again.”

Ivan is the middle brother of the Volkov crime family, and ever since his gaze lingered slightly longer on me than Caroline, she’s been hounding me that he’s into me.

“Start what? Telling you again that Ivan has a huge thing for you and you’re absolutely insane to not at least explore that. At least for one date? He’d probably take you to the most elite restaurant in the city. The man is all class.”

“Caroline, we work in the most elite club in the city, if not the country. Why would I want to go to some boring restaurant?” I try to play off her words. “And besides, he’s the boss. It would be all kinds of wrong.”

“One date?”

“Any date. He’s my boss. I don’t date people I work with. It’s my own personal rule.”

She rolls her eyes. “Yeah, you’ve mentioned before. But this is Ivan Volkov we’re talking about. If you could see the way he looks at you when you’re not paying attention, you’d probably change your mind.”

“Well, that’s just another reason not to give in. Why would he be looking at me in any sort of way? I’m his employee. And he could get any woman in the world he wants.”

He could snap his fingers, and women would fall to their knees for him. While I wouldn’t blame them, I can’t be one of them.

“You’re purposely delusional.” She sighs. “He doesn’t seem to want any other woman. While Kaz walks through here with a new woman draped over his arm every night, Ivan doesn’t.”

“But I thought you wanted Kaz.” I tease.

“A girl can dream, right? And one of us should keep their options open when it comes to the Volkov brothers. Alexander’s off the market now, so that just leaves Kaz for me. Because Ivan is all about you.”

I ignore her last comment. There’s no talking reason to her on the subject.

“You’d be okay with just one night? Because with Kaz, that’s all you’d get,” I ask.

“Yeah. Maybe the fantasy is better than the reality.” She sighs just before a twinkle hits her eye. “But you know what? I’m willing to risk it.”

And with a wink, she’s gone, heading to the private suites.

There are three other waitresses working with me in the main lounge, and I’m a little surprised at how easily we’re able to keep up.

My feet ache, even in my short sensible heels, but the tips are flowing heavily enough to take the weight off just enough for me to keep my smile plastered across my face.

Halfway through my shift, one of the bartenders, Dominik, places the drinks I’ve ordered on my tray.

“Vee. When are you going to give me your phone number?” He leans his forearms against the bar.

“Not gonna happen.” Darren, the head bartender, reaches around Dominik for a glass with a smirk. “Vee here doesn’t date anyone she works with.”

I don’t date anyone, for that matter, but telling a guy that only seems to give them the impression it’s a challenge. They all seem to think they’ll be the one to win me over.

“Then I’ll quit.” Dominik flashes a grin with all teeth and a deep dimple on his right cheek that would make any woman melt.

I pull a face like I’ve just eaten a lemon wedge. “Ooh, I don’t date unemployed men either.”

“You’re killing me.” He feigns pain in his chest.

“Well, if you wouldn’t mind, die over there where you’re supposed to be changing out the kegs.”

Darren gives Dominik a little shove.

“He’s harmless, you know,” I say to Darren once Dominik’s out of ear shot.

“I know that, and you know that, but if Ivan heard him talking to you like that, I’m not sure he’d know that.” Darren eyes me. “I’m saving the man’s life.”

“Oh, not you, too.” I roll my eyes. “Just because Ivan has been slightly attentive to me when he’s around me doesn’t mean anything. He’s the owner of the club, and he’s most hands on down here, so it makes sense that he would know more about the staff than say…Alexander.”

“Hmm.” Darren’s attention gets pulled to the dance cages along the west wall of the lounge.

“Serenity’s looking good tonight.” I gesture toward the woman climbing into one of the dancer cages in the corner of the lounge.

She’s wearing a flowing dress that hits just where her thighs meet her ass. When she starts swaying and dancing, the hem rides up, showing off her curves. She’ll probably spend an hour in the cage dancing before accepting a bid to spend some private time with one of the members.

Darren’s glance lingers for several long moments before he turns back to me. Those two have had an on-again, off-again situation for the last year. Right now they’re off, but the heat rolling off his glare suggests it’s not going to stay that way for long.

“It’s obvious you like her, a lot. Maybe you should just be honest with her about it.”

He pulls back like I’ve just offered him a batch of brownies laced with rat poison. “Talk about feelings?”

“I know, it’s disgusting, but some women actually like an emotionally intelligent man.” I slide one drink over a bit on the tray to balance it out.

“Your table’s waiting.” He nods his head toward the lounge.

I laugh as I walk away. “Avoid it all you want; you know I’m right.”

As I lean between two men to slide their drinks onto the table, one of them blows a thick cloud of cigar smoke into my face. Holding my breath and trying to tamp down the urge to cough out the smoke, I place all four drinks down.

“Here you go.” A twenty-dollar bill lands on my tray. “Bring another round in twenty minutes.”

The voice is familiar. The creepy crawly sensation covering my skin is just as memorable. I grab the bill, tuck the tray under my arm and hurry to get a safe distance away from the table before turning around to see who had spoken.

My throat closes around a whimper. The scar on the left side of his face is a dead giveaway.

This shouldn’t be happening. I left all of that behind, five hundred miles in the past. What could he be doing here?

“Vee.”

A hand rests on my shoulder, and I jump, dropping my empty tray.

“Shit. Sorry.” I grab it and spin around on my heel to find a concerned Caroline staring at me.

“You good? You look spooked.”

It’s tempting to look back over my shoulder to see if the noise drew unwanted attention, but I manage to tamp down my panic enough to concentrate on Caroline.

I’ve been tired all day, I’m probably worrying about nothing.

Lots of men come into Obsidian with scars.

He could be anyone. I could be projecting.

“I’m fine. Just tired. How’s the game room going? Any luck?”

I force a playfulness to my voice as I lead her toward the bar, and away from the tables.

“With Kaz? No.” She huffs. “He’s been all business tonight, chatting up whoever that extra guy is with them. They keep switching to Russian, so I can’t understand what’s happening, but I think they’ve said the name DeAngelo a few times.”

“DeAngelo? They’ve put a ban on any member of their family from entering. Stripped all access from anyone connected to them, too.”

“Oh?” She raises her eyebrows. “Who told you that? Ivan?”

“Not directly. I heard him and Alexander talking when I was getting the stitches taken out of my palm.” I roll my eyes.

“You mean when Ivan brought in their family physician to remove the stitches that he had brought the doctor to the club to put in for you in the first place,” she clarifies with a heavy dose of sarcasm weighing down her words.

“Don’t make more of it than it was.” My palm itches where the cut from the broken beer stein has healed.

Ivan just happened to be in the room when I’d cut myself; that’s why helped me. It was no more than an employer helping his employee.

“Oh, I know what it was. It’s you who refuses to see what’s right in front of your face.” She smirks.

“Caroline, I won’t even go out with a guy I work with, much less the man I work for ,” I remind her.

“Speaking of the man you work for…” Caroline dips her chin with a wicked smile.

I don’t have to turn to understand her meaning. The air seems to change just from his presence.

“Vivienne.” Ivan’s unmistakable voice wraps around me like a blanket fresh from the dryer. “We need a bottle of Vodka. The Legend of Kremlin.”

“Oh, I’ll get it.” Caroline leans to glance around me, her tone innocent.

When my gaze meets his, the darkness of it sends a shiver through me.

“Vivienne will bring it.”