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34

HAWK

We arrive at The Mansion, and from the outside, it fits the name perfectly. It’s a large expanse of a building with several floors and acres of land surrounding it. We park underground and take the elevator up to the first floor. Matteo doesn’t discuss what’s on the lower levels, but I have my suspicions.

The elevator doors open to a lobby area, where we’re greeted by a beautiful blonde in a tight-fitting black dress with a plunge neck and a hem that cuts off just below her ass. She’s pretty, but she does nothing for me.

“Mr. Parisi,” she greets Vincenzo first with her hand lightly touching his shoulder. “It’s so good to see you too, Mr. Parisi.” This time she verbally addresses Matteo, but her eyes are on me. “Mr. Venatti is waiting for you in the back office. Do you know the way, or would you like an escort?”

“No. Thank-you,” Vincenzo says curtly, removing her hand from his body with a look of disdain.

Either the woman doesn’t see his reaction or doesn’t fucking care. She smiles suggestively, licking her lips as she looks me up and down. “Perhaps your friend would like a tour,” she offers.

“We’re here to see Marcello on business.” Matteo grunts. “Perhaps after we’re done, you can assist my friend here with his membership papers.”

What’s he doing? Offering me up on a platter to this bitch?

Her eyes widen and sparkle with excitement. Any other time I’d be all over an opportunity like this, ready to let her teach me the ropes, but somehow the way she’s flirting with me irritates me. It feels … disrespectful .

“I’m sure I can find my way around on my own. Or perhaps I’ll bring my woman in, and she can show me around since she’s already a member,” I reply.

“Mr. Hawkins has a submissive, Miss Marks,” Vincenzo informs the hostess, who drops her eyes to the floor, looking contrite.

“My apologies, Sir.” Her voice is soft, but reverent. “I meant no disrespect. If you and your lady find that you need anything, please feel free to ask. The staff would be more than happy to serve you.”

Matteo chuckles as we walk past, making our way through the club to the office. I scan each room briefly as we pass, taking in what little I can of each scene. Women are in various outfits. One with her breasts on display. The top of her dress is gathered around her midsection while sitting on her partner’s lap, seemingly uncaring that the people at their table are staring at her nakedness.

Another woman is sprawled out on a bench, her ass bared and red as she takes a whipping with a cane while onlookers watch, enthralled. Several couples throughout the club are obviously fucking each other out in the open, while others are packed away in secluded corners.

It’s like a club party, only fancier. They offer a few more implements and locations than I have at the clubhouse, but that can all be adjusted.

I make a mental note to find out what Sadie likes. What intrigues her about this place? Is it the exhibitionism she craves, or maybe she wants to be the one of the voyeurs? Somehow that doesn’t sound like Sadie to me, but she did say I don’t know her, so maybe?

You wouldn’t let anyone see her like this even if she did like it.

My inner-Hawk has a fair point. She’s fucking mine. But I might let her watch someone else getting fucked.

I find the loud moans filling the air, the scent of sex, and the sounds of leather meeting flesh somewhat arousing. But it doesn’t hit me like it normally would. I feel more intrigued than turned on, which is just fucking weird. The more I see and hear, the more I can’t help but feel an emptiness in the pit of my stomach, like something’s missing.

Sadie.

A man wearing a tight-fitting black shirt, black cargo pants, and combat boots stops us at the bottom of the stairs leading to the office. He’s tall, broad shoulders, with sharp features and an ominous presence about him. There’s something in his eyes that says he’s not a man to be messed with. He’s the kind of man who takes orders, but I’m pretty fucking sure he gives them as well, which means he must hold some sort of rank. Since I’m not in the Mafia, I don’t know how their ranks work exactly, but the way people seem to move out of this guy’s way says they know he holds power over them. There’s something in the way he carries himself, how he takes in his environment and the details within it, that reminds me of Mack. If I had to guess, I’d say he’s one of their executioners. He just looks like he would enjoy it.

He greets Vincenzo first with a curt nod and a hug. “Sir.” Then he hugs Matteo with the same affection and familiarity. A mutual respect.

“Enzo,” Matteo greets with a smile. The man stands nearly a whole head taller than Matteo, well over six feet. “Good to see you. How’s your sister?”

“In her last year of college. Safe. Happy. Annoying as fuck. Just the way I like her,” he says matter-of-factly. Though his words make Matteo laugh, there’s no humor evident in Enzo’s expression whatsoever.

“Where’s your uncle? I need to speak with Marcello about a personal matter,” Vincenzo asks. Enzo crosses his arms over his chest, leaning back on his heels, assessing me.

“Who’s this? What business does this biker have with Uncle Marcello?” My lips tip up at the corner. Since I’m not wearing my cut and my club tattoo is covered by my shirt, there’s no way he could’ve guessed who I am. The asshole wants me to feel intimidated that he’s already run a check on me.

Cute.

“I’m here to check your security system. I hear the software is lacking.” I glance around the area and spot four cameras. Three of which are made to blend in as artwork and with some of the fixtures on the walls. “It’s not a bad setup, but pretty obvious to the trained eye. I can help with that.”

Enzo’s eyes narrow. “We’ve got it covered. Marcello is upstairs.” Enzo turns to two men in suits stationed behind him and gives a curt nod, then rumbles something in Italian. The two men nod. Vincenzo and Matteo chuckle beside me. Enzo nods to them both and walks off in the opposite direction, not giving me a second glance.

“What did that asshole say about me, Matteo?”

Matteo turns to me, smiling. “He told his men to let us through. He also said if he finds out you touched any of his equipment, he’ll strap them to the Saint Andrew’s Cross and open them up from neck to navel while their insides paint the carpets red.” My eyes widen and Matteo laughs harder. “The funny thing is, he’s serious. Enzo is quite the artist when it comes to his kills. He takes his time. Likes to play with his prey.”

“ Jesus ,” I mumble. “I thought this was a kink club.”

Matteo shrugs. “Don’t be a judgmental fuck. Blood and death might be Enzo’s kink. Don’t knock what you don’t know.”

“Was that … did you just tell a joke?” Matteo flips me the finger and I follow him up the stairs and into the office.

“Twice in a few short weeks, cousin. To what do I owe the pleasure?” A tall man who resembles Matteo moves around his desk and greets Matteo with a hug. When they release each other, his eyes land on me and he moves to hug Vincenzo, saying something in Italian too low to be heard. Vincenzo nods, slapping the man on the shoulder. “Is this the man who wants to be worthy of your Dolcezza?”

I grit my teeth at the man’s insinuation that Sadie is Matteo’s anything .

Vincenzo doesn’t give me any reprieve and joins in on the ribbing. “That remains to be seen, Marcello. Mr. Hawkins is in need of some training. Matteo thought perhaps one of your courses in being a Dominant, recognizing body language and the needs of a woman, would be helpful.”

“What man doesn’t know his woman’s body language? Are you blind, son?” Marcello tilts his head, assessing me.

“No. I read her body just fine. It’s her thoughts and emotions that seem to cloud shit up.”

“So, she doesn’t trust you,” Marcello says, smirking. “What did you do to break her trust? Lay with another woman? Run up a gambling debt? Side with the Feds?” His voice drops low, thick with accusation.

“ Marcello ,” Vincenzo warns.

Marcello throws his hand up. “Forgive me cousin, but word travels fast when your cousin’s men are attacked, and an undercover federal agent and her biker friend are shot and killed … and missing . Yet the man in question stands perfectly healthy and alive before me.”

“They’re not missing and only the federal agent was killed. She was a mole, working both sides … for Marco Cusenza .” Marcello’s eyes narrow. He turns his glare on Vincenzo as he continues to explain. “We have a plan in place to take him down and rid both our lives of the bastard.”

“Do you need assistance?” Marcello asks. “Is that why you’ve come here?”

“No.” Vicenzo smiles. “We’re here to teach this asshole how to give his woman what she craves. Do you have any openings in your class sessions for a beginner?” He sounds fucking happy to tell others of my shortcomings with Sadie.

“I’m sure we could squeeze him in somewhere. In the meantime, would you like to see her paperwork?” Marcello offers to me. “Everyone fills out their likes, dislikes, and interests prior to stepping foot out into the club. It’s a requirement. It also helps us to know what improvements need to be made to the business and helps us if there’s ever an incident.”

“You’ll just hand me her private records, without question?” I’m both elated and pissed that this man is willing to just hand over Sadie’s private information to a man he doesn’t know.

“My cousin says she’s your woman,” he states flatly. “Is she not?” He walks around his desk to his computer, taps on a few keys and prints out a four paged document.

“ She is .”

“Then you may have the information,” he says. “As her Dom, you will need this information. You’ll also need to fill one out on yourself for our records in order to process your membership and take the courses. It would be best if you could convince Miss Jenkins to take courses to help her better understand herself and her role as your submissive as well.”

“Why don’t you take a tour of the club while Vincenzo and I discuss family matters ?” Marcello nods toward the door of his office, effectively dismissing me.

“Come. I’ll show you around,” Matteo says softly. “Family business is?—”

“Like club business. I get it. I’m an outsider.”

Matteo nods his agreement.

I get the feeling Matteo’s offer to accompany me is not for my benefit, but more to keep tabs on me so I don’t purposely find a way to piss off Enzo. “All right, well, show me where they keep the whips and chains, my friend.”

Matteo shakes his head, but I see the smirk he’s trying to hide. Once we reach the bottom floor, Matteo is all business. The underboss is in full effect.

We walk through the main floor where there’s a dance floor and DJ. The room isn’t quite full. There are a few couples dancing and enjoying themselves, but it’s still early yet. The couples in here seem to all be fully clothed, though some of the dresses are short enough to give a good show as the women dance.

We reach the bar and Matteo orders us both a tumbler of whiskey. A woman with red hair and a spunky disposition wearing a name tag that says Chloe serves us our drinks with a wink and a smile. She doesn’t linger or make small talk. She drops our drinks off and moves to the next member.

“Chloe attends college with Enzo’s sister in Arlington. She’s young and full of energy. She makes a killing in tips most nights. One of the best Marcello has ever hired,” Matteo explains.

“It’s also a great way for Enzo to keep tabs on his sister, having her friend working here,” I observe. “He can pump Chloe for information when his sister’s not around. It’s fucking brilliant.”

“Yes, well, GPS trackers can only give you so much information. They don’t tell you who is at the location or what they’re doing while there,” Matteo says with a smirk. “Unless you’ve found a way to listen through Sadie’s phone and hear the conversations around her without her knowing.” He raises a brow, and I shrug.

“I’m sure there’s a way to do it, but I haven’t gone that far into my stalker-ish tendencies. Though, now that you mention it, I may need to do some digging when we get back home.”

We head through the door marked Dungeon and walk into a couple mid-scene.

There’s a woman strapped to a chair with her legs strapped down spread eagle in a set of movable stirrups, currently laid out wide and flat. She’s wearing a bra with small pink bows holding the fabric together over her nipples and panties to match.

“That’s what they call a leg spreader obedience chair,” Matteo informs me.

“Obedience?” I’m momentarily confused. “They use that for punishment? She doesn’t look upset about whatever she did from here.”

Matteo chuckles. “Have a seat. Watch.”

I sit down on the plush chair at the back of the small crowd that’s gathered, watching the demonstration. The woman in the obedience chair, as he called it, has her hands tied over the top of the chair, her elbows bent, and a gag in her mouth. Her breathing is labored, but she doesn’t seem to be in distress. Based on the flush of her cheeks, I’d say she’s pretty fucking turned on.

The man with her bends down, pulling something from a black duffle bag, then stands up beside her, talking softly to her. She nods at whatever he’s said. We watch as he unties the bow covering her right nipple and places a jeweled clamp on it. He then moves to the other side, giving her a matching pair. Her jaw clenches, but she doesn’t protest.

As he takes another item out of his duffle bag, he grabs her legs one at a time, bending her knees up closer to her torso, but doesn’t close them. He widens them until she says stop, then locks the stirrups in place. She’s now wide open, her panties so damp I can see it from here.

Her partner circles her body, giving light touches, here and there, but never where she is clearly anticipating. He pulls another object out from behind the chair, a long bar in the shape of a T, then walks around, hooking it into the front of the chair between her knees. When he steps back, we can see a large vibrator attached to the middle of the T. He then moves it closer, adjusting it to her center. She watches him, her eyes glazed.

He murmurs something to her again and again she nods, and the room fills with a loud buzzing noise. He unhooks the bow at her center and holds up a remote for the room to see, then we all watch as he makes the vibrator move forward and achieve penetration. The woman’s hips lift slightly as she squirms. Her breathing picks up, her body shakes, and just as she’s about to go over the edge, he raises the remote and hits the red button, powering it off.

Her eyes fly open, then narrow as she is clearly not pleased with his stopping her pleasure. Matteo chooses that moment to lean over and whisper, “That’s the punishment. Orgasm denial is a wonderful way to keep a woman obedient.”

“Yeah. I’m familiar with the practice, but I’ve never tried it on this level. Might need to borrow a furniture catalog from your cousin.”

The air in the room shifts, and I look over to see Marcello’s men are at the entrance of the Dungeon. Something is definitely wrong. Vincenzo and Marcello appear, waving for us to come over as they both continue rattling off orders in Italian. Marcello to his sons, and Vincenzo into his phone. A minute later, Enzo is standing beside Marcello looking, dare I say, excited .

“What’s happening? What’s wrong?” I ask Vincenzo. He doesn’t answer right away, listening to whoever is on the other end of his phone. “ What’s happening ?” I growl as a heaviness falls in the pit of my stomach.

“That was the guard from the penthouse lobby. Sadie’s been kidnapped.”