Page 2 of Immoral (Park Avenue Kings #3)

DIMITRI

“ W E HAVE TO move quickly if we want to?—”

I held my hand up, cutting off Caesar’s words as the performer who’d just given me a private show took to the stage again to wrap things up.

Whoever he was, he was mesmerizing. Even though the club offered up some of the most beautiful, talented dancers for patrons to admire, it wasn’t often that one caught my attention.

The man bent down to grab hold of his cape, giving one last look at his perfect, plump ass before it was covered up. Then he turned around, locked eyes with me, and began to spin his G-string around his finger.

I hadn’t even seen him take it off, the sly minx.

Like he knew, he shot me a wink and tossed the G-string off the stage, and the room went pitch black.

All around me erupted cheers from thoroughly entertained club guests, but I sat there in stillness until the lights came back up.

“Like I was saying, I think we need to—” Caesar started again, but I cut him off with a glance and gestured to one of my bodyguards nearby.

“Get it.”Without a word, he headed off, and I turned back to Caesar. “Go ahead.”

My treasurer leaned across the table. “We need to wrap these deals up before another arms dealer comes sniffing around our territories. I think you need to get on the road sooner than later to meet with?—”

“I don’t recall paying you to think strategy. You just worry about the money when I bring it back to you,” I said, reaching for the bottle of whiskey and pouring another finger into my glass. I took a sip and settled back into the leather lounge chair.

Caesar’s face fell and he looked to Omar, my second-in-command. “But there are rumblings that the Redwater Syndicate is trying to push back against his leadership.”

The bodyguard returned to my side and handed me the dancer’s discarded G-string, and I fingered the gem-covered material before slipping it into my pants pocket.

“He’s not your boss,” I snapped, and Caesar’s face flushed under the lights from the next performer. “I am. And if someone has a problem with my leadership, let them say it to my face.”

Caesar’s eyes shifted to the jagged slash running up the left side of my cheek, and the message was loud and clear: Want to end up like the last person who doubted my ability to steer this ship? He may have landed a blow, but I was the one who’d ended up at the fucking helm.

“Of course.” Caesar swallowed. “I didn’t mean anything by?—”

“Stop talking,” I said, and turned my attention to Omar. “Is everything set up for next week?”

“It is. The gala is next Friday; you fly out Saturday. All prospective buyers have agreed to a face-to-face, and I’ll send word of time and location upon our arrival.”

“Good.” I leaned back in my seat and ran a finger around the rim of my glass, running over everything I needed to get squared away between now and next week.

There were a lot of variables when one was about to broker a deal, or several deals, as large as I was about to, and I needed to make sure everything was in order.

Including my fucking men.

“It’s important we secure these deals,” I said. “Establish that I’m still the top supplier in the market. I’m not about to be run out because some wannabe crew thinks they’re about to encroach on my business.”

“Understood.” Omar looked to Caesar and gestured for him to get up. “If I get a hint that anyone is talking shit, they’ll be dealt with?—”

“By me,” I added, and Omar nodded.

It was clear that the only way I was going to gain respect from my men was to stand up and fight for the position I claimed I deserved. Plus, what self-respecting leader would send someone else to do their dirty work?

“Right.” Omar shoved Caesar through the tables, about to leave. But then he stopped and asked, “Anything else you needed tonight, boss?”

I looked to the stage and had a flash of supple skin, sparkling gems, and a flirty wink, and was close to requesting that a certain dancer be brought to my room. But I had too much to do tonight, and shook my head.“No. I’ll be leaving soon enough.”

Omar and Caesar exited the club, leaving me to my drinks and dancers, while my bodyguards stood off to the side, watching over the patrons.

I always thought it was an interesting dichotomy, for the biggest underground arms dealer in the world to require bodyguards to keep himself alive. Then again, it was nice having a set of eyes at the back and sides of my head, since many would like to put a bullet through it.

One of the downsides of the new position I now found myself in. Maybe if my predecessor had been less sure of his own invincibility, he might still be alive today.

No. That was a lie. He would’ve died no matter how many people stood in my way.

I pulled my phone from my inside jacket pocket and looked at the time. It was closing in on one a.m. and while I enjoyed a late night out, I hadn’t been sleeping much the past week.

Despite what I’d told my men, I was well aware that there were people talking about the new head of the organization, and how I’d come to power.

It’d been bound to happen. After decades of rule under one man, you weren’t going to win everyone over just by telling them you were in charge.

They were going to need proof that you were capable of not only supplying the goods they were after, but of keeping in line the kind of clientele who dealt in the darker shadows.

I knew I could do it; I was more than capable. Now I just had to prove it.

I took another swallow of whiskey and refocused my attention on the stage for the few minutes of pleasure I’d allow myself tonight.

But the dancer currently making eyes at the crowd didn’t make my cock stir, not the way the dark-headed one with the sultry mouth had.

He’d been a surprise, one I hadn’t seen in the club before.

The scrap of material he’d been wearing burned a hole through my pocket, and the ties on the corset he’d left behind made my hands itch to touch, but I wouldn’t let temptation override my plans.

I hadn’t gotten this far by letting my dick take charge.

A familiar face entered my periphery, and I nodded, allowing the club manager to slide by the bodyguards and approach.

The forced but polite smile and the edge of fear in his eyes told me just how uncomfortable he was in my presence, like he expected me to lash out at any moment, the way my predecessor had.

Not my style.

“Everything is to your liking this evening, I trust?”

I threw back the rest of my whiskey, my eyes drifting back to the stage. “And if I say no?”

I could feel his instant panic and couldn’t help but smirk.

“Relax. All is well.”

He didn’t seem to heed the message, remaining tense and on alert. “Can I bring you another bottle?” he said, gesturing to the empty one on the table.

“No.”

Drumming my fingers along the arm of the chair, I waited as the next performer took the stage, but when the man’s hood came down, it wasn’t the one I was hoping to see again.

The manager must’ve heard my sigh, because he cleared his throat. “Are you…satisfied with the dancers this evening?”

Lights reflected off the performer’s dark, oiled-down skin as he lowered into a split and ripped off his skirt. “They’re fine,” I said.

“Perhaps there’s one who caught your eye that could entertain you? Or two? Three? However many you’d like.”

I turned to the manager and cocked my head. “There is something I would like.”

“Of course. Anything.”

Reaching into my pocket, I pulled out the G-string and held it up with the tip of my finger. “The one who wore this. I want him at my gala next week.”

He hesitantly reached for the thong, but I balled it in my fist and shoved it back in my pocket.

“Uh, I’m not sure which of the dancers that belonged to?—”

“The new guy.”

“Benoit?”

“Have him at my place.”

“Consider it done.” He lowered his head in a bow that I didn’t acknowledge as I continued mindlessly watching the show.

Tonight wouldn’t be the night to indulge in my baser desires, no. But I was used to biding my time, waiting for the right moment, the right person, the right opportunity. This would be no different.

Friday, Benoit would be mine.