Page 41 of Play Dirty (Villalargos University #1)

Chapter Thirty - Four

Shiloh

T he doors slide open at the club – silent and expectant, like they've been waiting for me. No one stops me; no one questions me as I walk inside. They all know why I’m here. Why are they all here tonight?

I descend the staircase slowly, and the memory of Nico on his knees comes to the forefront of my mind.

Each step echoes in my ears like a countdown, and my hands clutch onto the small bag that contains everything I’ll need.

It’s not only the club that can play dirty — I can too.

The mask clings to my skin, the black silk dress trails behind me like ink in water.

It’s cold, not from the blaring AC, but the kind that lives within these walls.

At the base of the staircase is a velvet draped hall, a woman with red wine dark lips that I recognize as Ms. Medina hands me a keycard.

I try not to look too hard, and she doesn’t even look my way as she says. “Down the hall. Room ten.”

She doesn't even blink. The warmth I've come to know— gone.

I push the door open and walk into hell. The room smells like money and rot. Leather furniture creaks from the brutal grinding. The aroma of whiskey and sweat fills the space. Laughter slithers through the candlelit haze – slow and indulgent, like the joke is on the world.

So many of my friends' parents hide behind their masks. The donors.

For a sec ond, I find myself looking for my dad and feel relieved when I don’t find him. My gaze locks on Ezra, who has two of the new girls hanging off him. His father gropes on them while smoking a cigar, laughing. By the look on E’s face, the joke has gone over his head.

Some of the girls are on the masked men’s laps, and one of the new players is chained to a leash held by another donor as he licks white powder from a table.

Another girl cries into her champagne as greedy hands fondle her cunt.

Disgust rolls through me, but nothing beats the shock of finding Zayden.

He is on his knees, with Thiago’s cock deep in his mouth.

My hand shoots to my mouth to stop myself from screaming.

His head bobs between Thiago’s thighs, whose shirt is unbuttoned, and his hand is gripping the edge of the leather armrest. His head is thrown back, jaw clenched like he’s trying to pretend he’s not there. But he is.

God, he so is.

His head lifts for a second, and I see the flicker of sadness and reverence— his features softening as he takes in Zayden’s face. His hands tremble at his thighs, his eyes hidden behind the mask as he gags on T.

My breath catches as the corruption sinks in… it’s everyone. I know it shouldn’t shock me to see the true depravity, but it does. Nothing prepared me for what I was walking into. The only thing I’m grateful for is that Nico isn’t here being used. I linger for a moment, just as Zayden looks up.

Our eyes meet.

I look away, but deep inside I know he saw me too.

The room doesn’t change, the donors continue to laugh. Thiago doesn't move; he's too focused on the man kneeling before him. Zayden just stares as I walk past them to where Brad waits.

By the fireplace an d alone, he’s watching me like a spider does a fly. He raises a glass, his eyes flicking between my bare shoulders and the dark hall I just emerged from. “You saw, didn’t you?” He purrs, pushing back his dirty blonde tendrils.

I stop a few feet from him, and I don’t respond. I just watch as he takes a slow sip. “It’s always worse when it's someone you almost trusted. That’s the whole point of this place.” He uses his hand to make a gathering gesture. “You break them and build them to serve.”

He steps forward, slipping a hand behind my neck, and I still.

“You ready to serve me, baby doll?”

I bite the inside of my cheek, hard enough to cause me to wince and for blood to flow into my mouth.

I clutch my bag tighter, trying not to appear too disgusted as he draws closer and inhales my skin.

“I’ve wanted you for so long.” He groans into my neck, before I feel the warmth of his tongue trailing up my cheek.

I flinch. Trying to hold back the urge to vomit. He smiles at me, “So quiet for someone who wants answers,” he murmurs. “Almost makes you prettier.”

Thankfully, he pulls away, allowing me to compose myself, breathing in fresh oxygen that doesn’t smell like him.

He stands by the couch and then pats a spot.

I sit. My palms press into the velvet like I can anchor myself…

the door remains open, and for a moment, it feels like safety when he pulls away.

Then the sound of the door closing and the lock clicking in place makes my entire body quiver.

He steps closer, leaning into my ear. “You want answers, baby doll? Or do you just want to be ruined?”

My heart pounds, realizing I didn’t really think this through.

“Were you seeing June?”

He sips his drink, smirking. “If you mean fucking, yes. June was cute. Clever too. Sometimes even too clever for her own good.”

My blood runs cold. “What do you mean?”

He tilts his head to the side, amused by my discomfort. “Women.” He shakes his head. “Always thinking they are saviors, playing with fire, and then being shocked when it burns.” He licks his lips. “What is it that you really wanna know?”

“Why did you do it?” I rip off the bandage, praying he says enough to incriminate himself and that he doesn’t notice what’s inside my bag. I just need a confession. Anything. He laughs, clapping his hand. “She found some tapes, didn’t like what she saw, and thought she could blackmail me.”

His fingers trail down my cheek as I glare at him. My body revolts against his touch. “So you killed her?”

I keep breathing. One inhale at a time, trying to stop myself from fainting.

“I didn’t kill her.” Brad finally says after an excruciating pause. “She just got… in the way.”

“Of what?” I hiss through clenched teeth.

“Of everything. Of Velarium. Of Nico. Of your daddy.” His eyes were nothing but emotionless voids of despair. “Of me.”

He sits beside me, his hand snaking around my thigh.

I don’t flinch. I don’t blink. I just keep breathing.

If I throw up now, scream, or show any hint of disgust, it’s over, and I need him to confess.

June died for this, maybe Asher too. I don’t know, but I’m certain Nico’s hands aren’t stained with their blood.

And he shouldn’t pay for the sins of others.

Even if I have to be the one who bleeds for the truth this time.

“You know what the real secret of Velarium is?” He whispers, lips brushing my jaw. “It’s not about power. It’s about proof. Every room here has eyes. Every favor recorded. No one walks away clean.” He grips my chin. “ We all bleed or we take. Shi, which one are you?”

Then he lunges for a kiss, and I turn away the best I can, but he bites down on my cheek. His fingers dig inside my mouth. I twist away, but his body is already over mine. The more I fight, the harder he gets. “I always knew you’d break so beautifully.”

His belt unbuckles, and I thrash beneath him. I’m not his, only Nico’s.

I scream, even as his fingers continue to force their way into my throat. “ZAYDEN!” I shout. Brad laughs. “THIAGO!” I shout again, and he laughs harder.

“They can’t hear you.”

But then the door slams open.

Zayden.

He comes into view, crashing into Brad like a wrecking ball, sending them both to the floor.

Brad shouts, but Thiago steps inside and locks the door, just as Zayden lands punch after punch.

The sound of bone meeting bone cracks through the low music.

I scramble back, my dress torn and my heart beating out of my chest.

Brad gasps under the weight of Zayden’s rage. There’s a knock on the door, but that doesn’t stop Z. The door opens, and Wyatt emerges with a grin on his face. His eyes are locked on me as he moves towards Zayden, who just continues to beat the living shit out of Brad.

“He killed June.” I choke out. “He killed June.”

“You sick piece of shit.” Thiago snaps, kicking him in the face. Over and over until Brad goes limp beneath Zayden. Wyatt tucks his arms beneath Thiago and pulls him towards him. “It’s done. It’s done.”

But Thiago is beyond reason. “Is my dad here?” They all look at me, wondering if they should reply, but I don’t wait.

Rising from the couch, I let the memory of Nico guide me, bringing me straight towards the red door that hides Daddy Dearest’s depravity.

The door is cracked. For a second. I contemplate stepping away, but I push back the urge and storm inside.

My dad sits in the corner of the bed, as one of the petals pleases him.

The blonde girl I recognize from the hunt and dinner.

There was a time when I thoug ht my daddy could do no wrong.

He did nothing but dote on me, spoil me rotten like any dad would for his little girl.

But the truth is dark and bitter to swallow.

I’m nothing but an investment. Now I see him for the monster he is– the one who strung up Nico like prey and called it charity.

“Shiloh.” My dad snaps, trying to hide the evidence of his cock inside her mouth. She scrambles back in tears as I step between them, not caring that my father is naked just inches away. I don’t look away.

My eyes clash with those emotionless sapphire eyes. “Resign.”

He chuckles nervously as I pull out my phone and navigate through apps until I find exactly what I need. “Resign and help Nico. If not, the world will know who you are.” My dad's face reddens from anger.

“You wouldn’t dare.” He hisses. I feel the grin stretching across my face.

As I hit play, the sound of Nico crying echoes from the phone speaker.

A gasp. Then silence. Nothing but skin slapping harshly against his—“You take it so well.” My father coos through the speaker as I bite down into my cheek, choking back the acid clawing up my throat. Swallowing the pain.

I don’t flinch. Nico deserves someone to see him. Truly bear the weight of his pain. But my father doesn’t. His face collapses inward like a dying star. I have never seen something so pathetic.

“Shiloh, you cannot do this.” He breathes, running a shaky hand down his sweating face. His white skin stained red, his blue eyes still cold. “There’s more to it than just that tape. You can’t do what you’re thinking.”

“Try me, I am your daughter after all. A Johnson.”

We face off for what feels like an eternity. His nose flares, but I don’t back down. Not even as Daddy’s face turns an entirely different shade of crimson, and his cobalt eyes are bloodshot and bulging from his skull.

He’s furious.

Good, so am I. “Get Nico out of jail and stay the fuck away from him. And me.”

This time, my father doesn’t look at me but Zayden and Thiago who remain leaning against the door.

Hiding from the shame— this didn’t expose only Nico and my father, but them.

No one ever walks away from Villalargos clean, but I will be the one who does.

I guess this is what happens when a daughter becomes her father’s reckoning, and I just became his.