Sins & Secrets (Sins 1)

Suddenly it’s starting to makes sense—the notes. I whirl around, glaring at him. “It was you, wasn’t it? You were the one doing it.”

“I’m not sure what you’re talking about,” he says coolly, but I detect a hint of puzzlement. “I’ve done a lot of things, Lola, so you’ll have to be more specific.”

My fingers hover near the gun strapped to my leg and hidden underneath my shorts. “You sent me the notes.”

“What notes?” he asks and I can’t tell whether he’s telling the truth or not. He seems lost, but I don’t know Reagan enough to know whether he’s a good liar or not. I’m guessing with the kind of business he’s running, he has to be.

“The one’s I’ve…” I trail off at his bafflement. “How did you find out about me?” I take a step or two closer to the desk, noting that his hand is inching toward his gun.

He shrugs. “I’ve actually known for a little while. Lola Anders, daughter of Larenze Anelli, one of the most powerful drug lord’s on the east coast.”

“But that’s the east coast,” I say, gripping the hem of my shorts, debating whether or not to take out my weapon or not. “And you have to be part of the drug world to know a lot about it, so tell me, how did you find out?” I dare another step closer to the desk. “Who told you?”

He picks up his gun and pulls the magazine out. “What kind of business do you think we’re running here?”

I hesitate. “A sex business.”

He chuckles under his breath as he puts the magazine back in. “That is one of many. It’s good to do multiple things you know. Makes the really bad stuff easier to hide.”

“So you’re saying you deal drugs.”

“Dealer is an understatement.” He sets the gun down and rises up from his chair. “I’m a lot more powerful than that.”

“In Glensdale, I highly doubt that,” I say condescendingly. “And besides, I search your last name and nothing came up.”

“Let me guess, you searched Nyjah’s last name which isn’t the same as mine.” He lets out a low laugh at the sight of my shocked expression, not with humor though. “Try searching Scadaelany.” He says it as if I’ll recognize it, but I don’t.

“Not ringing a bell,” I say, knowing it’s going to get under his skin. Men like him—men like my father—thrive on power and status.

His eyes narrow on me. “Just as much of a snob as your father.”

Suddenly the terrible situation because even worse because not only does he know my family but he knows my father. “You know my father?”

“Every drug and drug dealer in the country knows your father.” He stands with the gun in his hand and winds around the desk until he’s standing in front of me. He gets too close but I refuse to cower back and show weakness. “And everyone hates him as much as I do.” He raises the gun and traces the end up and down my cheek.

I finch, but still don’t move back, refusing to break eye contact. “What are you going to do to me?”

He lowers the gun to his side. “It’s not what I’m going to do to you, but what you’re going to do for me. Otherwise, I’m going to call up that lovely Dellefontes family who put that hit out on you and collect the reward being offered for that pretty little head of yours.”

I lift my hand to slap him, but he catches it in his fingers and squeezes tightly. “I’d watch it if I were you.” His fingertips press roughly against my hammering pulse. “You wouldn’t want to get on my bad side.”

God, if I could, I’d drop kick him straight between the legs, but he’s right. Right now, he has a lot of power over me—whether I live or die. And I know what I have to do even if I don’t want to.

“Fine, what do you want?” I ask through gritted teeth.

When he grins at me, I know that whatever he’s about to say is going to be bad.

Very, very, bad.

Chapter 7

Lola

I suck at escorting tonight. If it wasn’t for Reagan threaten me, I would have never gone out so quickly after the whole Tenner thing. But he threatens me to do that, with drugs, with a lot of things that I can’t even begin to think about yet. The guy practically owns me at the moment and I hate it. And if I don’t find a way out of it, incidents with Tenner are going to happen more and more.

I need to find a way to run.

Different scenarios play through my mind I sit at the dinner table, pretending that I’m interested in the client sitting across from me. But my dazzlingly charm is missing the mark badly and my whit is absent completely. Thankfully the guy eating dinner with me seems clueless about escorting services and probably thinks this is normally how escorts act.

“So what do we do next?” he asks, picking at the salad with his fork. His name is Elington, well at least that’s the name he gave when he called in.

I shrug, taking a bite of my chicken even though I’m not hungry. My eyes locked on him, my shoulders at just the right angle that he can see down the top of my dress—it’s the best move I can come up with right now. Make him seem like I’m paying attention to him, when I barely hear half the words he said. “What ever you want sweetie.” I always like to give the clients nicknames, one that fits their character. I could tell right away that Elington was the nervous and quiet kind, which led me to the term sweetie. Nice and simple, hoping that it will make the night nice and simple. But he does seem like the kind of guy who isn’t used to hanging out with half-dressed women who can bring a guy to an orgasm in thirty seconds so I have a feeling it’s going to take a lot of energy on my part to make this a great night, energy I don’t have.

“Well, what do you usually do... when… I mean after…” He scratches the back of his of his neck tensely while he glances around the restaurant for way longer than necessary. Finally, his gaze lands back on me and I can see his pulse throbbing in his neck, so damn nervous and strangely so am I. After all that’s happened, after the notes, Tenner, the person in boots, the woman who supposed looked like me, and now Reagan finding out who I am, I feel like a bundle of restlessness that doesn’t want to sit still.

“I mean, after the date part?” Elington says, letting out a anxious breath as he sets his fork on the plate. “What happens after we’re done eating?”

I give him the best seductive smile I can muster, but don’t turn on my sex appeal as hot as I usually do. “Like I said, we can do whatever you want. This is your night, sweetie.” I relax back in my chair, twirling a strand of my hair around my finger, my gaze still fastened on him. “But most of the time, this is when we’d go back to the room.”