Frozen Savage (Cinder Crew: Mafia Fairytale Retellings)

1. One Gia

One: Gia

"Priscilla was supposed to be my fucking meal ticket, and now she's nothing but a goddamn corpse!" I struggled not to break the phone clutched in my white-knuckled grip. The Fairydust operation was crumbling, and my empire along with it. I’d only just taken over Arizona a few months ago, courtesy of John not trusting his hot-tempered son and this wasn’t a good start. The men already didn’t trust me, and now we were on the verge of bankrupcy.

"Find out who did this," I snarled into the phone. "I want their goddamn heads on a silver platter."

The voice on the other end stammered, promising to do everything in their power to uncover the truth. But it wasn't enough. I needed action, not empty promises.

As I slammed the phone down, my gaze locked onto Damien, who stood stoically by the door. His dark hair and serious expression were as familiar to me as my own reflection, and I knew he would do whatever it took to help me. He hadn’t failed me yet.

I signaled for him to come closer, and he approached with the same deadly grace that had made him my most trusted enforcer.

"Get Peter and the Lost Boys," I ordered, my voice cold and commanding. "I have a job for them. Gustav needs a new bitch. Calliope is close enough to Ella that she should be an easy replacement. It’s about time Peter earned his keep."

Damien nodded, understanding the gravity of the situation without needing me to spell it out. He knew what was at stake, and he would do everything in his power to ensure my empire didn't crumble to dust.

As he turned to leave, I couldn't help but feel a twinge of satisfaction. I was in control, and I would stop at nothing to keep it that way. I would find out who was responsible for Priscilla's death, and I would make them pay.

With a fierce determination coursing through my veins, I turned my attention back to the city beyond my window. It was mine, and I would do whatever it took to keep it that way.

I needed a fucking release. All this tension and nowhere for it to go.

My steps thumped against the stairs as I made my way to my room to change. Thank fuck John had set up a sex club as a secondary income stream. Easy way for him to find and funnel women when Priscilla couldn’t get them to her clients, but it was also an excellent playground for our more… deranged clients. The ones we didn’t need drawing attention to our dealings, but who we needed to keep under wraps. So, John had started the underground club and I’d expanded it. We had several in Arizona, all of which had, well, everything. Everything except the shit that would land me in prison.

The silk of my negligee clung to my skin as I slipped into it, the black lace barely covering my curves. I looked at myself in the mirror, admiring the way the fabric hugged my body, accentuating my assets. I was a woman who knew what she wanted, and tonight, I wanted to be in control.

I placed a sexy black mask over my eyes, obscuring my identity just enough from the club's patrons. It was a game I liked to play, keeping them guessing as to who the mysterious woman in the mask was. They could look, but they could never truly know me. The only ones who actually knew who I was were my employee’s, but the regular attendees could get bent. It was a club rule, after all. Masks preserved the integrity of my client's identities. Mine included.

I made my way down the grand staircase of my mansion, contemplating who would be there tonight. Fresh meat, I hoped. My old toys always got afraid after I exposed my… inner desires. My Audi R8 was waiting for me outside, its sleek black exterior gleaming in the moonlight. I slid into the driver's seat, the leather hugging me as I gripped the steering wheel.

As I drove towards my club, my anger simmered beneath the surface. Someone had dared to cross me, and I would not let it go unpunished. My mind raced with thoughts of revenge, imagining all the ways I could make them suffer.

I pulled up to the lot, the neon lights illuminating the night sky. The bouncer nodded as I approached, opening the door for me. The eyes of various dancers were on me as I walked in, their curiosity piqued, hoping I wouldn’t take their clients. For some of them, what they’d be paid tonight would be worth a year in wages. It was hard to stifle a chuckle. As if I’d ever be a submissive. No… I was a femdomme, through and through. I fucked men, not the other way around.

The club was alive with activity, the sounds of whips cracking and moans filling the air. The bartender slid me a whiskey neat as I sat and scanned the room, taking in the debauchery that surrounded me. The high-profiles were seated in their boxes, watching the scenes unfold before them. Drinks flowed freely, and drugs were openly consumed. Some came to watch. Some came to get dominated. Some came to destroy.

I took a sip of my whiskey, savoring the burn as it traveled down my throat. I was in my element here, surrounded by people who craved the same things I did. Power, control, and pleasure. Release.

As I surveyed the room, my eyes landed on a man sitting alone in a corner. He was wearing an all-black mask that covered his eyes and nose, leaving his mouth exposed. There was something about him that intrigued me, a darkness that matched my own.

I made my way towards him, my movements confident and purposeful. I could feel the tension building between us as I approached, a silent battle of dominance. I took a seat next to him, our eyes locked in a challenge.

"Who are you?" I asked, my voice low and seductive.

His chest rose and fell heavily, his eyes traveling over my body. "Someone who's been watching you," he replied.

I arched a brow, intrigued by his response. "And what do you want?"

He leaned in closer, his breath hot against my ear. "To play," he whispered.

I couldn't deny the thrill that ran through me at his words. I was a woman who loved a challenge, and this man was offering me just that. But I wasn't one to be played with, and I would make sure he knew that.

"I don't play games," I said, my voice firm. "But if you're looking for a dominant, I'm more than willing to oblige."

He chuckled; his eyes gleaming with amusement. "I'm not looking for a dominant, sweetheart. I'm looking for an equal."

I arched a brow, intrigued by his response. It wasn't often that someone dared to challenge me, and I found myself both excited and wary of what was to come.

"We'll see about that," I replied, a smirk playing on my lips.

The tension between us was palpable, the air thick with desire and power. I could feel the pull towards him, a magnetic force that I couldn't resist. But I was a woman who was used to being in control, and I wouldn't let myself be swayed so easily.

The stage beckoned and my hips swayed as I walked. I knew he was watching me, his eyes following my every move– heat that ignited a fire within me.

I climbed onto the stage, taking in the scene before me. A woman was bound and gagged, her body writhing in pleasure as a man flogged her. I could feel the energy in the room, the lust and desire that filled the air.

I took a deep breath, letting it fill my lungs. This was my world, and I was the queen of it. I would not be defeated, and I would not be controlled.

I picked up a whip, the leather cool against my skin. I let it fly, the crack echoing through the room. The crowd erupted in cheers; their eyes glued to the scene before them.

The air was thick with desire and power, the scent of sweat and sex hanging heavy in the atmosphere. I stood on the stage, my whip cracking through the air with a precision that sent shivers down my spine. The girl arched in front of me before slumping. The crowd before me was a sea of writhing bodies, their eyes glazed with lust.

I scanned the room, drinking it all in. These were the elite of the elite, the movers and shakers of the city who had come to indulge in their darkest fantasies. And I was the one who provided it all. It was intoxicating.

But out of them all, it was him who caught my eye. He was tall and muscular, his broad shoulders tapering down to a lean waist. His hair was jet black and cropped close to his scalp, piercing green eyes that seemed somehow dead and alive at the same time.

There was something about him that intrigued me, a sense of danger that sent a thrill racing through my veins. It wasn’t often someone met my gaze without flinching, yet there he was, watching me, hardly blinking. He raised his chin and smirked before turning and taking a shot.

I continued to whip the woman on the stage, my movements precise and controlled. But now I was bored. He wasn’t watching me anymore. I climbed down from the stage, trying to stifle a pout from the abrupt end to my exhibitionism. The crowd parted before me, their eyes following my every move with a mixture of fear and desire before the spell was broken and they returned to their activities.

As I approached him again, I could feel the tension between us building as his shoulders stiffened. He sensed me coming. He was also a predator, a man who was used to being in charge. But I was not one to be easily tamed. I was the queen of this world, and I would not be ruled by anyone.

I stopped in front of him, watching as he slowly turned to face me, our eyes locked in a silent battle of wills. I could see the curiosity in his gaze, the hunger that lay just beneath the surface. And I knew that he could see the same in me.

"Who the fuck are you?" I demanded, my voice low and husky.

He said nothing, his eyes never leaving mine. Instead, he reached out and took my hand, pulling me towards him. I could feel the heat radiating off his body, the raw power that lay just beneath the surface.

I wanted to devour him, to take him apart piece by piece.

"Do you really want an answer to that? What do you want… what exactly do you want?" he growled.

I smiled; a slow and wicked grin that made his eyes widen. "I want to play," I whisper back.

He smirked, his eyes glinting with amusement. "Careful what you wish for.” His hands trailed down my spine, cupping my ass underneath my negligee, playing with the barely-there underwear, the only barrier between my skin and his fingers.

I leaned in closer, my lips brushing against his ear. "I'm not afraid of you.”

He chuckled, a deep, rumbling sound that made my skin prickle before he pushed his fingers between my legs, forcing them upwards. The fabric of my underwear strained as he pushed into me. "You should be.”

I pulled back, my eyes meeting his, ignoring the fire that was building between my legs. He wouldn’t gain the upper hand. There was a challenge in his gaze, a dare that I can't resist. I should walk away; this man is dangerous. But I'm not one to back down from a challenge.

Fuck it all to hell. Stepping closer, my body pressed against his as I ground down on him. I could feel the hardness of his cock against my thigh, and a smile ghosts over my lips; he wants me just as much as I want him.

We stood there for a moment, locked in a silent battle. I can see the desire in his eyes, the need that's clawing at him. He wants to take me, to possess me.

I leaned in close, my lips brushing against his. "You want me," I whisper.

He growled, his hands gripping my hips. "Fuck yes," he says.

A wicked grin played across my lips, one that made his eyes widen. "Then come and get me," I turned and walked away.