11. Vegarro “Vega” Moretti #2
Despite the name, the doors of the club opened at noon, and the day shift had already started. It wasn’t crowded, but a few regulars occupied tables near the stages, nursing drinks and lusting after the dancers that swayed by.
The lunch crowd was quieter than the one we got at night.
There were no birthday parties, athletes throwing money into the air, or groups of women twerking more than the dancers.
The men scattered throughout the room watched in silence, sliding bills across the stages while the bartenders prepared drinks behind the long, illuminated bar.
A man I had never seen in the club before sat near one of the smaller stages, drunk enough to sway in his chair while holding a glass he didn’t need. He had been loud since we arrived, throwing crumpled bills and slurring comments at every dancer who passed him.
A thick dancer with deep brown skin and a long, braided ponytail worked one of the smaller platforms in a jeweled red two-piece. Another woman with caramel skin, blonde curls, and tattoos covering one thigh moved slowly around the pole on the main stage.
Elana was up there with her. She wore a black rhinestone set that barely covered anything, and her long dark hair fell down her back as she lowered herself into a split.
The few men sitting around the stage tossed bills toward her, but Elana’s attention wasn’t on them.
Her eyes were fixed on me. She rose slowly, arching her back before wrapping one leg around the pole.
The move was aimed in my direction, and the look she gave me made it clear she missed this dick.
I didn’t react. Elana and I had exchanged a few random, aloof text messages since I left her house that morning.
She would send something flirtatious, and I would answer hours later with two or three words.
Before Sonnet, I would’ve recognized Elana’s invitation for a round two and taken her up on it.
Now, my attention stayed somewhere else.
Elana rolled her hips around the pole while watching me, and I barely felt anything.
She was beautiful, naked, and making it obvious that I could have her again whenever I wanted, but my dick didn’t respond to her the way it should have.
Lately, it only got hard while I watched Sonnet through the cameras.
It happened when she paced the room in those tight little shorts and oversized t-shirt, when she bent over to inspect something, and even when she looked directly into a lens, when she found a camera, like she wanted to reach through it and hurt me.
Elana had already given me her body. Sonnet hadn’t given me so much as a willing touch, yet she occupied every sexual thought I had.
Wearing only a thong and lace bra, Elana couldn’t pull my attention away from a woman who wasn’t even in the room.
I had called Wise and Prodigy to the club as soon as I left Roman. The club was one of the few places where the three of us could meet without attracting attention. Everybody expected to see us there, and our security controlled every entrance, camera, and private room in the building.
Finally, I repeated myself. “Roman killed Donovan. He believes Sonnet saw it. Cameras caught her in the area. Cameras I assumed he had wiped clean after the murder.”
Prodigy’s usual half smile disappeared. “His own son?”
I nodded slowly.
Wise folded his arms across his chest. “Why’d he do some sick shit like that?”
“Donovan was making moves to take over.”
Prodigy let out a low whistle. “That’ll get a regular nigga killed, but it’s still surprising Roman would handle his own blood like that.”
“He did more than kill him,” I added. “He blamed the Bellamys, then used Donovan’s death to start a war.”
Wise stared at the table for several seconds as he put everything together.
“That’s why he wants Sonnet,” Wise replied. “He needs her dead. She’s the only one who knows his secret.”
The muscles in his jaw flexed. Roman hadn’t only lied to me. By using me, he had involved all three of us. Nobody separated one Street King from the others. Our enemies had learned that lesson years ago.
“So, what did you tell him?” Wise asked.
“I acted like I didn’t know anything and told him that I was still working on finding Sonnet. I made him think she most likely ran off when she noticed his goofy ass minions watching her.”
Prodigy frowned. “And what are you actually going to do?”
“Keep Sonnet.”
Wise studied me as though he expected the rest of the answer to make more sense. “Keeping her… alive?”
I shook my head. “No. I’m keeping her.”
Prodigy leaned forward. “You need to explain what the fuck that means.”
“It means she isn’t going to Roman.”
“We established that,” Wise replied. “Cosa significa tenerla? (What does keeping her mean?)”
I looked between the two men who knew me better than anyone alive. We had lied for one another, bled for one another, and buried problems together. There wasn’t much I could say that would make either of them question whether they stood beside me.
This might have been the first, though.
“I want her.”
“The woman you kidnapped?” Wise clarified.
I waved him off. “I know how she got there.”
Prodigy looked at Wise. “You can’t just keep her. She’s not a puppy.”
Wise sat back and looked at me. “You haven’t even known her two weeks.”
“I watched and studied her before I took her.”
“That is worse,” Prodigy said with a chuckle. “It’s literally worse.”
I ignored him. “I know enough about her.”
Wise shook his head slowly. “You know her schedule, where she works, and what food she orders. That isn’t knowing a woman.”
“I know she’s brave when she has every reason to be afraid.
I know she fights even when she knows she can’t win.
I know she notices everything, remembers everything, and refuses to make herself smaller because a man is stronger than her.
” Prodigy’s eyebrows rose as if he were impressed as I continued.
“She knew someone might be coming after her and still went to work every day. She has nobody protecting her, but she has survived her entire life without expecting anybody to save her. Roman wants to kill her because she knows he’s a lying, disloyal piece of shit.
I’m not handing her over so he can murder her just to protect his reputation. ”
Wise’s gaze remained fixed on me. “And the fact that you want her…”
“Makes me more certain that I’ll kill anybody who tries to take her.”
Prodigy leaned back with a raised brow. “Damn.”
The song changed, and Elana climbed to her feet onstage. She bent forward with her ass aimed directly toward our booth.
With an ass like that, I had to look. It was only right.
Elana caught me looking and smiled as she slowly rolled her hips.
Prodigy noticed the exchange and shook his head, but for once, he kept his commentary to himself.
Wise returned his attention to me and rubbed one hand over his beard. “Does she want you?”
“No.” I wasn’t going to lie to them or myself.
Prodigy gave a short laugh.
“She’s afraid of me,” I went on. “She thinks I might kill her, and she has every reason to hate me.”
“But you still want her?” Wise pressed.
“More every time she looks at me like she’s planning my death.”
“That sounds toxic as fuck,” Prodigy added.
“You’re in no position to say that shit.”
His expression changed, but he let the comment pass. Arielle was still a subject that could shift his mood without warning.
Wise looked toward the rain streaking the windows. “You understand what refusing Roman means.”
“We have to kill him.”
“And we have to succeed at killing him,” Wise emphasized. “Roman has already sent men after the Bellamys over a lie. Once he realizes you took the only person who can expose him, he’ll come after all of us. Blood is going to spill all over this fucking city.”
“I know.”
“Our businesses.”
“I know.” I leaned forward. “Roman made his choice when he involved me in a lie and sent me to deliver an innocent woman to her death. I’m making mine now.”
Wise held my gaze. He wasn’t trying to scare me. He was making sure emotion hadn’t stopped me from understanding the consequences.
It hadn’t. Sonnet’s life had become a line I refused to let Roman cross.
Prodigy exhaled and glanced at Wise. “Well, shit. I guess we have to kill Roman.”
Wise looked at him. “That easy?”
Prodigy shrugged. “He wants the girl.”
“That isn’t a reason.”
“He doesn’t need a reason. He’s our brother.”
Cousins by blood, brothers by every measure that mattered.
My phone vibrated against the small table sitting in front of us. I looked down at the notification and recognized the number. If I didn’t recognize the number, I still would have recognized the attitude in the tone of the words as Dior: Proof of life, nigga!
I chuckled at the text, went to the live feed of Sonnet walking weakly out of the bathroom, took a screenshot, and then sent it to him.
Suddenly, a sharp voice rose over the music from one of the smaller stages. “Get your hands off me!”
All three of us looked over.
The drunk guy had grabbed the dancer in the red rhinestone set by her wrist and tried to pull her into his lap. She twisted away, but he reached for her again, this time catching a handful of her ass.
Wise stood before security could reach them. He crossed the floor without hurrying.
The patron released the dancer as soon as he saw him coming.
“My bad,” the man slurred. “I was just having fun.”
Wise stopped beside the table. “She told you not to touch her.”
“I said my bad,” he drunkenly laughed.
“Put your hand on the table.”