30. Shaw
CHAPTER THIRTY
SHAW
Iopened the door to confront Jace. Dante’s stare burned into my back.
Ishi flanked him, the rigid set of her mouth cracking her usual composure. Her uncharacteristic distress only fed my fury.
Jace stood in the hall with split knuckles and a mottled, furious face.
The second attendant stepped forward. “Although there is an additional surcharge, perhaps a threesome would be an acceptable compromise.”
“No!” The word exploded from all three of us simultaneously, each horrified for different reasons.
She flinched at our vehemence and retreated a step.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Hardwin, but I need you to follow me,” Ishi said.
I blocked the threshold. “Please, Jace. I’m asking you as a friend not to do this.”
“Will you agree to stop seeing him?” Jace demanded.
My silence was answer enough.
“Maybe you’ll give this bastard up when you see him for the whore he is,” he continued.
I lunged for his throat. Ishi clamped a hand down on my shoulder and hauled me backward with force that defied her slight build.
I pulled against her hold. “I’ll never forgive you for this.”
Jace scoffed. “I’m doing this for your own good. Trust me, you’ll thank me later.”
Dante stepped up beside me. “It’s fine. We have unfinished business.” The vulnerability from moments ago had vanished from his face, replaced by an unnerving lethal calm.
Jace stiffened, but his sneer remained fixed. “I’m not afraid of you.”
“Then you’re even dumber than I thought.”
Ishi’s grip on me tightened. “Mr. Hardwin, please.”
I resisted her pull, staring at the casual cruelty settling over Dante’s features.
“Please, Jace,” I tried one last time. “Don’t do this.”
“Too late.” Jace pushed past me into the room. “Time to teach your boyfriend a lesson.”
The door closed between us with an ominous click.
Instead of taking me to the lobby, Ishi guided me down the hall to the fifth-floor VIP lounge. I let her drag me inside and dropped onto a black leather sofa, feeling sick from imagining what was happening in that bedroom.
She pressed a glass of water into my hands, which trembled so badly I almost spilled it.
“Can’t you stop this?” I asked. “Please.”
She shook her head. “No, sir. Nobody interferes when President Dragon handles matters personally.”
The phrasing carried a lethal weight in a place run by the Gennaro family.
I set the drink on the coffee table and buried my face in my hands. “This can’t be happening.”
The lounge door swung open. A tall man entered with a menacing air. Beside me, Ishi bowed her head, her gaze locked firmly on the floor. Her docile submission drained the blood from my face.
I recognized him from the news. Salvatore Gennaro, the man who had seized control of the city’s underground by eliminating the former Don and three rival families in a single bloody weekend.
I forced myself to stand. Staying seated might be interpreted as a fatal insult. Salvatore studied me, dissecting my reaction in a matter of seconds.
“Respectful,” he noted smoothly. “I appreciate that quality in a young man. It’s so rare these days.” His appraisal was entirely clinical, searching out points of physical and emotional vulnerability he could use against me.
“I’m not sure I understand, sir,” I managed, fighting the urge to look at Ishi for guidance. Looking away from Salvatore felt like a death wish.
“It seems your earlier rudeness was only a temporary lapse in behavior.” He offered me a thin smile. “That boy always brings out the animal in people. Makes them forget themselves.”
My throat tightened. “Boy?”
Without answering, he extended his right hand. “How careless of me. I’m Salvatore Gennaro, proprietor of this establishment. And Dante’s father.”
The words hit hard, but I mechanically accepted the handshake. His grip was dry and punishingly tight, designed to crush bone. I refused to give him the satisfaction of a wince.
Instead of lying about the pleasures and honor of meeting him, I chose a more tactful approach. “I apologize for the incident upstairs,” I said, extracting my hand.
Salvatore gestured to the sofa with the casual authority of a man who owned not only the furniture but everyone who sat on it. I obeyed, watching him settle into the opposite chair, crossing one leg over the other.
“You seem troubled by your friend’s reaction to my son.” He laced his fingers together. “A concern you believe warrants my attention.”
“Isn’t it a little late to ask my opinion now that you’ve already arranged their meeting?” It was the only way I could see that Jace had overcome the high cost of hiring Dante that was far out of his budget.
“Perhaps you’re privy to details about their history that worry you. Information that might persuade me to intervene.”
If I mentioned the incident with Melissa from high school, I would be admitting Dante had slept with an unapproved civilian. That felt like a fast track to getting him severely punished.
I opted for a safer explanation. “They’ve hated each other since high school.”
“Why?”
“Jace can’t stand losing to Dante. Dante excelled at academics, sports, and social standing. Jace never got over it.”
Salvatore’s expression filled with twisted pride.
“My boy has always been exceptional. Superior reflexes, remarkable retention, perfect recall. He masters anything he attempts. But you already know that, don’t you?
” He leaned forward slightly. “How quickly he learns what makes you weak, and what makes you beg.”
I fought to keep my expression neutral as Salvatore spoke about Dante with an unsettling blend of paternal pride and dark perversion. The way he described Dante’s abilities sounded less like a father praising his son and more like an owner admiring a prized possession’s performance.
“Your friend seems to have a temper. Are you worried he will harm my boy?”
“I’d like to think he’s smarter than that,” I replied. “But he’s impulsive and quick to anger.”
Salvatore chuckled softly. “Do you know what fascinates me about dragons?”
“No.”
“Their fangs are lethal, but their minds are far more deadly. My Dragon is the most lethal of them all. Wouldn’t you agree?”
The possessive way he said “my Dragon” made bile rise in my throat. “You’re saying Dante can handle himself?”
“Indeed.” Salvatore’s smile widened. “I personally ensured he mastered many arts. Some are quite specialized.”
The implication turned my stomach.
“As you’ve experienced firsthand,” he added, his gaze dropping to where Dante’s mark lay hidden beneath my shirt.
Pure outrage flared in my chest at hearing Dante discussed like livestock bred for duty.
Salvatore turned to Ishi, who had remained motionless throughout our exchange. “Leave us.”
She bowed lower. “Do you have any further orders for me regarding President Dragon, sir?”
“No. My boy can take care of himself. He knows the price of failure.”
She slipped from the room, leaving me alone with the monster who had shaped Dante’s life.
After the door closed, Salvatore discarded his polite, corporate facade.
“You need to understand that I crafted Dante into perfection. I trained him to anticipate desires before they’re spoken.
Taught him how every nerve in the human body responds to pain and touch.
I conditioned him to find pleasure in both domination and submission. ”
“You have no intention of stopping Jace and Dante, do you?”
“Why would I?” A cruel smile played at his lips. “Your concerns are noted but insufficient to justify interference in something I explicitly authorized.”
A low sound of disgust left my throat.
“Consider this your warning.” Salvatore rose to his full height, eclipsing the light from the overhead fixtures.
“Warning?” I repeated.
“You forget who owns this city. Every cop, judge, and politician with a taste for young flesh. This brothel is merely one jewel in my crown.” His gaze traveled down my body with invasive slowness. “The boy you’re foolish enough to have feelings for is my property.”
Survival instincts kept me still. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“No? You deny how your breath catches when he touches you, how your cock hardens when he speaks?” Salvatore sneered as he looked down at me. “I’m sure you moan his name when you jerk off alone in your bed at night.”
“You’re mistaken,” I insisted.
“Let’s test my theory. I will give you an hour with any worker here, free of charge. Take your pick. Prove to me that Dragon means nothing to you.”
The proposition made my skin crawl. “What would that prove?”
“That you understand the difference between Dragon, who works for me, and Dante, who belongs to me. It’s a distinction you seem dangerously close to forgetting.”
I tried to pull away. “No, sir. It’s not like that.”
“Liar. I’ve killed men for less deception than what I see in your face right now.”
“What difference do my feelings make when all Dante cares about is money?”
Salvatore lowered his hand to the soft expanse of my neck in a deadly caress. “Perhaps there’s another solution to our problem.”
“There is?”
“Join us at Gennaro Corporation.” His thumb caressed my Adam’s apple with threatening gentleness. “Work alongside Dante under my personal supervision.”
A job offer was the last thing I’d expected. “What?”
“You have a certain innocence of the boy next door, which is an underserved demographic here.” His fingers flexed, not quite restricting my breathing but showing how easily he could. “I’d train you personally. It’s an honor I only bestow on my most valuable acquisitions.”
The implication of what Dante must have endured under his “training” made fury burn through my veins. I trembled with the effort of restraint, knowing any outburst might get him punished. “I appreciate the offer, but I must respectfully decline.”
“Then we’re finished here.”
I stood on shaky legs, desperate to escape. “Yes, sir.”
“Understand that there won’t be another warning.” His voice hardened. “Cross me again, and you won’t return.”
“Or else?” The question slipped out.
“There is no ‘or else,’ as you say. There is only obedience or obliteration. Choose wisely.”
I turned to leave, but he seized my wrist. He used it to yank me against his chest, one arm locking around my waist like a vise.
His fingers slid under my shirt, finding Dante’s mark.
He pressed down hard over the bruise. “If I ever find evidence of this occurring outside these walls, my son will suffer in ways that would haunt your worst nightmares. The torments I’ve inflicted on him before will seem merciful compared to what awaits him should you defy me. Understood?”
I gave a stiff, jerky nod.
“Not even your sizable trust fund can afford the privilege of falling in love with him.” He shoved me back toward the door.
“Dare to be that stupid, and my offer to work for me becomes forced employment. As your new owner, I’ll have you servicing clients whose appetites demand more blood than cum on the sheets, who find their arousal in your agony, and climax only when your screams give way to broken sobs. ”
My legs almost buckled as the full implication of his words crashed over me.
The clinical way he described my torture made it worse, as if he was reciting a business plan rather than threatening to destroy me.
I could picture myself strapped down, bleeding, begging for mercy from faceless investors who’d paid for the privilege of breaking me.
Except he wasn’t outing a hypothetical threat for my future. He was describing Dante’s daily reality. Salvatore laughed as he walked away, the satisfied amusement of a devil who’d broken countless souls and considered it good business.
Dante hadn’t chosen to work at Gennaro Corporation. He was a prisoner of a heinous monster.
And I had no idea how to save him.