Chapter 2
Cassie
My name is Cassie Lark. I’m a good girl. I follow the rules. I never stray.
Until now.
And on this day I was Dahlia, the Black Dahlia to be exact.
While I’d planned this moment for almost three months, I’d remained determined not to be attracted to my mark.
But everything had changed the moment I’d been brought before him like a prized doll.
Alexander Durante was captivating, his commanding actions nothing like I’d expected.
Mysterious.
Alluring.
Handsome.
The three words categorized the horrible man perfectly.
He wasn’t the monster I’d prepared myself for seeing.
There was a level of polish exuding from every pore.
He was suave and sophisticated, a truly powerful man.
He radiated sensuality in every movement, and his deep baritone was almost as exciting as the way he handled himself. He was domination personified.
Why did that attract me? I’d never looked twice at a man like him, let alone a ruthless killer.
Except I’d almost met him once before and had thought of him far too often.
He wouldn’t remember. A monster like him would never recall a moment that had meant something to me.
I was thirteen at the time, my existence barely acknowledged, but I’d never forget the butterflies swarming my stomach or the lightheadedness I’d felt.
But this bastard hadn’t registered my existence.
Instead, he’d issued a threat, horrible words said during a heated exchange, but I’d known then that he’d make good on his murderous promises.
I’d hidden away after that, catching glimpses a few additional times until my mother had banished him from our property at gunpoint. I would never forget that day.
The day a portion of my world crumbled away, falling into a deep abyss. Maybe that had been the moment I’d promised myself that I’d get even with the men who’d taken something precious from me.
I’d studied him extensively, gleaning everything I could from my internet searches. He was articulate, highly intelligent, and likely the most cunning man I’d met. The fact that I was attracted to him pissed me off, but at least that could provide some assistance with what I was about to attempt.
Vow…
Remember.
I took a deep breath, returning to my Dahlia persona, a limited protection easing some of the butterflies in my stomach.
And I couldn’t believe I’d tossed a drink in his face, but it had allowed me to be singled out, which is exactly what I’d needed in order to act on my plan of revenge.
“Get your slimy hands off me!” I knew struggling with the brute who’d dragged me toward one of the ‘special’ rooms wasn’t going to do me any good, but I did what I could even though I kept my voice low.
The muscular bouncer didn’t say a word as he dragged me down a long hallway, making a sharp turn to the right. I knew the area.
All the girls did, especially the dancers.
Most of them had taken a turn or two inside one of the private suites, every room designed with a treat for the members in mind.
But each room had nothing to do with the kind of fun normal people longed to add into their lives.
The tastes of the wealthy, powerful men were twisted, sick in every kind of way.
At least the women who’d participated in accepting special invitations had been paid well. While I’d only been working in the toxic establishment for two weeks, I’d seen enough repulsive events to keep my blood curdling.
Vow. Remember your vow. Tonight you’re Dahlia. This is what you’ve been waiting for, planning for.
While my inner voice was correct, that didn’t reduce the number of butterflies swarming in my stomach or eliminate the tic in the corner of my mouth. I had to get my shit together or my cover would be blown.
The second the beefy bouncer opened a door, he tossed me inside, lingering in the doorway.
I almost lost my footing from his forceful shove, stumbling forward on my stiletto boots.
Then I took a deep breath, rising to my full height.
At least in the thigh-high leather I stood over six feet tall.
I shored my shoulders and twisted my head so I could glare into the fucker’s eyes.
The smile he wore was just as disgusting as the three hundred pounds of him.
“Don’t try to get out. There is no way. Be a good girl for Mr. Durante and you will be rewarded. He usually never tastes the merchandise. You should feel honored.”
With that, he slammed and locked the door. Was I supposed to feel excited that I’d been chosen by a brutal, heartless killer to become his flavor of the month? I sucked in my breath, finally daring to look around the room.
I’d been given a short tour of the facility after I was hired, but never shown inside one of the rooms. The manager, craggy-faced Paul, had made certain I knew the guest suites were completely off limits unless invited.
I’d turned down several of those very special invitations, which angered not only management but several of the members.
But I wasn’t here to pad my bank account or develop another earnings source. I was here to keep a promise.
I took a deep breath, trying to control my rapidly beating heart as I walked around the room.
I almost laughed at the décor alone. Everything was in red, deep red, the color of blood.
The walls. The tile floor. The sconces. The erotic artworks adorning the walls were all based in crimson or scarlet depictions of couples, framed in gold.
Even the couches, while plush and obviously expensive, were red velvet, the design emulating the twenties, with gilded frames, pillows with tassels seemingly tossed around—yet I knew they’d been strategically placed.
There was a small bar in the back of the room, although management discouraged use of alcohol while in session in one of the private rooms. While the rules of the private club were clear, I doubted anyone paying the hefty yearly fee was required to follow them.
Nothing about the room itself bothered me.
The apparatuses located along the entire length of one wall did.
I’d been sheltered most of my life, a simple girl who’d been forced into learning skills I’d never dreamed of.
And I’d become an expert in many of them, including several forms of martial arts and weaponry, including crossbows and even the effect of poisons on the human body.
That had taken me months of training and researching, immersing myself into an entirely different lifestyle.
I’d honed my muscles as well as my mind in preparation of exacting my code of revenge.
But as I stood here today staring at expensive wood and steel, crosses and benches, tables and other items that I’d never seen before and hadn’t shown up on my research, I realized I was possibly in over my head. However, there was no turning back. Not now.
Not ever.
I came here to do a job and that’s exactly what I was going to do.
On the day my savings account had blown up by a deposit I hadn’t expected or hadn’t earned, I’d been driven into utter darkness. It was blood money and nothing more. At least I’d been able to use a small portion to act on my plan.
After tonight, I’d be in the wind.
Or dead.
Time ticked by, my anxiety increasing. A man like Alexander Durante always took what he wanted.
Now he was making me wait, adding to what he hoped was sick anticipation and even fear of the powerful man.
I’d researched him for months, learning as much about the cold, merciless killer as possible.
What I hadn’t expected was how electrifying the experience of meeting him would be.
Even now, my nipples remained hard just thinking about him.
He was gorgeous, the kind of man who should grace fashion magazines.
He was rugged, every muscle sculpted from the finest stone.
Even more impressive was the way he carried himself.
He owned every room he walked into within two seconds.
He didn’t have to brandish a weapon or raise his voice. He simply… arrived.
Another five then ten minutes passed and still he hadn’t shown.
How long did the fucker think he was keeping me locked away?
Until the club closed? I hadn’t thought about that possibility.
What if he’d discovered who I was? I bit my lower lip, shoving away the trepidation and increasing fear. Remember, you’re Dahlia.
The moment I heard the lock disengaging, I took another deep breath.
This time, the echo was nonexistent. A smile crossed my face and I ignored whoever was entering the room.
As soon as the person walked inside, there was no mistaking his identity.
His exotic scent, one full of testosterone and the combination of exotic spices and freshly cut timber gave him away.
Alexander said nothing as he closed the door, the lock refastened. Then he advanced, but he left a significant distance between us. I shifted slightly, ensuring I could ascertain what he had planned, even though I refused to look at him directly.
After a few seconds of silence, I heard him ease onto one of the chairs or couches in the room, watching me. I didn’t have to ask to know what he was thinking or planning.
He wanted to break me.
All men like him did.
It was as if lording their sexual prowess over women gave them an advantage, another notch on the powerful totem pole, every man seeking Top Dog status.
I continued to ignore him, opening one of the cabinets and brushing my fingers down several of the canes.
The lump remained in my throat, but I was able to breathe easily. I knew what almost every implement was.
Almost.
However, seeing the bullwhips coiled on a thick steel rod did provide more than a few seconds of angst. I wasn’t into pain.
There was no threshold I could fall back on.
If he used one of those on me, I might lose my cool, exposing my real identity.
Dear God. That couldn’t happen. I recoiled and I knew the instant I did, he’d noticed.
A slight chuckle oozed from his rosy, red lips, the sound dark and ominous, but one full of seduction. “You are a fascinating woman, Dahlia. More so than most. Why don’t you come and join me?” His words weren’t a question but were a demand, an order he required to be followed.
I continued to ignore him, moving to one of the benches and doing everything I could not to show any reaction.
The leather straps attached to the slats were thick, preventing any movement.
I was lightheaded, uncertain I could go through with what I had planned.
And I had to. I just had to do this. There was no other way of getting close to the man.
“Dahlia. I’m not going to ask you again. Join me or you will not like the consequences.”
I still counted to ten before I turned around to face him.
He’d removed his jacket, his white shirt drawing my attention.
It remained wet from the drink, which forced me to bite back a smile.
I’d seen him on the first day I’d started training, wearing an almost identical charcoal gray suit and crisp white shirt, his choice of bold ties making a statement.
There wasn’t a single person in the club who didn’t understand that he was the man in charge.
He’d rolled up his sleeves, unfastening several buttons on the front of his shirt, both actions exposing his muscular arms and chest. As he leaned against the couch, he appeared comfortable in his own skin, one arm tossed over the back, the other holding a drink.
His legs were wide open and even from where I stood, I could tell he was fully aroused, the hefty ridge of his cock pressing against his expensive trousers.
I should be repulsed, but I was drawn to his chiseled face and strong jaw.
He’d exposed a single tattoo on his forearm, the colorful ink the design I remembered, as I’d dreamed about it more than once.
He was different from the person I’d met years before, more self-assured. He commanded an army now when he’d only directed a pack of boys before. It was obvious he believed he was a god.
The colorful tattoo was the same one that haunted my dreams, preventing me from getting a good night’s sleep for almost a year. And he wore it proudly, announcing his former membership into an elite club as if wearing a badge of honor.
The Wild Boys.
The dragon with piercing red eyes highlighted pure elitism and sanctimonious power. I couldn’t seem to take my eyes off it, the same tic forming in the corner of my mouth but this time out of rage.
He followed my gaze, smirking when he realized what I was staring at.
“A sign of power,” he mused.
“Or of weakness.” I was more daring than I should be, but at this point, I had little to lose.
Other than your life.
“Come here,” he ordered, the deep baritone even sexier than before, the tone dripping with lust. He studied me intently, taking several sips of his drink.
I wanted to get this over with, so I obeyed him, moving forward until I was only a few inches away from the coffee table. I stood with my feet apart, swaying my hips back and forth. He seemed amused.
When he unexpectedly jerked to the edge of the couch, I jumped involuntarily. He lifted an eyebrow as he studied me.
“Are you frightened of me, Dahlia?”
“I’m not frightened of anyone.”
“You should be very frightened of me.” He was doing everything he could to increase my anxiety, rolling the crystal glass from one hand to the other.
He had long fingers, the black onyx ring he wore a piece he’d had for years.
It was another symbol, every member of the Wild Boys owning one.
I had a ring just like it in my jewelry box, waiting for me to return after finishing the tasks that were part of my vow.
“Why is that, Mr. Durante?”
He took a few seconds before answering. “Because I can either bring light into your meager life or crush what you’ve tried to accomplish. The choice is entirely up to you.”
As I stared into his intense green eyes, the color as mesmerizing as the man himself, I was forced to realize the situation I’d placed myself in was more dangerous than I’d expected.
I was locked in a room with a real predator.
And the beast had every intention of feasting on his prize.