Vincent (Made Men, #2)(43)

“Tell Lucca I said he’s a sick fucking bastard for this.” Fucking Lucca had this planned. “And if he could put us down to work when she does till I get her out of this mess, that would be great. But call him an asshole when you do.”

Fuck thanking Lucca and God anymore.

Dear Mafia Father, fuck you.





Chapter Twenty-Eight I Know You Smell It, Playboy. It’s Lake’s Virginity.



Lake tried not to keep looking over her shoulder at Vincent every five minutes, but she had never seen him like that before. His eyes never wavered from her, not even once, and his intensity frightened her. He was looking at her on a completely different level from what all the other men were.

The men she served had a face of lust, which used to scare her up until that point. Vincent looked at her like he owned her. In his eyes, she was his property whether she wanted to be or not. There was sexual hunger there like the other men, but while they would be satiated with one taste, Vincent wanted her as his slave.

Lake felt like she had been owned her entire life with school, Ashley, John, and finally Dante. She wasn’t going to be owned by anyone else. Especially not him.

Once she set a shot down in front of a customer, he downed the contents then handed her the first tip of the night.

Shit. Lake swallowed hard as she took the bill from his hands. She forced a smile at the eagerly waiting man who wanted a show.

Hurriedly, she shimmied her breasts then put the bill down her corset. Her eyes lifted to the back wall and saw Vincent being held back by Nero and Amo.

“Thank you,” she said before turning on her heels and practically running. She went straight to the back bar, trying to calm her nerves.

Her life depended on the job, and Vincent was going to ruin it. That little bit of nothing shimmy was short and rushed compared to how she usually did it. All those men returned, and if they didn’t feel like they got what they deserved, they wouldn’t tip her again. They would simply give it to another girl who was willing to show off. The tips were going to get her out faster.

Fuck him. Next time, I’m doing it right.

The next few hours went by and every time someone handed her a tip, she was determined to give a show right up until she actually took it out of their hands. Then she would think, Shit, I can’t do it!

It was to the point that her little shimmy was pathetic. The first few times, she would look to see if Vincent was going to murder the customer, seeing his friends were still holding him back. Therefore, she kept dumbing it down until it looked like it was tolerable for him. Sure, she saw the psycho killer wanting to murder everyone in his path, but at least he didn’t need assistance anymore. Why it mattered to her that it was bearable for Vincent, she had no fucking clue.

While she was waiting for her drinks to be made, she noticed Sadie going to the little stage and setting a chair in the middle. What is she doing? She had never seen her do that before.

Sadie came over the microphone. “We got a birthday boy on our hands tonight, girls. Come on up, Alan.” She did a sexy ‘come here’ signal to an older gentleman by the stage.

Taking Alan’s hand, she placed him on the chair. “Alan, honey, which lucky girl here would you like?”

Lake’s mouth dropped open, not knowing what was to come. She became slightly nervous as he looked around. When he picked one of the women who worked the stripper poles, her nerves ceased.

Why would I think he would’ve picked me, anyways? She was silly to be nervous about that.

“Hit it!” Sadie yelled, leaving the stage.

The room went dark, leaving only the stage lit. Music began to play again, and the woman started shaking her ass in front of Alan’s face. Alan kept his hands at his sides as she started to sexily dance on his lap.

Lake’s eyes widened a couple of times. Well, I know why he picked her.

When the song came to an end and clapping erupted, she went to pick up her tray of drinks. I don’t ever have to be worried of being picked again. She herself would pay for a lap dance from the pole dancer if she were into that kind of stuff.

Sadie jumped back on the stage. “I would like to officially introduce everyone to our newest girl. Lake, where are you, honey?”

Lake’s head snapped back to the stage to see Sadie scanning the crowd.

Nonononononononononono!

“There you are. Wave.” Sadie smiled at her.

Lake licked her dry lips in nervousness.

“She’s a little shy, everyone. Go on and wave, honey.”

With a spotlight finding her, she smiled and gingerly put her hand in the air then started to wave.

“Lake is our youngest and definitely most innocent,” Sadie said with a wink, “of our girls, and I just wanted to congratulate her for her first week. So don’t forget about her, future birthday boys!”

She didn’t…

“Now, let’s show her some love!”

Her ears began to fill with whistles and hollers. Every man’s eyes were on her.

She did.

Thankfully, the music started back once again and most of the men’s eyes left her body. She could feel the burning of her cheeks as she picked up her tray to deliver the drinks.

Heading to the table, she saw a furious Vincent. She could practically see the steam coming from his nostrils.

She set the drinks in front of the men, and the last one she handed one to was the red-headed man she knew by name—David. He had been there every night since she had started working. He always sat in her section, not moving until her shift ended. And yes, he still gave her the creeps, but she had to teach herself to block him out.