Chapter 6 The Dancer Who Dared

Dan Belinni

I need to fuck.

I had a full day, and not even winning every race I entered was enough to clear the shit out of my head.

I left the track, stopped home just long enough to shower and change, then headed straight to the club hoping to find something to take the edge off.

Sex always works.

The moment I walk in, I'm surprised to find the place even more luxurious than usual, packed with half-naked dancers and music dripping with sensuality.

My eyes quickly find my brothers, talking and drinking whiskey with some of the most powerful men in the United States. Despite how casual it looks, I know them well enough to see they're on full alert.

We never fully rest. That's the price of being inside the mob.

I feel a hand land on my chest and turn my head. It's Blake, smiling at me. Blonde, hot, with that look of someone who knows exactly what she wants. We studied together when I was younger.

I've fucked that girl so many times I lost count. Behind school lockers, in the back seat of my car... wherever there was room. Oliver Clark, her father, a businessman who owes more favors to the Outfit than he has the guts to admit, eventually found out and, instead of confronting me, encouraged his daughter to keep spreading her legs for me.

All for business.

Filthy bastard.

Those are the worst kind of men to me: the ones who'd rather protect their business than defend their family's honor. If I were in his shoes, I would have hunted myself to hell, broken my own face, tortured myself for days, and in the end, buried myself alive.

Even so, I never stopped fucking her. It wasn't my job to defend her honor and, to be honest, I wasn't the one chasing Blake.

It was her. Always around me, offering herself, dreaming of something I never wanted to give. I never felt anything for her beyond desire.

When we weren't having sex, I couldn't stand being near her.

But it wasn't just with her. It was with all of them.

No woman interests me enough to make me want to talk. None of them spark any curiosity in me about whatever the hell is going on in their lives.

I just want sex. And Blake's smile makes it crystal clear that's exactly what she's here to offer.

"Blake, are you coming?"

A female voice comes from behind her, and my eyes immediately search for the owner.

Pretty, hot. Another one who could easily serve what I want tonight.

"Call your friend over," I murmur in Blake's ear. "I want to fuck both of you."

Her face shifts, but I don't bother trying to figure out what it means. I have no patience for that.

"I thought that..." she tries to argue, but her voice dies.

An impatient sigh leaves my lips and I pull the girl's hand off my chest.

"I want to fuck two pussies right now, Blake. If you don't want to be one of them, get out of my way and I'll find someone who does."

I see the reluctance in her eyes and it burns through my patience.

I want to relieve stress. Not find another reason to be pissed off.

"You know what? Fuck it," I say and start walking toward the bar, already scanning other women who might keep me company tonight.

Several look at me, smiles and glances serving as an open invitation to approach. I fix my attention on two on the dance floor and my cock throbs the moment they start grinding against each other, staring at me without hiding their interest.

I take a step toward them, like a hungry predator desperate to feed, but before I can move any further, Blake plants herself in front of me and pulls her friend close.

"What now?" I ask, impatient.

"We'll go with you."

"No chance. I'm not fucking anyone against their will."

"I want you, Dan. You know that. You've always known," Blake argues desperately.

"I want you too," the friend cuts in, and my gaze shifts to her.

There's desire in her eyes, and I can tell she means it.

Still, I don't want complications.

"And I want them," I nod toward the two on the dance floor, who are still grinding and smiling at me with teasing grins.

"What?! No! You can't..."

"I can't?" I cut Blake off, holding her gaze coldly. She swallows hard, no answer. "I think you'd better know your place, girl. I never had anything serious with you and I never will. Understood?"

"One day you'll have to get married. My father said that..."

"Your father?" I let out a dry laugh. "Your father is a coward who trembles just hearing my name. I don't give a damn what he said."

Without wasting another second, I step around them and head toward the dance floor, where the women who actually interest me are still waiting.

"You two, come with me." My voice doesn't sound like a request, but it's not an order either. The tone makes it clear they have a choice.

But they don't say no.

Without asking my name or wasting time on small talk, they take my hands, and I guide them to the club's private area, where rooms are ready for guests looking for something beyond the music and the bar.

I'm a few steps from walking into one of the rooms when I notice a familiar figure stepping out of another.

Blonde.

It can't be.

"What the fuck, Amber?!" I snap, stepping away from the women and moving toward her.

Before I can get close, another woman steps between us.

"Talk to her properly."

Blinking is automatic.

This girl had the nerve to stand up to me? Grown men don't have the guts to do that.

I study her. Long brown hair, soft brown eyes, delicate features... Beautiful, despite the sharp tongue and the suicidal attitude.

My gaze drops, landing on the red dress that screams "sin," hugging her curves in a way that would drive any man out of his mind.

"Who are you?"

"Her friend."

"She doesn't have friends," I say with certainty. I know every detail of Amber's life. She only has me and my mother. "Get out of my way."

"No. I won't let you hurt her."

A bitter laugh escapes before I can stop it. Is this girl serious?

"I would never hurt her. But if she stays here, her life is going to be destroyed."

Amber is promised to Otto, the future Don of the Outfit. If my father finds out she's breaking the rules, he could very well hand her over to the Russians.

"Milena, it's fine," Amber tries to step in, but this Milena doesn't budge.

Milena.

I don't know this girl, but she holds my gaze the way no one would dare without expecting punishment.

There are only two explanations: either she's insane and doesn't fear death, or...

"You have no idea who I am, do you?" My voice comes out low, weighted.

"I know you'll be a dead man if you threaten her again."

Adrenaline.

The wave hits me fast and hard when I realize this stranger is challenging me without a trace of fear.

"Milena, thank you. You've helped me a lot, but you don't need to worry. Dan is my cousin and he's always looked after me."

Without dropping her gaze, she shoots back with sarcasm:

"Oh, really? And where was he when the club's client grabbed you?"

My jaw locks.

"What the hell is she talking about, Amber?"

"I'll explain later. I'm going to call a cab to get home."

"Like hell you are."

Milena twists her lips, throwing me a look that drains my patience while, strangely, spiking my adrenaline.

"You let him order you around?" the bold girl asks, still staring at me.

Her raised eyebrow, arched in challenge, almost makes me want to tell her to go to hell.

Almost.

Because the thought of shutting her mouth with my cock makes my body react in an irritating way.

Damn.

"Do you work here?" I ask, and she tilts her chin up in answer. Perfect. "Then I give you orders too, girl. I'm your boss."

"Just because you pay my salary doesn't mean I'll let you control my life!"

"You don't understand how this shit works, do you?"

"Understand what? That if I don't submit to your command, I'll bruise your fragile ego and lose my job?"

"That you're on my turf and you'll follow my orders, whether you like it or not."

She swallows, but doesn't back down.

"I'm tired of taking orders from men like you."

"What the hell are you saying?"

Amber slips away, leaving us there arguing. A moment later, we follow after her.

"You need to get back to work," she says to Milena, before turning to me. "And you can have fun with your two women. I'm not getting in anyone's way."

Two women?

Damn. I'd completely forgotten about them.

But it doesn't matter anymore, because Amber is starting to move away, and anyone could recognize her.

"If Otto sees you out there, it'll be worse," I warn.

"Otto?" Milena asks, surprised. "Otto Belinni? He's your brother?"

"No. My future fiancé."

If it weren't attached to her body, Milena's jaw would have hit the floor.

"Have you been with him?" The words come out before I can stop them, and I have no idea why the hell it bothers me.

I've shared women with Liam before and never felt jealous. But picturing Otto touching this girl makes me... irritated.

When she shakes her head no, I feel immediate relief.

"Me? No. But every dancer here, yes. He's very shameless and a complete player."

"He's single," I shoot back, because it's the truth.

Even so, I'm not saying it to defend my brother, but because I know that if Amber gives up on marrying him, she'll be handed over to a Bratva mobster.

"And he'll stay that way, because I'm not marrying a cheating man," Amber fires back.

"You don't know what you're talking about! Otto doesn't..."

"You can take me home if you want," Amber cuts in, looking at me. "I'm not going to argue, but I don't want to talk either."

"Are you sure?" Milena presses, annoying me with her meddling.

"I am. I just want to go home."

I take Amber's hand, pulling her firmly. Before we leave the club, I drape my jacket over her.

"Keep your head down and stay quiet."

No one can recognize her. This is for her own good.

In the car, my anger still burns, but despite my worry for Amber, my mind keeps pulling back to the dancer who dared to stand up to me.

Milena.

Her name is etched into my mind.