Chapter 2 She was mine now
Dante's POV
When I stood at the entrance of this so-called "bar," I knew someone was going to get fucked. This was a goddamn stupid bachelor party.
The stench of arousal practically spilling out gave me a headache.
I sat in a booth, made a call to deal with the driver who'd brought me here—idiots don't deserve to keep breathing—then downed an entire glass of tequila, the cold liquid sliding down my throat, finally tamping down some of the irritation churning in my chest.
I was standing up to leave when suddenly a woman in a black satin halter dress straddled me, her left hand hooking around my neck while her right hand produced two hundred dollars from god knows where and stuffed it into my shirt.
"Two hundred! Come with me tonight..."
Her voice was slurred, clearly drunk off her ass, but the hand that had just shoved the money at me found my belt with surprising accuracy, stubbornly trying to yank it open.
I watched the whole thing with amusement. She thought I was a male escort?
I'd fucked plenty of women, but never had one dared to treat me like this. After all, anyone who disrespected me, who disrespected the Solis family—man or woman—ended up buried in some unmarked hole.
But clearly, no one had ever made such a stupidly laughable attempt at disrespecting me before—she had a nice body and a pretty face, so I might as well have some fun with this dumb little spitfire and teach her a lesson: picking up random men in bars for a fuck was never a smart choice.
"Interesting."
I stood, hoisting the woman over my shoulder in one motion, and walked out of that idiotic bachelor party. Naturally, I was going to have a great time with her at the hotel.
On the hotel bed, her body felt custom-made for me, soft yet perfectly toned, and she gazed up at me with those doe eyes, wet and pleading, mumbling "daddy" over and over in that slurred voice.
Of course, good girls deserve daddy's rewards, so I decided to give her what she wanted—it was obvious that's what she was after.
But when I was about to push into that wet, warm pussy of hers, she started whining about her legs hurting, her head hurting, and then passed the fuck out.
Fuck.
Were these bullshit complications ever going to end today?
I turned on the light and saw she looked exhausted, dark circles under her eyes so heavy even sleep couldn't hide the fatigue. Fine, maybe she really did need a proper rest—I didn't stoop to taking advantage of unconscious women, especially when it came to fucking.
After a cold shower, I stood on the terrace smoking a cigar while taking in the night view.
My phone buzzed, an encrypted message flashing on the screen:
Leo: Don, urgent situation requires face-to-face briefing. 73 Berlin Street, the sooner the better.
I stared at the screen for a few seconds. Leo had been my contact in LA for seven years, never bothered me without good reason, so if he said urgent, it was urgent.
I replied with a single word: Fine.
Before leaving, I set my business card atop her bra. I had a feeling our paths would cross again.
Berlin Street was on the edge of the city, our territory, where there shouldn't have been any trouble, but when my car stopped in front of number 73, I noticed dim pink light seeping from inside.
This was supposed to be a place we used to "entertain" special clients, so Leo arranging to meet me here was strange in itself.
I pushed open the car door, right hand never leaving my gun, and found the heavy walnut door standing ajar. I pushed it gently, the hinges creaking softly.
Fuck.
Leo stood behind the counter holding a flash drive, handing it to a bald, muscular man whose back was to me, but I recognized the eagle tattoo on his bicep immediately—he wasn't one of ours.
I didn't hesitate. I fired.
The gunshot was especially sharp in the enclosed space, and the bald man didn't even have time to turn around before he went down stiff as a board, the back of his head blown open, blood and brain matter spraying everywhere.
"Padrino! I—"
Leo finally noticed me, dropping to his knees, shaking like a leaf.
"Let me explain, they took my daughter, I had no choice... please forgive me..."
I frowned and pulled the trigger without hesitation—too much noise. He shut up permanently.
Noisy bastard.
I pulled the phone from the bald man's pocket, the screen still lit and showing a string of chat messages.
Scrolling quickly through mostly irrelevant garbage, one contact labeled "S" caught my attention—the chat history showed this S was a young woman having a rather heated conversation with baldy, and the explicit content made even me raise an eyebrow, photos that left nothing to the imagination, messages so filthy they'd make a whore blush.
well.
I pocketed the phone, pulled a microfiber cloth from my jacket, and carefully wiped down my gun—fingerprints and powder residue had to be cleaned thoroughly, basic professional standards.
Standing between the two corpses, I surveyed the room. Leo had been with me seven years, had survived countless dangers, so he shouldn't have been compromised this easily.
Either the Aguilar family had upped their game, or there was a bigger problem festering in LA.
Maybe I should stick around and see which little rat had been scurrying around behind the scenes.
The heavy walnut door creaked open from outside, and a woman entered—oh, it was that bold little thing from last night.
Look at that, those wet doe eyes now scanning the room with confusion.
"Hello? Anyone here? I'm here for a spa."
I let out a low laugh. Too interesting—a young woman coming here alone for a spa?
If the girl knew this place specialized in providing customized sexual services for certain people, would she bolt?
My gaze fell on her exposed slender neck where the bright red fingerprints were still clear, my exclusive marks. It took me only two seconds to make my decision.
I casually tucked the gun into the back of my waistband and rolled down my sleeves—after all, I couldn't let my family tattoos show. I also casually stepped outside the counter, blocking her view so she wouldn't see those unsavory things hidden behind it.
Wouldn't want to scare her off.
She only wanted a masseur, nothing more, right?
"Come in. Close the door behind you."
The girl hesitated for two seconds, then walked in with a kind of resigned determination and shut the door behind her.
Good girl for daddy.
I pointed to the black leather sofa nearby.
"Over there. Sit. Do you have an appointment?"
She obediently sat on the spa bed, hands on her knees, well-behaved and restrained.
"No, sir."
A flash of apology crossed her eyes.
"Maybe I should come back another time."
She started to rise, but my hands pressed down on her shoulders, pushing her back onto the sofa—that touch, just as intoxicating as last night.
"No need. It just so happens there are no other clients today, but you'd better tell me your name for next time's appointment. We have signature SPA packages that we highly recommend."
Come on, girl. Tell daddy your name.
"Elena."
Elena turned sideways, looking up at me from below—similar angle to when she was giving me head last night.
"Alright, Elena. Now tell me, what's bothering you?"
I kept my expression neutral, though if she knew that my cock was already getting hard, she would definitely regret walking into this wolf's den.
"My leg. Old injury. Hurts from time to time."
Elena tapped her leg in frustration.
Of course I knew about the leg pain—if it hadn't been for that sudden leg pain last night, I would've properly enjoyed that pussy made just for me.
I patted the sofa, gesturing for her to lie down.
"Got it. Now I need you to lie down and take off your dress and shoes."
Her eyes went wide, her face flushing—she looked angry.
This was completely different from her boldness last night, maybe this was her real self, but who the hell had tricked this innocent girl into coming here?
Just when I thought she'd curse me out as a pervert and storm off, she actually started awkwardly taking off her dress.
What?
I entertained myself with the thought, watching her lie flat on the bed, revealing gray CK panties—fuck, that shit got my cock hard.
Fine, whoever it was didn't matter. She was mine now.
I grabbed a cover cloth and draped it over the girl's waist, feeling her obvious tension as I pressed my knuckles against the sensitive soft flesh above Elena's knee.
Years of handling guns had left my palms covered in calluses, and my pressure wasn't light, easily leaving marks on her delicate skin.
Elena instinctively tried to pull her leg back, but I clamped down on her ankle.
"Don't move!"
My palm wrapped around her smooth calf, sliding upward to explore—God, the muscle lines on her inner thigh were perfectly proportioned.
My hand rubbed along her inner thigh, occasionally thrusting toward her mound wrapped in those panties, mimicking the motion of fucking, that addictive sensation reminding me exactly how juicy the pussy under that thin fabric was.
"Mm..."
A low, suppressed moan reached my ears. So sweet.
I really should spread her legs and make her swallow my entire cock, but that would be far less entertaining.
"Did you skip a meal?"
I watched her bluff her way through with that expression. Adorable.
"As you wish, Elena."
I increased the pressure in my hands—these were hands that had snapped plenty of necks, after all.
"Oh god!"
Elena let out a pained cry.
"Do you even know how to give a massage!"
Elena swatted my hand away, flipped over, quickly pulled on her skirt and shoes, and left.
I watched her retreating figure, flexing my wrist, still preferring the good girl who, even when I had my hand wrapped around her slender neck—one small effort away from snapping it—had begged me to go harder.
BANG!
The gunshot from outside rang clearly in my ears, followed by a woman's scream—the sweet I'd just let walk out of here.
