Ruthless King

“See you Sunday. Behave yourself. You have my number, use it if you need to.”

Yeah. She’d never used it before and she didn’t intend to do it now.

But she found herself nodding anyway.

11

Regent sat in a back booth in the dark. Victor sat beside him, while Jose was somewhere behind him.

“Why are we here again?” Victor asked. “We don’t need this guy.”

“I want to check in on him. It’s good for him to see me in person. Keep him in check and get a feel for him now that he’s settled in.”

Plus, he was curious about what he wanted.

“And you want to see that dancer, right? What was her name? Jingles? We gave her some contact details last time.”

“Yes, but perhaps she needs to see me to remember who is in charge around here. Just in case.” He had no reason to speak to her. But he wasn’t above a bit of intimidation.

Victor remained silent.

The woman on the stage finished her dance and strolled alluringly off stage. She didn’t seem concerned about the fact that she was topless in front of a bunch of leering men . . . and women.

“Ahh, gentleman, sorry to keep you waiting.” Santé Santiago walked up to them.

He slid into the booth across from Regent, seemingly unconcerned about having his back to the room.

Then the music grew louder again, this time with a slower, sultrier tune, just before a woman with long, white hair stepped onto the stage.

Obviously, she wore a wig, but it worked with the dark mask she wore that covered the top half of her face.

She was wearing a black gown that covered most of her body. It had wide splits up the sides and a belt that cinched into her waist.

Odd outfit for this place.

“Ahh, there’s Nyx. I wanted you guys to see her. Isn’t she gorgeous?” Santé said, half-turning to watch the woman dance.

And she could dance. She moved around the pole, dancing like there was no one else in the room.

There was something weirdly hypnotic about the way she moved. Something that drew him in.

Until Victor elbowed him and he realized he’d been staring for too long. The last thing he wanted was to show interest in any of Santiago’s girls.

“I thought you might like her.” The other man looked smug. “She doesn’t usually do private dances, but for you, she might make an exception.”

“You’d force her to private dance for us?” Victor snapped, tensing beside Regent.

It was Regent’s turn to elbow his brother. He needed to stay calm.

“I don’t force these girls to do anything,” Santé said.

“I’m glad to hear that,” Regent said.

Santé zeroed in on him. “I know that you refuse to touch the flesh trade.”

“That’s right. Although that doesn’t mean I’m not watching you. You wanted to talk to me about mixology? You know that drug had nothing to do with me, right?”

“But you run this town. You’re in charge. And the girls got very sick from a bad batch of it.” There was no anger in Santé’s voice. As Regent thought, that was a ruse.