wounds of silk

7. Sloane

After being on the road for a few good hours, blasting his car over the speeding limit, drowning himself into the thrill of the rush, giving away the power over his life, Sloane finally felt tensions to ebb away from his shoulders.

He strode into the Laces & Stilettoes, a mob-owned strip club. His messy hair hung over his forehead, shadowing his gaze from the onlookers while he noticed every bit and pieces roving around the place.

Seductive music wafting into the air, creating a sensual mood. Rich purple and shocking pink whisking over the walls, floors and the leering faces. Patrons flashing their wealth, tossing money at the strippers performing for them on the stage. The strippers sliding down to the floor, grinding their asses on the metal pole and shaking their bountiful t**s in front of the ogling faces.

Judging by the spread out of the crowd, Sloane was a little late for the party but the party wasn’t going to stop anytime soon. It would go on all night until the patrons had enough booze running through their systems and messing with their heads that they couldn’t think before emptied their pockets to the outstretched hands of the strippers.

The scantily clad women rambling around, swaying their hips with trays balancing on their hands, offering drinks to the patrons. In reward, a generous wad of cash shoved under the waistband of their panties.

Business was good.

Bills rolling in.

And at the end of the night, that what mattered the most.

Profits.

Any missing bills or slow business, Sloane needed to answer to his father. And it never went well in the past.

Laces & Stilettos had always been a public front to keep out the cops from sticking their noses into their illegitimate side of the businesses. It was mainly for a show. A public display to earn clean money and catered to the whims of every client. But at the back of the club, the end of the hallway, where the real business took place. Laundering of dirty money, exchanges dealt in drugs and other illegal activities.

Sloane walked straight to the bar, took his usual spot at the far corner, close to the back door which was leading into the kitchen and into the back of the club. He didn’t even have to flick his fingers to grab the attention of the bartender, Michael. He dropped his task at hand, supposedly mixing drinks for a customer, and served Sloane his regular and went back to his task.

Like it was just a normal occurrence. But everyone knew who he was so the man in concern didn’t make a fuss about it.

Sloane tipped up his glass and poured the liquid down his throat and ordered another. After a few more drinks, his mind stopped overworking. A calmness spread over his body but the thoughts of Eeva never dimmed, still humming through his fuzzy senses. His body vibrating with need.

Her face without a trace of makeup, made her look more young and innocent. Her striking feminine features became prominent with her doe eyes and fuller cheeks. Her bottom lip slightly protruding with a trace of curiosity and hesitation. The need to ask questions about every damn thing was quite obvious as she bit down on her bottom every so often.

Sloane wanted to swallow down her questions and answered her with the heat burning inside him to make her waiting worthwhile and promising.

Sloane seized the glass right over the top with his palm to hold himself back from downing more alcohol. The rim dug harder into his skin and the sufferable sting brought him back into the reality where Sloane could never have her.

Eeva was his father’s wife.

His prized collection. And the way his father ogling at her, he wasn’t going to let her go at any time soon.

Eeva didn’t have a clue by marrying his father she signed her own death warrant with her own f*****g hands. She still hadn’t figured out the s**t she had stepped into. And when she would find out, it would be late. More like she was already late by marrying his father and officially became his.

The w****s got better treatment from the patrons booked them for the night than his sadist father. Some had died at his father’s hands and others were severely beaten and bruised, that they passed out before the night even came to an end. And Sloane had to clear up his messes by carrying the girls out of the house, put them into the car and calling their appointed doctor to take care of the matter.

After watching his father throughout his life, he knew what expected of him. But when his father wedded Eeva, Sloane was confused and beyond shocked about his father’s sudden interest in a virgin bride. The thought made his blood boil and he realized what he just concluded. He was pretty sure Eeva was a virgin. And pure. She just brought bad luck with her.

Sloane’s grip on the glass tightened further until the glass shattered, s**t!

Sloane shook off his hand and noticed the shards of the glass stuck to his palm. He picked out the shards, tossed them over the bar top and muttered a quick thanks to Michael as he tossed a clean rag to wrap his injured hand.

Suddenly, a hand with long, fake nails snaked her way down to his arm to inspect the damage. Without seeing who she was, Sloan swirled his chair and gripped the wrist of the w***e who dared to touch him without his permission.

When Sloane saw who she was, he loosened his hold and got back to resume his task.

When Tasha noticed Sloane was struggling, she helped him to tie the knots and slumped on his lap. She pushed her butt against his d**k and rolled her hips from side to side.

“Let me ease your pain.” Sloane gritted his teeth in frustration. What Tasha was thinking, she couldn’t be more wrong. His hard-on was not because of what Tasha believed, that she had an effect on him. It was all Eeva’s doing.

From the first time, Sloane met Eeva, she made him hate her so f*****g much, he couldn’t stop thinking about her. It was like somehow Eeva had a hold on him that she didn’t even know exist, and Sloane was never going to spill his guts.

Tasha’s sultry voice humming in his ear, promising what any other night Sloane would gladly accept and bend her over his bed and took out all his frustration. But today, his mind was somewhere else, to the woman who might be warming his father’s bed right now.

“Tasha,” Sloane groaned. She leaned back on his chest and gestured him to one of the private rooms as if in a cue, an almost naked girl with only panties on came out and a few paces behind her, a man shuffled out of the room, tucking his shirt inside his pants.

“I’m not in a mood tonight, Tasha. And the show you just displayed,” Sloane chuckled “You got quite the crowd.”

Tasha slid down his lap and pouted like a little girl but there was nothing naive about her gestures.

Sloane swirled the liquid in his glass and directed her, “If you ask me, I would say the man in the corner over the stage, wearing fine leather shoes and drinking scotch. He’s our new associate and always generous with his tip.”

Tasha’s eyes brightened, hearing she would be earning some extra cash tonight. Her gaze skirted around to find out the said patron. Sloane didn’t wait for another round of chitchat and quickly left her in her search and made his way to one of the booths and texted Ashton.

Ashton not even less than a minute strolled in towards Sloane’s booth with a glass of whiskey in his hand. His shirt crumpled though perfectly tucked into his pants and a languid smile spread across his face. Though it seemed nothing happened but Sloane knew the bastard too well. He had a good ride in his car.

Ashton slumped onto the other side of the booth, spread his arms across his seat and zeroed his focus on Sloane.

“What’s gotten into you? Why are you in a sour mood lately.”

Sloane deepened his scowl.

Ashton chuckled. “Let me guess. What did your father do now?”

Ashton knew the dynamics of Sloane with his father very well. They never got along.

“I couldn’t stand the way he treats me as if it’s not enough already, now he humiliates me in front of his wife.”

“How is she? She must be one hell of a sexy woman if she caught your father’s eyes. Your father has a reputation. After every shipment, he himself inspects the goods and keeps the best for himself before it reaches the market. And when he’s done ruining the fresh stock, he then returns the goods into the club.”

Sloane sighed, “Eeva is young and inexperienced. Not his usual taste. I don’t know what’s the sudden change. What makes him choose her?”

“Maybe your father is bored after all, trying the same thing again and again. He wants to try something new this time.”

Sloane felt his chest tightened for Eeva. He never wanted to witness the light snatched away from her eyes, leaving only a broken shell of Eeva.

“Are you thinking about her?” Ashton knew him well so it was always easier for him to read the emotions of his best friend.

Sloane stared at Ashton, he wanted to deny his accusation but finally, Sloane diverted the question. “Why would you think that?”

“You have that look,” Ashton remarked.

“What look?” Sloan asked, getting irritated with his conclusions.

“The look says that you want to save her.”

“Why would I do that? I am no knight in shining armour and how could I save her when I couldn’t even save myself from my father’s wrath.”

“Fair enough. But it won’t be long before your father retires and passes everything to your brother.”

Sloane sighed in relief that Ashton bought his false claims. He definitely wanted to take Eeva away as far as he could from his father but he knew that was impossible.

“I doubt he has any intention to handover the Romanov empire anytime soon to Chernoa. All he claims is that he is teaching everything he can to his successor but the truth is that he enjoys having power over everybody else. And for him, I am no one. A product of no planning.”

Ashton watched him with a blank look because he knew Sloane hated when anyone regarded him with a pitiful stare.

“Why don’t you come to my house and stay at my place, tonight?”

Ashton said as if it wasn’t a usual occurrence when things got a bit nasty, which happened most of the time, Sloane didn’t return home. This had been going on for over a year now, the guestroom at Ashton’s place had most of Sloane’s clothes, shoes, whatever he needed on a daily basis.