“Get them out of here,” I say.
My men surround them, disarm them in a matter of moments, and have them out the exit before the rest of the patrons even notice what’s what. Ben sits back down and returns his attention to the girls. I take a seat beside him.
“What was that stunt with Jones?” I ask.
“What stunt?” But he knows what I’m talking about.
I take a deep breath in, then out. I turn to him. “Look at me, Benji.”
“Don’t fucking call me that.” He’s struggling to drag his gaze from the women.
“Then grow the fuck up and I won’t have to.”
He faces me.
“Why would you have an idiot like Jones steal from me? You knew he’d get caught.”
Ben’s eyes harden. “It’s fucked up when people you trust fuck you, isn’t it?”
He’s trying to make a point but he’s doing it badly. “I don’t trust him. I never did.”
Ben gives me a nervous giggle. “Just keeping you on your toes, Cous. Come on, just messin’ with you. You know I’m loyal to you.”
“You’re not messing with me. You’re messing with the fucking mob if you steal their coke. Do you have any idea what they’ll do to a guy like you?”
He clearly hasn’t thought about that part.
“Let me put it in simple terms. If they leave you alive, and that’s a big if, you’ll wish they hadn’t. You don’t fuck with men like Dominic Benedetti.”
“There’s a war brewing. New players in town. You don’t know everything, Cous.”
“I know your new friends will only get you in trouble. I thought you were smarter than that.”
Ben turns his attention back to the girls on the stage and picks up his drink. He sucks back the rest of it, then turns to me. “Don’t pretend you care about me, Kill. Not after what happened. What you did.”
“You know why it happened.” I stand. “We’re not talking about this.” I lean down close to him, take him by the collar, raise him up out of his seat. “I just need you to know that if you try to fuck me, you will fail. But when I fuck you back, I won’t. Am I clear?”
I hear him swallow. He’s scared. He always has been.
“Am I fucking clear?”
“Yes. Clear as a fucking bell.”
“Good.”
I release him and he sits back down. He returns his attention to the girls. I shake my head and head to the elevator. Hugo follows after instructing two men to keep an eye on Benji. We ride up to my office.
“If word gets to Dominic that Rossi’s men were here, he’ll send a message,” I say.
“And you’re afraid your cousin will get caught in that net?”
“Yeah.”
“You don’t owe Benji shit.”
“I know that. I just feel sorry for the kid.”
“He’s not a kid anymore. He was before, but you took care of him. Your job is done.”
“Because of me he’s on his own.”
“No, because of his father, he’s on his own. He’s bad news, Kill.”
“What do you want me to do? He’s my fucking cousin.”
“He’s a bad seed.”
“You think I don’t know that?”
“If Dominic finds out from someone else, he’ll be wondering why you weren’t the one to tell him.”
The elevator doors slide open to my office. Once inside, I switch on the monitors and locate Ben in one. I keep one camera trained on him and switch another one on to show me what’s happening at the Rockcliffe House. “I’ll talk to Dominic,” I say to Hugo.
He watches her over my shoulder. Cilla’s in her bedroom, sitting on the bed, combing out her wet hair. Her face is serious, her eyes far away.
“What’s the girl to you?”
“Piece of ass.”
“Nah. More than that. Piece of ass you got plenty.”
“I don’t know. Different kind of ass.”
He chuckles. “I’ll go back to the floor.”
I barely hear him. I’ve got my eyes locked on Cilla as she stands, strips off her towel and walks into the closet. When she returns, she’s wearing a tank top and a pair of panties. She climbs into bed and switches off the light. I can still see her face. Night vision lens. She’s lying on her back looking straight up into one of the cameras. It’s like she’s looking right at me.
I wonder about what Hugo said. “What’s the girl to you?” I have no fucking clue.
Cilla slides one arm beneath the duvet and I know the instant her fingers find her clit. My dick gets hard as I watch her, her hand shifting the blanket as she spreads her legs and rubs herself beneath it. But it’s her face I’m more interested in. She’s got her eyes closed and she’s caught her lower lip between her teeth. I reach to turn up the volume on that camera and I feel like the cost of the ultra-sensitive microphone has justified itself when I hear her quick breaths of air, her tiny gasps. Hear her make that sound when she comes, the one she made when my dick was splitting her in two. I rub my erection over my pants. I don’t want to use my hand tonight. I want her. I want her slick, tight pussy. Want her heat, her warmth. I want to fuck her again. Make her touch herself again while I watch. Make her come again.