“Something that's gonna make jaws drop and cocks pop,” I giggle, and she laughs.
“And to make them men of yours drool?”
“They are not my men.” I glare at her.
“Oh, come on. They are fine as fuck. None of the women are allowed to touch them, despite how much a lot of them want to.” I let out a growl at the thought. “Chill, they won't. They know that what’s Queenie's is not to be messed with,” Lola chuckles.
“They are my property, my workers, if nothing more,” I huff, getting changed into my red, glitter bra and black, short shorts. I put on some bright red lipstick and take out my ponytail, letting my long, black hair hang down in loose curls. Slipping on my red, studded heels, I take one last look in the mirror before turning to the other girls.
“Showtime,” I sing with a bright smile. I'm going to be the opening number, leaving me the rest of the night to hang out at the bar and drink until I forget. I know that Evie said to wait, but I know what happens to girls who go out thinking they are doing one thing, then wind up being a sex slave in the basement of a restaurant for five years.
My heels click as I walk down the hall and head backstage. Once I’m announced, the whole place erupts into cheers and whistles. I can't help but grin as I take in all the excitement for me. I miss dancing. As shitty as it was being forced to do it for all those years, I never lost the love for it. Being up on that stage, no matter the circumstances, gave me a sense of power and freedom, letting me get lost in the music, if only for a few minutes. Like the calm before a storm.
When we first started this place, I used to dance every night, but as my empire grew, so did my responsibilities. The more we expanded, the more time I spent in business meetings. Sure, half ended in bloodshed, but it was still work.
I enjoy getting up there and having fun with the girls. I don’t go up there anymore for the entertainment of others, I go up there with whatever song I'm feeling. Could be slow and sexy, or fast and silly. Upbeat and seductive, or I might just stand there and sing. When I perform, I do it for me and no one else. That part, I took back for myself.
The song starts playing before I step onto the stage, and the crowd grows even more wild. I mean, it’sWAPby Cardi B and Megan Thee Stallion, so there's more than a few reasons to get excited about this song. I love dancing around my house naked, belting this song out, not giving two fucks.
With my mic in hand, I start to walk slowly out on stage as soon as the lyrics start. I try to look around the room as I sing, but my eyes can't help but gravitate to Neo and his cousins.
The look on their faces as I sing these dirty as fuck lyrics is priceless, and I’m loving it, every second of it.
Axel
HOW AM I SURPRISED, and at the same time not at all, by her choosing this song? She's up there singing about wet pussy and all the shit she wants a guy to do to her using his cock. The men around here are drooling like dogs looking at a bone while they listen to her sing the graphic lyrics as if they wish they could be the one to provide that for her.
Pigs.
But as I watch her, I can't help imagining it's my cock her mouth is wrapped around, or myself being strangled by her tight cunt. Look, I may not like this new Harlow. This isn't the one who we all fell in love with and were willing to break our own hearts to keep safe. Which, by the way, was the dumbest decision we ever made. Well, that Dean made; we didn't get much of a choice. My brother and Neo were the ones most broken by Dean sending her away. I didn't like it either, but I accepted my cousin’s choice and understood the benefits of what he had done. At the time, he had a valid point. How were we to know that the guy with the money would screw us over and Harlow would end up in the complete opposite situation than what we had wanted her in?
This Harlow that I’m watching right now. She's not the young, damaged girl who stole my heart with her sassy, yet shy personality. There's no blushing when we check her out anymore; there's no hair tucking and stolen glances. All that's left is this hardened version of a woman who will slit your throat with a smile and not blink twice about it.
My dick sure remembers her, though. She’s too fucking stunning to forget. There's just something about her that sets her apart from all other women.
I still don't like her, though. She’s too controlling. There's no compromising with her, and everything has to be her way. I've never submitted to a woman before, and I don't plan on doing any more than I have to when it comes to her. I'll play her little games for the sake of our company and Rosie, but that's it.
Her little stunt of banning us from fucking anyone is downright inhuman. I mean, if she’s not willing to let us fuck her because even if I don’t like the woman, I’ll sure as hell fuck her, then why not let us get it elsewhere? I get not touchingherwomen, that’s fine, no matter how hot some of them are, but all women? I could just fucking strangle her, but she would probably have my cock in one of her hands and a dagger in the other, ready to slice it off before I could blink. As much as I hunger for sex, it’s not worth getting my dick cut off over, so I guess I’ll have to keep using my hand for now.
Shaking my head clear of my wandering thoughts, I focus back on the woman of the house. The club is losing it for her, but she's not even really dancing. I heard her voice the other night, and the girl sure can sing, but this song doesn't show that talent. Although, she seems to be having fun. She has a big smile plastered on her face, and she just enjoys the beat. Shaking her ass and swaying her hips as her friend Roxy sings a part of the song.
Dean watches her with a blank face, but I'm sure his cock is just as hard as mine is right now. Neo wasn't wrong. I know for a fact that I have jacked off more in these past few months than I have in all of my teenage years combined. I crave a wet cunt to pound into and a fist full of hair that I can grab a hold of. Porn isn’t doing it for me anymore, so moments like this where I can watch Harlow up there half naked, or when I catch the tail end of her and Neo’s animalistic fucking, are things I can’t help but store away for later. Yes, it's fucked up, but maybe so am I. I can hate a person and still imagine being balls deep inside them while they scream my name. After all, no one gets my blood boiling quite like her, and right now, that’s all I have.
THE NIGHT GOES ON,and Harlow sits at the bar laughing and talking with a few people. Neo is always at her side, like a loyal, little lap-dog. Ready to care for her every need. At first, I thought it was pathetic that Neo, Mr. Look-at-me-wrong-and-I'll-smash-your-teeth-in, was bowing down for some woman, but now I get it.
She may not be the same woman that we all used to love, but she is definitely the woman meant for Neo, at least. Her fucked up type of crazy matches his, if not more so. He’s found someone that he can be himself with completely. I just feel bad for the poor sap that she won’t give himeverythinghe craves. She may enjoy fucking him and love having someone with an equally messed up brain as hers to plot her kills with, but she won’t love him the way he wants her to.
The only people she really cares for are the people who work for her and Evie. I guess, Rosie now too. I can tell that it meant more than just killing perverts to her. More than just her everyday kills. She set out to destroy them and brought them down as if they’d hurt someone she loved. And I know that Rosie shot straight to the top of her list of people she’s ready to die for.
She never asks me or Dean about Rosie, but I know she hounds Neo for updates and photos since Cass isn't here for her to do that to.
And Rosie is always asking about Queenie.When is Queenie gonna come back over to play dolls with me?Orwhen can I show Queenie Bob and Susie?Cass tells her,Soon, and I don't know if it's just to keep her happy or if he really means it, but I know Harlow will make sure it happens. One way or another.
We are all still trying to wrap our heads around what happened. When Harlow came out of Rosie’s room with murder in her eyes and mentioned Rosie’s mom and stepdad, I just knew. My heart was ripped right out of my chest, and I can only imagine what my brother must be going through. Harlow only kills sick and evil men, so when she said they were dead, I wanted to be right there alongside her to bring them down.
But that was Cass’s place. He had all these things he’d planned on doing to that sick bastard, but from the moment he laid eyes on him, he just lost it. He saw red and didn't stop punching until Dean and I pulled him away. We didn't care what he did to the guy, hell, we all wanted to join in and help, but Cass was bordering the line of no return. A mindset that would be next to impossible to get out of once it traps you. So, we had to take him away to cool him down.
After we dragged him out of the room, he just went numb, almost robotic in nature. That was, until we got him in through the door to our house, and then he lost it again. He started smashing everything in sight. Nothing was stopping him. It took Rosie coming into the room and seeing her dad losing it and saying, “Daddy” for him to stop. The moment he saw her sleepy, little face and messy, blonde hair, he instantly stopped his rampage, just scooped her up in his arms and has yet to really let her go.