Escape: A Mob Stepbrother Romance Read online

  Contents

  Email

  Chapter 01

  Chapter 02

  Chapter 03

  Chapter 04

  Chapter 05

  Chapter 06

  Chapter 07

  Chapter 08

  Chapter 09

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Email

  Hi! I’m Lucy Snow, and I wrote the book you’re about to read. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it, and I hope you read the rest of my books!

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  Chapter 01 - Ronan

  Tonight was gonna be a busy and beautiful night. Pulse was the most exclusive night club in the city. On any given night, when the right people were out and about getting their party on, the hottest and coolest were doing it at Pulse. We had the best music, the best drinks, and the finest girls in the entire state. Hell, not just the state. The entire Eastern Seaboard. Everyone wanted to come to Pulse. The beats here were unlike anywhere else.

  I should know. I was in charge of Pulse. Anything that went on inside was my business. And let me tell you, business was good. It was just another Friday night, and once again the coolest and most beautiful people within driving or flying distance had come out to Pulse to get their groove on and enjoy their evening. This was my kind of place. When I wasn’t running it, I was enjoying all it had to offer.

  “Sir, I think you better check the VIP section.”

  I looked up from the booking sheet in my hands. “Why, what’s going on?” I didn’t bother to look over at VIP yet. My staff knew when it was time to come to me with things.

  “Mr. Jones and his friends are starting to make a bit of a nuisance of themselves.” That got a chuckle out of me. Sam was one of my best bartenders, and he had the typical English knack for understatement. He also didn’t bring things to my attention that didn’t need it.

  “Jones?” I flipped through the mental Rolodex of all the big parties we had in the club tonight. “Right, Jones. The football player.”

  Sam looked at me from across the bar while he mixed drinks for a large group. His eyes kept looking back between me and the VIP section behind me. “The one and the same. I think you should take a look. It looks like they’re starting to get belligerent. I think someone wants a fight. We don’t want things to get out of hand.”

  I smiled back at Sam, and took a sip from the ginger rail I had stashed away. “No, Sam.” I put the drink down. “We certainly don’t want things to get out of hand.”

  I made my way over to the VIP section, and the masses of dressed up people parted around me to let me through. Everyone in this club knew who I was. Maybe they didn’t know me by name, but just looking at my implacably fashionable and well tailored suit and my attitude, they got the hint.

  “Mr. Jones,” I said, to the group taking up the largest section of VIP, despite knowing exactly which one Jones was. “What seems to be the trouble?” Jones’s group was mostly guys but there were a few girls in tight mini dresses spread throughout. One in particular, a striking blonde, sat on Jones’s lap.

  Jones stood up, pushing the blonde off him, a sour look on his face, and a bottle in his hand. He was taller than me and outweighed me by a good 30 pounds, but I didn’t even flinch. That surprised him; I could tell. “What kind of place you running here? Everyone’s trying to start shit with my friends.”

  “Is that so?” I looked around to trying figure out who he meant, but got no help from Jones or his crew. “Because it seems like it’s your guys that are itching for a fight. And I’m not going to let you fight inside my club.”

  Jones got in real close, and I could feel him breathing on me. “Do you really want to mess with me? With us?” He smiled at me. “Because maybe we are just itching for a fight.” And with that, he raised his hand and gave me a little push backwards.

  I let the push sway me, I was careful not to take a step backward. Jones’s eyes gleamed as he got the meaning. I smiled, looking back at him. “How about you guys enjoy your evening, and let the other groups enjoy their evenings as well? Everyone’s here just to have a good time.” And with that, I turned and walked away without another word.

  I went back to where I was standing earlier, near Sam, still mixing drinks. “Looks like you handled that well, boss,” Sam said while pouring a Mojito. “He’s still standing there, like he can’t believe you just walked away from him.”

  “Probably doesn’t happen every day to someone like him.” I chuckled and went back to the list. Just because I ran nightclubs, didn’t mean I didn’t have work to do. It may look glamorous from afar, but this shit wasn’t easy. Not by a long stretch.

  A couple minutes later I was satisfied that everything was in order for tonight, and turned around, my back against the bar, to take in all that I could. Pulse was a huge place, with three bars on three different levels. Whatever kind of music you were into, if you could dance to it, we played it here. The music was loud, but I was used to it by now.

  The crowd was mostly young, some people throwing around a lot of cash, others just here to see and be seen. Everyone came to Pulse for different reasons, but everyone had a good time.

  I was looking to the right when she spoke from my left. I know that voice anywhere. “Hey, Ronan, you got a second?”

  I swiveled my head around, looking at Chelsea from the ground up. She wore the standard uniform for a waitress at Pulse, all the way from the sexy high heels on up to our signature tiny blue mini dress. Chelsea wore it well, certainly in the top three of all my waitresses. “Yeah, Chelsea, I got a few. what’s up?” As I spoke, visions of Chelsea and I fucking in my office and later in my bed swirled around my head. She wore sex well too.

  “Some new guys in VIP, flashing lotsa cash. I thought you might like to say hi.” Chelsea was one of our longest tenured waitresses, and she had her pick of sections, and naturally chose one of them in VIP. By far the best tips there. She nodded her head toward her section.

  “Yeah? I can do that.” Always a good idea to say high new high rolling customers. Gave them something else to remember Pulse by. It wasn’t every day that you got a meet and greet with a real live gangster.

  I followed Chelsea back to her section, focusing mainly on her sexy ass and how her dress accentuated it. So many guys right now were getting in trouble with their girls for looking her way, but whenever I wanted, I had that. Chelsea was always down for a good fuck.

  Back in VIP, I threw a quick glance at Jones and his crew before putting a tight smile on my face and greeting Chelsea’s new big spenders. I caught a couple of them whispering about me as I walked up, and I could tell all of them were intrigued but nervous too. They’d all seen Goodfellas one too many times and weren’t sure how to act around me.

  “Relax, guys,” I said after I’d shaken all their hands. “I’m nothing like you think.” You’d think someone stuck a pin in each of them, the way they visibly relaxed, like they were suddenly safe. I let that sit for a moment. “The truth is,” I smiled, “it’s much worse than you’ve heard.”

  That got a round of nervous laughter. The leader of the group
stood back up and offered me a drink from their table, and I let him pour me a shot of some our most expensive whiskey. I stayed there for a few minutes, learning they were a group of software engineers who’d just hit it big with a new app or something. I let it all slide over me, staying in the conversation but not really paying attention.

  I talked to the customers because it was expected of me, not because I liked it. Everyone was on airs in a nightclub, puffing themselves out, trying to be more than they were the other 188 hours of the week. After a few weeks of people hearing stories about me, what I do and the means I use to do it, getting people pea-cocking in front of me got old quick. I had no time for it beyond what was needed to keep the VIP section filled every night of the week. Someone needed to pay 30 times the price of grocery store liquor and a nice table for a few hours, and it sure as shit wasn’t gonna be me.

  While I talked to the nerd patrol, I was really looking back at Jones. Almost as if I had never gone over there to talk to them, they were starting to get mouthy again, harassing their server and yelling at the table on the other side of them, and it was getting to be a problem. I couldn’t have people getting in the way of others having a good night. It was bad for business.

  Chelsea, standing behind me and pouring drinks for the table, noticed it too and tapped me on the back. I nodded to her, then back at the table. “Would you excuse me, gentlemen? It seems another table needs my attention. Please have a good rest of the night.” Immediately they all stood at attention like I was some kind of military general. I shook the leader’s hand and stepped away.

  I motioned for Chelsea to stay with them then I went back to Jones, addressing the entire group. “Gentlemen, it seems we’ve had a miscommunication. I’m sorry it happened, but I’m going to have to ask you to leave.” A couple of Jones’ crew gave me a funny look but said nothing.

  “The fuck you say?” Jones stood up, again pushing the gorgeous blonde off his lap, and waving a magnum bottle in his hand. It was nearly full and those were not light, but he swung it around like it was a switchblade. “We’re not going anywhere. We paid for the table and we’re gonna stay right here.”

  He got right up in my face again. I readjusted my tie and stared him down. “No, Mr. Jones, you’re mistaken. You and your friends were just leaving. If you’re smart you’ll leave before everyone down there,” I motioned behind me to the main dance floor, “pulls out their phones and records you getting kicked out of Pulse.”

  Jones looked like he was going to hit me. He turned at the waist, planting his feet, and I’d already figured out how I’d step into his swing and take him down without having that bottle explode, when one of his buddies caught his hand and held him back, whispering some words in Jones’ ear. His eyes widened, and this time he stepped back. “I’m sorry,” he muttered, casting his eyes down.

  I stepped in. “I’m sorry, Mr. Jones, I didn’t hear that.” I turned my head and raised a hand up, pointing to my ear. “Could you speak up a bit? All this loud music.” I waved back at the dance floor.

  Jones shrugged his shoulders in defeat, and I could tell he was not thrilled to have to do this in front of his boys, but what choice did he have? “I’m sorry,” he said, louder this time.

  “These things happen,” I added just the smallest amount of consolation to my sarcasm. “Perhaps if you ask nicely next time, we’ll be able to accommodate you again in the future.” I held out my hand, and one by one Jones’ crew left, heading toward the exit. One or two tried to look hard while they did it, but others who knew better quickly got them under control and they left the club with a minimum of fuss.

  One of their girls stayed behind; the blonde who sat on Jones’ lap. She came toward me, dressed to the nines and balancing perfectly on impossibly high heels. She took a card out of her purse and handed it to me as she passed by. “Call me some time,” she whispered, before joining Jones’ crew on the way to the exit.

  Just what I needed. It was bad enough I’d shown a big star like Jones up in front of his friends and hundreds of strangers, but now his girl wanted a piece of me too? I shook my head, but made sure to file the card away in my jacket pocket. Maybe some other time, when I was looking for trouble.

  Chelsea appeared in front of me. “Nice job, there, Boss.”

  “Thanks.” The club was already back to normal buzzing like nothing had happened. I walked to the center of the club, just off the main dance floor, and watched the people dance, undulating in waves to the hottest tunes. I didn’t notice them much anymore - aside from guest DJs who came in to packed houses every so often, the music changed every few weeks, so by now I’d heard all these songs dozens of times.

  It took a few seconds before I realized Chelsea was still standing there checking me out. “Can I help you with anything else?”

  Her eyes dropped and she straightened her dress, fidgeting, before deciding to take a more direct approach. “Can I…can I come over tonight?” Her face glazed over with lust, and I could tell she was going over the last time we’d fucked in her mind.

  I didn’t blink. “Raincheck, can’t tonight.”

  Chelsea’s face dropped. “Oh. OK.”

  “Some other time, though. Tonight I’ve got other plans.”

  She smiled. “Yeah? Like what?”

  I looked around till I found her. “Sarah,” I said, pointing. Chelsea followed my finger all the way to our new waitress across the floor, serving drinks from a small tray she was getting better at keeping upright with a minimum of spilling. Sarah and I had already talked earlier in the evening and she was coming home with me.

  Chelsea’s gaze bore holes in me. Or tried to. “The new girl, eh? I might have known.” I braced myself for an outburst. Chelsea just smiled. “Well, pencil me in for another night this week, OK?” She reached forward, and when I didn’t move, she patted me across the front, just over my crotch. “I can’t wait to get some more of this. And,” she licked her lips, “I don’t mind sharing.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind.” I smiled before indicating behind her. “You’ve got tables that need your particular brand of attention.”

  “Thanks, boss. Can’t wait to give you some of that attention again soon…” She touched me on the arm and then was off toward her tables.

  I stood and watched the crowds again for a couple minutes before I went to my office upstairs. One entire wall of my plush and ornate office was a giant window onto the main floor of the club. Sometimes I would sit there in one of my lounge chairs and watch the people.

  I put one hand on the glass and felt the bass of the giant sound system reverberate against the wall. I spotted Chelsea in the crowd; as if on cue she turned and looked back at me, giving me a little wave and a wink.

  More than once, I’d pressed Chelsea against that glass wall, lifted up her body hugging dress and slid per panties out of the way, sinking my cock deep into her as she moaned my name.

  I searched the floor till my eyes landed on Sarah. I might have her come up here before we left for my place. Give the last guests of the club something to see, so they remember their night at Pulse forever.

  I sat down in one of the chairs and poured myself a tall scotch from the bottle I kept on a table nearby. Taking a long sip, I turned the volume up on the office sound system, letting the club music come over me like everyone out there could hear.

  I’d come a long way. Rough kid, angry at my father for not being around as a kid, mad at the world at my mother’s death when I was just a teenager. Took out my aggressions in the military and came back the prodigal son, went to school for business, and now I was in the family business.

  And I hadn’t just coasted on my father’s name, not me. Not my style at all. No, I’d worked my way up from the family’s version of the mailroom, and a few years later I was in charge of all our entertainment and nightlife properties. Not a bad gig if you were like me and didn’t really form very strong attachments with girls. They seemed to like the danger of being with me and they knew bet
ter than to get too used to the feeling.

  It was the perfect arrangement.

  Things were looking pretty good for me.

  Chapter 02 - Kara

  “Shit,” I muttered to myself, pulling my coat tighter around me. If anyone had been looking right then I must definitely look like a crazy girl, wandering around in the middle of the night dressed like this.

  I passed by brightly lit storefront, illuminating my flashy purple dress hugging a little too tight over my curves under my coat. I wobbled a bit in my heels, a couple inches higher than I was used to, but I pushed on.

  I needed to get to Pulse.

  Every time I passed by a group of people or saw them coming my way I turned away, trying to keep out of sight despite how my outfit would beg to differ. I wondered if they’d be out looking for me, and until I felt safe, all I could do was assume everyone I ran into was out to get me.

  I’d feel safe once I got to Pulse. If he was there, maybe he would help me. He could, I knew that, but what I didn’t know was whether he would.

  A big group came around the corner and I ducked into the doorway of an old store, letting them pass by. I watched as they did, laughing all the way. They must have had a nice dinner out somewhere and were now heading to a club.

  On an ordinary night like tonight was supposed to be, I’d be in a group like that, with friends, getting ready to dance the night away and maybe meet someone special.

  But already, just an hour after everything changed, all of that felt so foreign to me. Here I was in my home town, where I’d been my whole life, and these streets suddenly felt like a foreign country. I barely recognized places I’d been passing by my entire life.