I shrug, turning toward him slightly. L’artisaniant is the club we all opened. There are four levels for every kink, and the higher you get, the worse it becomes. It serves different purposes, one being Anonymous is able to find their greasy men who like to steal little girls. But it is mainly for us.

“We can open there too… give me something else to fuck with that isn’t her.”

Everyone bursts into laughter.

Chapter Fourteen

Whispers around the underbelly of Chicago kind of remind me of a high school cafeteria. You wouldn’t think that some of these scary looking men had mouths that ran faster than a fucking Olympic medalist. Seriously fucking disappointing the more I think about it.

“Look, I didn’t have anything to do with it—I swear. That wasn’t us, baby!”

I lower myself down to his eye level, my Louboutin red bottom heel squishing over the puddle of blood that weeps out of his forehead. Tilting my head, I run the tip of my stiletto fingernail over the knife wound on his chest, watching as the pigment of his skin drains of any color, his eyes glazing over.

“I swear, Ruby! I didn’t. I wouldn’t do that to you, baby! You know me!” I stand straight, snatching the dishcloth that’s hanging on the edge of the kitchen island and swiping my hands with it.

“Correction,” I say, raising one perfectly manicured finger. “I know your cock, not you.” Tossing the cloth onto his face, I wander around his lounge, looking at happy couple photos framed near the fireplace. “And you’re married?” I turn over my shoulder, a raised brow on him. I whistle. “Wow. Just when I think you can’t go lower, you do.”

“Look, whatever you want, take it! You want money? Is that it? Who are these people? Dude, who the fuck even are you?” He must be looking at Tony now, my head of security, or Val, my other right hand. At any second, either of them could snap his tiny baby neck.

Picking up a photograph, I look between the downtown city lights and back to the photo. “No kids?”

Roger splutters. “Fuck you, Ruby. I’m all into your creepy sex games, but this is too far!”

Placing the photo frame back onto the mantel, I slowly turn back to face him. “I take that as a no?”

“Fuck you.”

I giggle, my eyes darkening on him. “Oh, honey…” My smile widens. “You wish that was what I was doing.” I close the distance between us, and Roger’s face falls. His anger diminishes.

“Lala, I hate to interrupt your—” Val gazes down at Roger. “Playtime, but we have a meeting with the New York outfit and we’re already late.”