Titan (The Villetti Chronicles, #2)

by Sarah Bailey

This one is for all my degradation kink girlies Sometimes we just want to be called good little sluts

The music pulsed in my ear as I fixed my eyes on a spot on the red velvet upholstered seating in front of me. My body twisted around the pole, performing a routine I’d done hundreds of times. Yet each time gave me a sense of satisfaction unlike any other. Something about being watched made my heart race and my body grow hot.

Tonight Zayn had arrived with a guest who looked very much like him, with dark hair, tanned skin, and dark eyes. A younger version of Zayn without the tattoos.

There was no way in hell they’d be let in otherwise. They weren’t our normal type of clientele.

I didn’t falter in my routine, but my eyes narrowed on him.

There was a difference between being watched for the eroticism of it and being leered over. A huge fucking one I understood all too well. For me, there was safety in being watched in this place where there were strict rules and boundaries everyone had to abide by. It wasn’t the same as when people thought you belonged to them, and they could do whatever the fuck they wanted.

I didn’t answer him. He clearly didn’t know he wasn’t meant to approach or try to interact with the dancers. We were here to be watched, not touched. If a client wanted a lap dance, they would have to request it via the hostesses who were dotted around serving drinks.

The next thing I knew, someone had wrapped their hand around my ankle and tugged at it, almost forcing me off balance.

“Hey, I’m talking to you.” I tried to shake him off, but his grip was like a vice. What the fuck was this guy’s problem?

A hand wrapped around his throat and dragged him away from me. His nails scraped across my bare ankle, making me wince and hold on to the pole to stay upright. I watched as the man was thrown back into his seat and a loud thump echoed above the music, followed by a pained howl emitting from his throat. My gaze darted down to the table, finding his hand pinned to it by a knife. What the… “Don’t touch the girls.”

“Gil, you cannot go around stabbing my patrons,” came Zayn’s hissed voice as he arrived next to his brother. “He touched one of your girls.”

I didn’t know whether to be shocked, amused, or horrified by the scene in front of me. It wasn’t the first time I’d witnessed violence, but it rarely occurred in Desecration. Zayn ran a tight ship. It was one of the reasons I’d chosen to work at the club. I had safety here. I could rely on my work colleagues and my bosses to make sure I was unharmed.

“I’m fine, Mr Villetti. No harm done,” I replied, not wanting to make more of a scene. I knew Zayn preferred to deal with anything like this in private. He wasn’t a showy man who wanted everything on blast. More like someone who worked behind the shadows and had everyone dancing to his tune without even trying too hard to manipulate them.

His brother arrived next to him. The way he looked at me made me swallow all over again. It wasn’t leering nor curious. His dark eyes were almost devoid of emotion, which was incredibly unnerving.

His mouth twitched slightly, and he stepped closer. “Thank you.”

The words erupted from my throat in a rush, not wanting to seem ungrateful that he’d dealt with the man for me. I didn’t like being touched by people without my consent. It made my skin crawl. Having someone defend me the way he had meant a lot to me.

That hadn’t flustered me. No, it was Zayn’s brother, who he’d called Gilberto… Gil. The way he’d stared at me with little emotion in his expression. The fact he’d so casually stabbed a man in the hand like it meant nothing should terrify me. When you’ve spent years witnessing violence against the people around you, not to mention against yourself, you get desensitised to it.

Zayn had always treated me and his other employees with respect. Almost everyone who worked here had a shitty past they were trying to escape. We were a family. A strange, dysfunctional one, but a family all the same. That was the atmosphere Zayn and Liza always fostered amongst the staff.

I wasn’t interested in relationships full stop. No one needed my damage, nor did I want to feel like a burden. I was happy alone, working here where I’d found safety in sex work. Where I’d rebuilt myself from the ground up. I still had a few old wounds left to heal, but I was moving forward. That’s what mattered the most.

Turning around, I walked out of the staff room and back into the club. I wasn’t going to let this little incident ruin my night. He could go fuck himself. I didn’t give a shit if he’d been stabbed in the hand. He wasn’t worth my time.

“As loath as I am to admit this, you’re far more qualified to run the mafia than I am. The men know you. They will follow you far more willingly than me.”

He reached out and placed a hand on my shoulder. Because Zayn and I were close and family, I allowed it. If someone I didn’t know put their hands on me, I would have them on the ground with my boot to their back faster than they could say hello.

It was something I didn’t like thinking about because it made me feel. I didn’t like to feel. It made life harder for me.

I didn’t realise my brother had that much faith in me. Our father certainly hadn’t. He might have treated me like his heir in place of Zayn, but it didn’t mean he appreciated the way I was. Probably why I’d kept my true self hidden under a mask of indifference for so long. It was the only way to survive Gennaro Villetti.

“No. I want you to do whatever it takes to make sure our family remains on top. It’s the only way to keep us all safe.”

I wasn’t sure who I was now my father was gone, nor who I wanted to be, but I could do this.

The older members wouldn’t take kindly to this situation, but I would have to make sure they knew who they answered to.

Well, fuck them. If I’m going to do this, I’ll make sure I remain on top.

I’d deal with the older ones first. If they followed me, the rest of them would get with the program.

“What I want is irrelevant.” I turned my head slightly. “I’m a Villetti. This is what we do. It’s all I’ve ever known.”

What I’d said was the truth. All I’d ever known was the mafia. It was all I was good at. Zayn didn’t understand that part of my life because he hadn’t wanted anything to do with it.

Gennaro Villetti had turned me into an efficient and brutal killer. One who wouldn’t hesitate to deal with any threat to keep us on top.

The silent but deadly son.

I know you…

As far as I was concerned, the fucker deserved it after touching this girl. She shouldn’t be harassed by anyone. This was her place of work. Zayn took their safety seriously. It’s why I’d intervened in the first place. His bouncers had seemed busy. I didn’t want it to escalate for her sake.

“I didn’t get a proper chance to thank you for what you did.” She didn’t need to thank me. It was the right thing to do. I didn’t like being given praise or compliments for being a decent human being.

To be honest, I didn’t even know why I was still here talking to her. There was so much for me to do and think about, but my feet remained in place and my mouth didn’t tell her goodbye.

I could admit she was an attractive girl with a pretty face. I didn’t find myself attracted to her, but it wasn’t anything new for me. It was rare I found anyone interesting. It didn’t stop me from being intrigued by her.

I’d known Edric Russell since I was a teenager. His father was a minor member of the mafia, but as we were the same age, he was often in my company. He was the loud one out of the two of us. Always getting up in people’s faces, rarely backing down from a fight, and regularly getting in trouble. That was my chestnut-haired friend. I was constantly shaking my head at his antics, but he was loyal to a fault. Probably why I let him stick around me for so long. Now, I would need his loyalty more than ever. “I’m promoting you to my second-in-command effective immediately,”

“Are you sure about this, Gil?” “Don’t question me in front of them,” I murmured under my breath. Edric straightened immediately, his back going rigid.

His standards were sky high. I’m not sure I ever really met them.

“We aren’t here to discuss my brother,” I told him, keeping my voice calm. “I’m in charge now, and I expect you to respect my position.”

Matteo’s mouth dropped open. I’d never spoken to him that way in my life. To be honest, I kept silent for the most part. Speaking out against my father wasn’t worth the hassle. It was easier to fly under the radar and do as you were told. Now, they were going to learn I wasn’t going to take it easy on them if they stepped out of line.

Not only had the piece of shit disrespected my brother, but he’d also been unwilling to listen to me. I didn’t have time or the inclination to deal with him any further. He was better dead than alive to me at this point. If anyone else wanted to mouth off at me, they would meet the same fate. They should all know better. I was Gennaro’s most ruthless killer, after all. When Papá wanted to make an example of someone, he gave them to me.

And he’d told me in no uncertain terms I was to “make an effort” with her. It wasn’t like I was going to ignore his girlfriend or anything, but he knew I wasn’t good at making friends.

“Just ‘okay’?” Zayn asked, looking down at her with a frown. “Your family is kind of intense.”

I wasn’t sure I even wanted to know in all honesty. Their dynamic was… interesting, to say the least.

I looked down at the table, trying my best not to smile. I wouldn’t tell Zayn I liked his girlfriend because she was blunt to a fault. I preferred people who were honest and upfront. I didn’t have to interpret their intentions.

I almost glared at him for touching me. Why couldn’t people respect my personal space?

“You want to talk to her? You do realise this is a sex club, not a therapist’s office, right?” This was probably the most embarrassing situation I’d ever been in. I wasn’t interested in doing anything sexual with Theia. I merely wanted to see her. I wanted something to take my mind off everything that had happened in the past twenty-four hours and the shitshow my life was turning into.