Caged beauty, p.1

  Caged Beauty, p.1

Caged Beauty
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Caged Beauty


  Caged Beauty

  A. Glass

  Copyright © 2023 by Aila Glass

  All Right Reserved

  Editor: Heather E. Andrews

  Proofreader: Heather E. Andrews

  Cover Designer: Bookin' It Designs

  Cover Photo: Deposit Photos

  Copyright Notice: All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying and recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual person, living or dead, events or locals, are entirely coincidental.

  No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without written permission from the publisher or author, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law.

  Contents

  Dark Reign Session 2

  Content Note

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Epilogue

  Next Up

  Dark Reign Session 2

  More By Aila Glass

  Want a Free read?

  About A. Glass

  Dark Reign Session 2

  You’ve felt the power that the men of Dark Reign hold. Now it’s time to fall under their rule again with new men who hold their world in their hands as they find the women who make them fall to their knees.

  Power comes at a cost and these men have sacrificed their souls. They know violence, death, and how to walk in the gray, but that doesn’t mean they are without weakness. The women they love are their light and they would scorch the Earth to protect them. This December meet the men who rule their empires of crime and the women who stand by them while darkness reigns.

  Link: mybook.to/DarkReignSession2

  Content Note

  This book is a dark mafia romance which contains kidnapping, forced marriage, a cage, breeding, unprotected sex, dirty talk, guns/butter knife, violence, and sexually explicit scenes.

  Chapter 1

  Dante

  I cross my legs under the table and lean back as Michael deals the cards. Wisps of cigar smoke flow up to the ceiling where a giant chandelier dangles from a beam, illuminating the poker game. The room is dark except for this light, and I see Rico, my second in command, leaning against the doorway. The exit sign illuminates his body from above.

  I reach out and check my cards.

  Two kings.

  Looking at the table, I notice a queen, a jack of hearts, three sevens, a two of hearts. Then Michael puts down a ten of diamonds.

  When I glance up, I see all the players and observe them. Sitting next to me, Jesse is one of those people who talks with his eyes. He’s not sure he’s got a great hand. Lincoln, who sits beside Jesse, exudes cockiness. His ever-present arrogant expression leaves you uncertain whether or not he's bluffing. Massimo, my employee for years, has nothing. His lips curl down, tipping off his hand. He has the face of a man underwhelmed.

  I keep a blank expression as I push all my chips into the pot. Jesse does the same. Lincoln smirks and shakes his head before tossing his cards onto the table with his tattooed hand.

  “Fuck this,” he says. “I fold.” He leans back in his chair, folding his hands behind his head, ready to watch how this round will play out.

  Massimo folds as well, leaving Jesse and I to reveal our cards. Jesse has been on a hot streak tonight, but I’ve got a full house. Michael tells us to show our cards, and Jesse goes first. Everyone at the table is holding their breath. Sure, we’re friends, but we’re competitive and don’t like to lose.

  Jesse flips both his cards up at the same time. He’s got two tens. So, three of a kind.

  I take a deep breath and grin as I flip over my cards, revealing the two kings.

  “Full house,” I say, and the table is silent for only a second before everyone starts cheering.

  Jesse is always the man to beat. And this time, I got him.

  “Well, Jesse. I guess today is my lucky day,” I say, rubbing my bearded chin casually.

  Jesse narrows his eyes at me, but he’s smiling. He didn’t like that, but we can all accept when we’ve lost.

  Michael slides all the cards his way and starts cleaning up as Frank, one of Rico’s main security men, comes up behind me.

  Fuck. This can’t be good. These games are one of the only times we get to relax. We all have taxing jobs. That’s why no one discusses work at these things. You only get conversations about wives, food, and cars. If Frank’s interrupting us, it must be important.

  And I can think of such a thing. A few weeks ago, I discovered a man who’d come to my casino owed a ton of money. One hundred thousand dollars, to be exact. But now we can’t find him. I take a sip of scotch as Frank whispers the situation into my ear.

  “Sir, we still can’t find him. However, I looked around, and he’s got a daughter.”

  “Who is she?” I say quietly.

  “Not sure. It looks like he kept her hidden. One of Tanya’s friends works with her at one of your hotels.” Frank procures a tablet over my shoulder with a picture of the man’s daughter. She’s wearing the hotel uniform that people in my restaurants get. She’s got long dark hair tied up in a ponytail, and she’s smiling.

  “Do you want us to pick her up, Sir?” Frank asks.

  Typically, we don’t touch civilians. Women and children in particular. But Gregory Brockman is no longer a minor problem we can just whisk away. We could take her and tell Gregory that if he can’t get us the money, his daughter will have to pay the price.

  “Go to her. Get her to tell you if she knows where the old man is. If she doesn’t know… bring her to me. And make sure she is unharmed.”

  Frank nods, and I nod at Rico, who goes with him. Massimo gets up from the table and joins them.

  “Well, friends, it’s been a nice night, but I have to go.” I shake Lincoln, Michael, and Jesse’s hands.

  “Don’t want to risk giving me my money back?” Jesse jokes.

  I chuckle as I collect my winnings. “No, no. Just want to make sure you leave here with that nice watch on.”

  There’s a rumor that the expensive watch Jesse’s wearing comes from the wife of another boss. A fling that no one seems interested in hiding. It’s a stupid thing to do, but if there’s anything that Jesse’s good at, it’s not losing.

  Except for tonight, of course.

  Jesse and I slap each other’s backs in one of those bro hugs. As I’m closer to his body, I warn him about his carelessness, “She better be worth it.”

  He pulls back and winks with a grin, “Sure is.”

  Jesse and Lincoln head out through the exit door while I move out through the front.

  We play in one of the back rooms in my casino. Michael is one of the blackjack dealers, so I assume he’ll be getting back to work.

  I look at my watch, and it reads 1 a.m.

  Or maybe Michael will be getting home now.

  When I step outside, the cool breeze hits me. Las Vegas is hot almost all the time except for nights in the winter. It’s a nice break from feeling like you’ll melt any second.

  A car pulls up, and I give the valet a hundred-dollar bill and slip inside. The rumble of my Chevy Impala makes me smile as I pull onto the road past an inflatable Santa Clause.

  As I drive home, my mind goes to the dark-haired beauty, Gregory’s daughter. I hope she knows where her father is because it’ll be a shame if I have to do bad things to her. Regardless of my guilt, though, my cock stirs in my pants.

  I suppose it wouldn’t be that much of a shame. I can think of some things that’d make both of us feel good.

  Because no matter what, I will get retribution for this debt, one way or another, someone will pay.

  Chapter 2

  Serenity

  I wonder how many people have shitty fathers like mine? A father who leaves you high and dry with rent and bills to pay.

  I take a deep breath and try to keep my anger in check as I serve my customers. It’s not their fault my father bailed. To be honest, it doesn’t affect my life much. Sure, my only family is gone, but we didn’t hang out much. And he didn’t help with bills or rent.

  I knew I should’ve moved out when I had the chance. A year ago, I got a nice bonus check, and with the money I’d already saved, I could’ve gotten my own place and let him deal with his own problems. But I couldn’t leave him. It didn’t feel right.

  Which makes what he did hurt so much worse.

  After returning to the kitchen, passing one of those stupid mistletoe, to pick up another order, I lean against the wall for a short break. Catch my breath. This is a disaster. Not the least of which is that my dad had a gambling problem, and I’m not one to think he was considerate enough to clear up any debts before he high-tailed out of Vegas.

  I pinch the bridge of my nose and begin my breathing
exercises. I learned them from Camilla, one of the other waitresses. She’s going to school to become a licensed therapist, and one of her classes was teaching breathing exercises for people who deal with panic and anxiety attacks. Being one of those people, she taught them to me.

  Breathe in.

  Breathe out.

  Breathe in.

  Breathe out.

  Focus on your breath.

  I didn’t panic like this when I was a kid. It's probably because life was awesome when I was a kid. Then, when I got older it got worse. Moving, then teenage life, a dad who constantly loses jobs.

  I take one more deep breath in and out, open my eyes, and return to work. I try to forget about my troubles for the rest of the day. Instead, I focus on smiling for the customers to get more tips.

  At lunch, I sit in the break room and cry in the corner while eating my sandwich. It was as good a time as any. I need to let it all out now before my next shift. My salty tears mix with my bologna sandwich, but I don’t taste any of it. I could be eating cardboard, for all I know.

  “Oh my God,” Camilla gasps and runs over to me. “Are you okay?” She starts petting my knee after she takes a seat next to me.

  I nod and sniffle, wiping my nose with a tissue.

  “Oh, honey. Is this about your father?” she asks.

  I’ve told Camilla about my issues with my father, and she’s been nothing but kind. But I can’t burden her with all my issues.

  “I’m fine. I’m just having a bad day.”

  She doesn’t push for more. Instead, we just eat in silence.

  I touch up my makeup before returning for the rest of my shift. I work at a fancy restaurant inside a very fancy hotel. The servers wear uniforms, and we’re taught how to serve. Like putting a towel on our arm before pouring the wine. Or the way we approach a table. It’s all calculated and proper. This is opposed to when I worked at a diner where the baseline approach was just to be friendly and not spill anything on anyone. There was no fancy uniform or any wine to speak of.

  As I clean the table, I look at my watch.

  It’s time to go.

  After I finish my duties I get my bag. It’s a pretty big contrast to my uniform. My uniform is a modest pink dress with a v-neck and buttons. My bag is army green and falling apart at the seams. I don’t trust the handle anymore, so I carry it like a small dog.

  Pushing open the door, I’m greeted with a cool breeze. The temperature is lowering in Vegas, which is nice. I’m from Canada and not built for the thick Vegas heat, which we get most of the year. It’s been like this since my dad moved me out here after my parents split. I don’t recall why he chose Vegas.

  I’m a close walk to my apartment. You just have to cross to the east side of the strip, down Tropicana Avenue, and you hit my apartment building at some point. It’s a tall green rectangle one earthquake away from tipping over. I climb up the metal stairs, careful not to scratch myself on the chipped paint on the railing. Thankfully, it’s only 3 floors before I hit my place. Some people have to walk up seven floors because no one has bothered to fix the elevator.

  I push my key into the lock, and to my surprise, the door just opens. Typically, the door is a pain to open, but I guess the lock gave out. Once I enter, I close the door and lock it from the inside.

  A slight chill runs down my spine, and the hair of my neck stands up.

  Something doesn’t feel right.

  I turn slowly, and the apartment is quiet. It’s just like yesterday except for the note from my father saying he’s gone and that he’s “sorry.” I put my bag down and look through the apartment. Everything seems to be where I left it. That is, until I turn into the living room and see one man sitting in a chair and another leaning on the wall next to the window.

  Before I can scream, someone grabs me from behind and covers my mouth.

  I thrash in his arms as they lock around me. Fear takes over, and I turn into a wild animal. I scream under his hand and kick out, trying to get away. But it’s no use. As my energy leaves me, I can only breathe heavily and whimper. I look at the two men, and they haven’t moved. Just casually sitting as if this is their apartment.

  “Are you going to calm down now?” the guy in the chair asks.

  I fight a little more, and then he pulls out a gun. That makes me freeze.

  “I said, are you going to calm down?”

  I nod, and I’m slowly released. I look behind me at the asshole who grabbed me, then back at the other men. The one leaning against the wall is a very tall, muscular man with tattoos everywhere, even on his neck. He’s wearing a dark suit, just like the one in the chair. He’s more on the lankier side and has that look in his eyes that can scare even the bravest of men. And then there’s a big one behind me wearing jeans, a T-shirt, and a leather jacket.

  “What do you want?” I spit out.

  The lanky man stands up and fixes his suit, the gun still in his hand.

  “We're here for your father, Serenity.”

  Fuck, he knows my name.

  “What do you want with my father?” I ask. I try to step back, but I find myself pressed against a wall of man.

  “Tell us where he is,” he says, ignoring my question.

  “He isn’t here,” I say, trying to keep my cool, but it’s wavering with every step he takes toward me.

  “We’re not here for you, Serenity, but we have our orders. If you don’t tell us where your father is, you’re coming with us.”

  My breath hitches, and I consider lying just so I can get away. But you don’t lie to guys with guns, not in this town.

  “I-I swear,” I whimper. “I don’t know where he is.” I try to hold back my tears, but they start pouring down as the adrenaline in me declines.

  “She’s lying,” the man behind me says, and I turn to tell him I’m not when his hand collides with my face. I fall to the ground with a huge thump, clutching my eye as the pain starts to bloom across my skin.

  “What the fuck are you doing?!” the lanky man yells at the guy who hit me. “He didn’t say anything about hurting her.”

  The man who hit me starts to protest, but the other one shuts him up.

  “Get in the car and bring it to the alley. Now.” His voice is chilling, and I stay perfectly still as the man grunts and then leaves, getting angry with the lock before slamming the door behind him.

  I don’t know what to do, so I stay on the floor, staring at the carpet.

  The guy with the gun leans down next to me. I don’t want to look him in the eyes for fear of what eye contact with that man will do to me.

  “I’m afraid we have no choice, Serenity. You’re coming with us.”

  And with that, he hauls me to my feet. The man against the wall pushes away from it to join his friend. I don’t even get a chance to change out of my uniform before being hauled into a black Lincoln Continental and driven off to God knows where.

  I thought yesterday was a bad day, but this is much worse. It took all of 24 hours before my world came crashing down around me.

  I don’t know how to get out of this, but I will. I’m determined not to end up a casualty of my father’s stupidity. I hope that whoever is on the other side of this mess can see that I’m not the one for them.

  I can only hope.

  Chapter 3

  Dante

  I’m sitting in my office, looking over the record of how much money Mr. Brockman owes us. He took out other markers before. Nothing over ten grand, and always paid it back. But then, a few weeks ago, everything got worse. Brockman kept raising it until it got to over 150 thousand dollars, and he never paid it back.

  I take a sip of my scotch as some rustling sounds come from behind the giant double doors of my office. The doors open, and Rico pops in, and behind him, Tanner and Mateo are gripping a woman by her arms.

  She thrashes from side to side in their arms as they try to get a handle on her.

  I get up from my seat as the chaos continues.

  “Do you have her?” I ask, not impressed by the inability of two men twice her size to get her in control.

 
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