Read Mine Online

Authors: Stacey Kennedy

Mine (8 page)

BOOK: Mine
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Ryder's smile turned devilish. “You mentioned a submissive of yours. Have you gone official?”

Dmitri nodded. “I have. Her name is Presley Flynn.”

“Wouldn't have expected you to become locked down.” Darius came around the table to give Dmitri a manly smack on the back. “Good for you.”

Dmitri glanced around at the hands of the men, then mused, “Since I don't see any rings on your fingers, I take it that you're all still the famous four bachelors of San Francisco?”

“Stupid fucking magazines,” Ryder bit out, pushing in his chair under the table. “You think they would have something better to print.”

Gabe gave a brazen grin. “I enjoy the fan mail.”

“Of course you do.” Darius moved to the door with a steady gait and turned to Gabe when he reached the door. “You spend a half an hour in the mirror every morning.”

“And never go home to an empty bed.” Gabe smirked.

Masculine laughter filled the room as Micah opened the door. “Believe me, Dmitri, committed relationships aren't our thing.”

“Right. What did I read in that magazine…?” Dmitri paused for dramatic effect. “San Francisco's four eligible bachelors are nothing more than playboys who leave broken hearts in their wake.”

“Please,” Gabe said with a snort. “I've never left a woman unsatisfied.”

Darius rolled his eyes, striding toward Dmitri. “It's amazing when those trashy magazines actually get something right.”

“They are a pain in my ass,” Ryder put in, exiting into the hallway. “It's my job to stay under the radar.”

Dmitri gave a nod of understanding. He'd rather hate that exposure himself. As he followed Ryder out of the conference room, he recalled a time when he had been like these men, living on the edge and playing with as many women as he could. Now there was only one woman on his mind and in his heart.

He missed Presley. Deeply.

The sound of someone clearing his throat drew Dmitri back from his thoughts. He realized that all the Dominants' eyes were on him.

Micah chortled. “Now, that looks like a man in love.”

Dmitri smacked Micah's back. “You think you've got it good now. Just wait until a woman drops you onto
your
knees.”

“Not in this lifetime.” Micah arched a defiant brow. “Locked down is not for me.”

Dmitri could only smile in return, thinking there would come a time when Micah would eat those words.

Chapter 7

The plane touched down in Vegas at nine o'clock at night. Stomach full, and pleased by the meeting with the DC, Dmitri headed down the stairs of the private jet. Once on the tarmac, he drew the dry air into his lungs and fired off a text to Miles:
Need to meet. My office? Now?

Waiting for a response from Miles, he walked over to where he'd left his car in the small airport's parking lot. Steps away from his sports car, a beep drew his attention back to the phone's screen.

Miles responded:
Be there in fifteen.

With next steps taken care of, Dmitri scrolled through his contacts until he reached the security department of Aces. Tension rode his shoulders as he hit call and pressed the phone to his ear. The night guard answered on the second ring. “Craig, it's Dmitri. Miles Sanchez will be arriving at Aces in fifteen minutes. Please allow him access to my office.”

“Of course, sir,” Craig replied.

“Thank you.” Dmitri ended the call and shoved his phone into his pocket.

Not wasting any time, he got into his car and booked it across the city. Though the night was clear, the city's lights stole the view of the stars. Strain, hope, and concern made him drive faster than he had in some time. The car purred in pleasure.

Once he reached the casino, which featured a facade reminiscent of ancient Roman architecture, he took a hard left, pulling into the front. Urgency swirled inside him as he drove along the right side of the building and entered the underground parking area. The sounds from the muffler echoed throughout the parking garage until he pulled into the last spot on the right.

In no time, he was in the elevator and on his way to the offices on the third floor of Aces. When the door chimed open, Dmitri spotted Miles, leaning against the empty receptionist desk, folded arms emphasizing his thick, six-foot-five body.

“Thank you for meeting me so quickly,” Dmitri said, suddenly feeling like this day had been one of the longest of his life. Hell, the past couple of days seemed like a lifetime—not anything he ever wanted repeated.

“Not a problem.” Miles regarded Dmitri with his stern dark eyes. “What's up?”

Dmitri motioned Miles forward, and the other man followed Dmitri into the office at the end of the hallway. Low lights remained on throughout the offices, even though the business day was long over. When Dmitri entered his office the motion sensors kicked in, turning on the lights, and Dmitri moved to his desk, taking a seat.

Once Miles sat down across from him, Dmitri said, “I have a proposal for you.”

Miles ran a hand through his shaggy brown hair, displaying the dragon tattoo on his forearm that marked him a Master of Club Sin. “What type of proposal?”

The reminder of the dungeon, and the symbol behind the tattoo, only made Dmitri more confident in his next steps. “What would you think of opening a nightclub here in Vegas?”

Miles brows shot up. “A nightclub?”

“The club would be a front for a new Club Sin.” Excitement bounced through him. “We need a more secure location. The house has been compromised, and that's not something that I'll allow to happen again.”

He paused, letting Miles process what he was hearing, then continued. “You have said that you wanted to find something new in regard to a business venture. Something exciting and fresh. And I wondered if you'd be interested in investing in and being the sole owner of the nightclub.”

“I'm not uninterested.” Miles considered Dmitri with a curious glance. “But explain.”

Dmitri set to doing exactly that, sketching out what the members of the DC had successfully achieved. “We find a safe location for the dungeon. What I'm thinking is that we'll use the main floor as a high-class nightclub. Top-notch. Luxurious.” Spotting the pinch of concern rushing along Miles's expression, Dmitri added, “I can personally front the money as a silent investor.” He hesitated, then felt it necessary to add, “Club Sin was created in honor of Charles, and I don't want to forget that. I want the dungeon to run in the same manner that we saw in Club Sin, but I also want to distance myself from it.”

“Understandable.” Miles inclined his head in agreement. “But let me ask you this: how can a nightclub also be the location of a private and exclusive BDSM dungeon?”

“It's actually an ideal location.” Dmitri had thought it out as he traveled back from San Francisco to Las Vegas. A nightclub was a perfect front—and he knew of a club that was currently on the market and in a prime location. “It explains why people come and go late into the night, perhaps dressed in sexy clothing. Of course, we'll have to create a rule that states no lingerie until visitors have cleared security. And I think it only makes sense to have the dungeon area soundproofed.”

Miles's brows drew together in concentration. “Okay, I can see how this plan makes sense. Next thing is, how will you ensure that no one who's not authorized gains access to the dungeon?”

“We'll have an area that to the public seems like a VIP area but in fact will be the spot where we have the door to access the dungeon. Meaning that only Club Sin members can gain access to that area. We can hire security for the entrance to the dungeon and have two security checkpoints on the way into the private area of the club. In fact, I've received some advice tonight that pointed me in the direction of a security company known to work with politicians.”

Miles snorted. “And that's important because they are their own brand of trouble?”

“Not necessarily,” Dmitri countered. “But because they are known to keep damaging stories under wraps and away from the public. Besides, someone I trust runs this company. Someone who would ensure this matter is taken seriously.”

The silence between them hinted that Miles wanted to know whom Dmitri had gone to see today, but he let it go and said merely, “Let me get this straight. The main idea is that you are simply a silent partner in the nightclub. If the dungeon is exposed, the hit would land on me?”

Dmitri nodded. “As long as you don't mind holding the responsibility of this, then I think it's our only choice.”

“Nah, like I said before, I don't care.” An inner light slowly began to form in Miles's dark eyes. “Running a nightclub, hmmm?”

Dmitri waited for Miles's decision, not pushing him either way.

Miles finally said, “While I am intrigued by this idea, I don't know anything about running a bar.”

“Luckily, I am well acquainted with many in the clubbing industry because of the casino. We could hire managers who would run the show. You would be the CEO, nothing more, nothing less.” Dmitri lifted a hand to Miles's shoulder. “I know you like a good party. I also know you've been looking for something else to do with your life. This place would have your stamp on it. You would be in complete control.”

Miles grinned. “Well then, we both know how much I like control.”

—

An hour later, and exhausted to his bones, Dmitri strode through the long lavish hallway of the casino's hotel. A dark red carpet led past white doors with gold handles. His steps were heavy and slow, and he shoved his hands into his pockets, attempting to ease the emotion coiled inside him. Tonight he needed to explain to Presley what had happened, but he remained hesitant. While he had resolved most of the issues so far, he still had a few more loose ends to tie up. Everything needed to be settled, so that she wouldn't feel obliged to take responsibility for any of it. Perhaps he could tell her half-truths, merely letting her know that the person behind the threatened exposure had been bought off.

His conversation with Micah still echoed in his head. He loved Presley, loved her with everything that he was. Dmitri sensed a sudden peace wash over him. The biggest problems were settled. Miles was considering Dmitri's offer to open a nightclub. And Steven was no longer a threat; Dmitri had checked on the flight home and seen that the funds had been transferred into Steven's account. Dmitri wouldn't miss the money; the relief that this was over meant more. He hadn't realized how much responsibility the club was on him. How much he thought about the members on a daily basis. How much they affected his life.

Now he thought only of Presley, and it refreshed him.

When he reached the end of the hallway, he pulled the key card from his pocket. As he opened the door and stepped into the living room, he called, “Presley.”

Silence.

Confused, he moved to the bedroom, and that's when his perfectly controlled emotions began to unwind. The closet doors were open and Presley's clothes were gone. He heard the click of the front door opening behind him, and as he hurried back into the living room he spotted Kyler entering the suite.

“Where's Presley?” he demanded.

“She's at Aidan's,” Kyler replied, shutting the door behind him.

Rapid thoughts spun in Dmitri's mind. He grasped the table next to him, feeling weak-kneed and winded. “Has she left me?”

“She's devastated.” Kyler took a seat on the couch, only then sliding his glance to Dmitri. “Miles texted a bit ago indicating that you were back in Vegas, so I thought it best to come and let you know what's going on.”

Dmitri dropped into the chair in front of Kyler, running his hands through his hair. Words escaped him.
She's left me?
Of all the scenarios he had expected to come home to, this hadn't been among them. He shut his eyes, cursing his decision not to take out his frustrations on Steven. The man deserved worse.

Beyond that, the blame rested on Dmitri's shoulders. In wanting to protect Presley, he'd driven her away. He'd thought he'd taken large strides toward resolving the situation, only to discover that something else had unraveled.

Kyler finally broke the silence. “The decision to leave you is not making her happy. Do not doubt that.”

Dmitri lifted his head, staring at his closest friend. Presley had done this to make a statement. To make it clear that she wouldn't allow Dmitri to shut her out. Yet little did she know he hadn't been pushing her away to hurt her; he'd done so to protect her. “This whole fucking thing is exhausting,” he admitted.

“I know.” Kyler crossed his ankle over his knee. “Are club matters resolved now?”

“Most of them.” Dmitri ran his hands over his face, hating the shake in his hands. “I should have some definite news in a couple of days.” He dragged his fingers through his hair again, wondering what in the hell to do now. Of course, he could go to Presley and explain all that had happened. But the damage was done—he
had
put her second. Even if Dmitri couldn't have stopped it or controlled this mess, he had put others before her.

That could never happen again.

For so long, Club Sin had been his life, and he'd accepted that responsibility. Just as Sawyer had seen with Chloe, Dmitri saw now that to get Presley back, he had to change. Things had to change. And they
were
changing—the knowledge that soon the club would be a responsibility shared between him and Miles, and not just his alone, lifted a huge weight off Dmitri's shoulders.

“Good. I'm glad this shit is over,” Kyler grumbled, drawing Dmitri's gaze. “What are you going to do about Presley?”

Dmitri paused, considering. Ideas rushed through his mind, everything from going to Aidan's right now and bringing her home to groveling until she forgave him. But deep down it wasn't enough. “I need a week to fix all this.”

Eyes tight, Kyler warned, “Dmitri—”

He raised his hand, unable to think of the now, thinking only of the future. Seven days was a blip in time compared to a lifetime. “I need a week,” he repeated. “Please watch over her until then.”

Kyler's stern gaze burned into Dmitri's for a moment before his expression softened. “You know that I will. But take this as the warning it is.” He leaned forward, dead serious. “You might not have her if you wait any longer to make this right between you.”

Heart aching in his chest, Dmitri sighed with the longing he felt not having her close. “I am well aware of that. But this is the right thing to do.” He stared at his friend, willing him to understand. “Whatever you need to tell her to get her to understand, please do that. I need time.” Time to get everything under control. Time to get his fucking priorities straight. Time to right all these wrongs, so that Presley would never feel second again.

He had made mistakes.

He wouldn't repeat them.

Kyler regarded Dmitri curiously as the glow from the lamp cast a soft light over the side of his face, then he gave a firm shake of his head. “I don't pretend to understand your play here.”

“My only play is keeping this from hurting her further.” Dmitri rested his arms on his legs, lacing his fingers. “I haven't found a new home for Club Sin yet, and you know Presley—she'll think it's her fault that the club closed.” Until he and Miles sealed the deal by buying a club, this remained an open wound. “She knows what this has done to me. Christ, she experienced my loss of control.” He realized how she'd interpret all of this. “She'll think that the reason I haven't been talking to her is because I'm angry at
her
.” He leveled a hard look at Kyler. “Will she understand? Will she believe me that that is not the case?”

Kyler drew in a long, deep breath and gave a slight nod. “But you need to be aware that this time you're taking could put more distance between you two, a distance that you might not be able to reverse.”

“That's not a situation I'll accept,” Dmitri growled, possession rising within him. “If I go to her now, before this is all settled, she'll take the blame on herself, and she doesn't deserve to be blamed for something that none of us have been able to control. Until this is settled and I have a plan to show her that things are fine and that I will no longer put her second, this is how it must be.”

BOOK: Mine
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