Twisted Lies (Dirty Secrets) (6 page)

Expanding from selling in posh boutiques, including Tabitha’s and Cisco’s, to going full throttle in department stores was a scary position. Frankly, I was comfortable with selling my clothing in small venues and making a name for myself with my signature street-smart style.

But Lily was right. Being
comfortable
wasn’t enough anymore. It was time for me to expand, and I was ready—well, almost ready. I needed financing to help me manufacture my new line or my dream would die. I was slowly digging myself out of a ton of debt, so no bank would ever give me a loan. So I had been floored and excited when Tabitha called me. She’d been practically giddy that one of her business connections would provide financing in exchange for a small percentage of my future profits. The ink hadn’t even dried on the business contract when two million dollars was deposited into my business account with the promise of another million in six months.

Can I really do this?

I took a cleansing deep breath, refusing to go down the destructive path of self-doubt. This was a very exciting time in my life. I should be jumping up and down from the lucky turn of events that had changed my life for the better, but instead, I was focused on all the things that could turn it all to dust.

I was finally standing outside the nondescript warehouse. It was a tricky place to find on a little street with minimal signage.
Shit, if it wasn’t for the big, beefy man positioned in front of the entrance, I would have bypassed it completely.
With interest, I watched as a couple practically pawed at each other while strolling up to the bouncer, who promptly turned them away. Frowning, I strutted up to the burly guy blocking the club’s entrance.

“Sin Michaels,” I said while simultaneously handing him my ID.

He scanned my ID through a device attached to his tablet. He smiled as his eyes focused on my ample breasts.

I snapped my fingers. “Hey! Up here.”

He leered in a simply icky way that said he didn’t give a shit before glancing down at his tablet. “The rest of your party isn’t here yet, but you can go in.” He gestured toward my wrist and then placed a black-and-gold wristband around it.

I arched a brow.

He winked. “It lets the guests know you’re not interested in playing. As hot as you are, sweetness, you’re going to need it just to keep them off you.” He stepped aside. “Welcome to The McKay Club.”

I snorted. He’d said
The McKay Club
like it was a religious shrine. Everyone knew about The McKay Club. It was part of a chain of private clubs owned by the wealthy New York City recluse and business mogul, Core McKay. According to insiders, all his clubs were invite-only playgrounds for the elite, rich, and kinky to indulge in discreet liaisons, allowing all their freaky fantasies to come true.

Why the fuck would anyone want to have a business meeting in a fetish club?

The rhythm of the music slammed into my body like a sledgehammer as I stepped over the threshold. Each thump felt like a nail sinking into my head, awakening the migraine I was fighting to suppress. All I wanted to do was go home, put on my comfy yoga pants, and pass out from sheer exhaustion. Scanning the dark corners of the room, McKay’s looked more like a lavish penthouse than a club. The decor was strangely sensual and intimate with oriental motifs, bamboo screens, and paintings dotting the walls throughout.

My gaze wandered to the bouncer standing guard before an entrance draped with expensive-looking fabric. He stepped aside, giving way to the men and women flashing their ink-black wristbands. Probably a room where all the freaky sexual debauchery happened. I was so not interested.

I sighed, deliberately walking up to the bouncer blocking the entrance. He pointed to my wristband. “Sorry. This area is invite only.”

I scoffed. “I don’t—”

My tirade was interrupted by a tap on my shoulder. Annoyed, I looked over my shoulder, almost biting my tongue when I locked eyes with the gorgeous man staring at me with more than a little interest.

“Are you going in?” he asked with a smooth baritone voice.

“What?” I croaked before clearing my throat. “No. I’m not.”

“Well, that’s a shame.” He winked at me before showing the bouncer his wrist and pushing aside the fabric. He strode through without a second glance. Curious, I tried to get a glimpse of the area through the slit of the closing curtain.

The bouncer rudely snapped it shut. “Like I said, invite only.”

Pursing my lips, I asked, “How do I get to the rooftop bar?”

He pointed over to the discreetly placed elevator, and I made a beeline toward it. The trip up to the roof took mere seconds, and the doors slid open to reveal women carrying high-end purses and lots of men in suits and ties. I could almost smell the money wafting through the air. Just when I thought the rooftop was the PG version of downstairs, I saw the semi-nude bodies gyrating and reenacting a porn movie on the dance floor.

Inching through the crowd, I made my way toward the bar. I just wanted to get this meeting over with and leave. Ignoring the interested stares from men and women who were more focused on my legs than their drinks, I reached my objective.

I beckoned the bartender, requesting a, “Dry gin martini.”

He nodded and walked away.

I scoffed at the smoldering gaze of a pretty boy who looked like he’d stepped out of a fashion magazine. His hair was too perfectly styled, and his clothing had come straight off the runway. I rolled my eyes when he stopped in front of me, smiling with bleached teeth that nearly blinded me. He wasn’t remotely close to my type—too sweet-looking. I liked my men hard and edgy with tattoos decorating every inch of their exposed, muscled bodies.

He glanced down at my bracelet and then up to my breasts, like he wanted to ask them out on a date. “Hello.”

I frowned.
Pretty boy was aiming too high.

Holding up my hand in his face, I said, “No. Just no. Okay?”

Thankfully, he shrugged before walking away, probably deciding I wasn’t worth the effort or the embarrassment.

The bartender slid the martini between my fingers. After picking up the glass, I sipped the drink as I watched Tabitha sway toward me, looking as gorgeous as ever in a head-to-toe black ensemble that accented her sensuous body. Beside Jade, Tabitha was my favorite person. She was a talented designer and my mentor. Behind her polished veneer of Tabitha Thorp, celebrity designer, only I knew that she had grown up in the rough streets of Brooklyn,
doing things she wasn’t really proud of
—her words, not mine. I wanted to know what those things were, but she wouldn’t share the gossip about that part of her life, so I’d just left it alone.

“Hey, Tabi! I can’t stop drooling over your outfit,” I said cheekily.

Tabitha kissed me on my cheek. “That’s precious. The designer is salivating over her own design.” She nudged me with her elbow. “Yes, oh queen of fashion, you are so great. Let’s all dance around and bask in your creative hotness.”

I smiled. “Okay, yes, I was fishing for compliments. You don’t have to rub it in.”

Tabitha eyed me. “What the hell are you wearing?”

I batted my eyes innocently. “Huh?”

“You lied. You said it wasn’t finished. I want it. Take it off now.”

“You like?” I looked coyly at her. “I’m bringing booty back.” I nodded toward the crowded dance floor. “Go run and tell them skinny bitches.”

The black leather dress was super short in the front and longer in the back, flaring out around my curvy hips. The skintight corset pushed up my ample breasts while cinching my narrow waist.

“I just finished it today, and I wanted to take it for a twirl—you know, show the people what I’m working with.” I smiled saucily.

This was my freak-’em dress, and from the way the men’s eyes were following me, I hadn’t lost it. More importantly, once I added it to my collection, it would fly off the rack.

Tabitha’s smirk disappeared. I knew she spotted the shadows under my eyes.

“Sin, you’re working too hard. You need to take a break, have a bit of relaxation. How about that vacation you said you and Jade were going on?”

I rolled my eyes. “Any vacation with Jade wouldn’t be relaxation. It would be a nonstop party, and I don’t have the strength for that right now. Besides, I have a whole collection to design.”

Tabitha’s pouty lips pursed. “You have to rest, Sin. You’re driving yourself into the ground.”

My face tightened. “Well, that’s cute—advice coming from the president of the workaholic club. No, thanks. I have a lot of work to do. Speaking of work, I left early to attend this meeting.” I pressed forward. “So where’s my investor?” My lips pursed with displeasure.

I really hated the word
investor
. It was too mysterious, and not in a good way. Knowing the rough crowd she did business with, it was damn near sinister.

“He just called me. He can’t make it. He has a business deal to wrap up, but his partner, Ram Steele, will be coming in his place.”

I glowered. “He called an emergency meeting and then doesn’t show? Sounds like some bullshit to me.”

Tabitha shrugged. “He’s a very busy man.”

Staring at her like she’d lost her mind, I responded. “And I’m not? What’s with all this mystery?” I hissed. “Why can’t I know his damn name?”

Tabitha’s eyes hardened. “Darling, the less you know, the better. Believe me.”

My hands tightened around the glass stem.
Shit! That’s exactly what I’m afraid of.

“Sin, I swear to you he’s legit. I wouldn’t get you involved if he wasn’t.”

I stared at her with disapproval.

Tabitha sighed heavily. “Sin, you can’t have it both ways. You asked me to find an investor, and I did. You got the money. Isn’t that all that matters now?”

Is it?

Frankly, I didn’t know, but I did know I wouldn’t be able to complete my collection without the investor.

My body slowly relaxed. “You’re right.” I sighed heavily while tapping my fingers against the glass. “I guess I’m anxious about why he wanted to meet me. Shit, it’s been several months since he gave me the money, and he hasn’t met me once. Why does he want to meet now?” My eyes widened. “Is he concerned about my business being able to make a profit?”

Tabitha shrugged. “Don’t know. I didn’t ask.”

I arched a brow. “You didn’t ask?”

“He’s not exactly the type of man that you question. He orders, and you do it. That’s it.”

My brows furrowed with concern. “Oh God.” I gulped my drink.

He was a control freak. This was going to be a mess if he wanted to now step in and micromanage the way I ran my business.

Squished by the mounting crowd, Tabitha bumped me with her elbow and hip. I instantly adjusted to make room for her to lean against the bar.

“Look, there’s nothing to worry about.” She glanced around curiously. “He’s pretty much hands-off until he thinks the business isn’t going to make a profit. And your business is on the cusp of making a shitload of money. If it weren’t, believe me, he wouldn’t have given you the money in the first place.” She paused. “Be grateful, Sin. It could be worse. My investor is up my ass on every collection. Do you know what that does to the creative process?” She wrapped a hand around my waist and gently squeezed. “Sin, will you relax? Why can’t you just enjoy your success without adding drama?”

Nothing about my life had been easy, especially since I’d walked away from my mother. I’d had to fight, scratch, and crawl to get to where I was today. I knew I’d earned the right to be here, but I couldn’t help looking over my shoulder, waiting for the bubble to burst.

I took a calming breath. “God, you’re right. I’m worrying for nothing.”

Tabitha winked at me. “That’s right, baby. Now let’s order a round of martinis, toast to the good life, and hope Mr. Steele drags his ass here sooner than later, before we both get pissy drunk.”

She gestured for the bartender, but he was already heading toward us with two dry gin martinis.

“Dry gin martinis,” he said, sliding a drink each toward Tabitha and me.

“We didn’t order drinks,” I said, tapping my fingers against the bar.

He smiled beautifully. “Courtesy of the gentleman.” He nodded toward a dark-haired man leaning against the bar.

With muscles bunching against his crisp white tailored shirt, it was hard not to notice the six-foot-three man staring at me. Tilting my head, I boldly glared at him. Even among the room full of gorgeous men, he didn’t blend in with the crowd. He was hot—well, hot and scary. He didn’t even smile. In fact, he was scowling at me with menace pouring from him like a dark cloud.

Tabitha’s doe eyes widened before she cleared her throat. “Well, isn’t he yummy?” she growled, looking sideways at me with a smirk. “So are you going to go over there and thank him?”

He looked like trouble waiting to fucking happen. I lifted the martini glass to my lips, continuing to stare at my new sinful fixation.

“Nope. Just like at the zoo, I like to gawk at dangerous and beautiful creatures from afar.”

She jabbed me in the side. “For fuck’s sake, you’re licking the rim of your glass while eye-fucking him.”