Change 2

Jasmine

I’m ready to throw in the towel. My feet are aching, and we’re so busy, it’s a joke. My step-dad insists I work this bar to pay for my keep, as he calls it. I’m eighteen years old, and I

shouldn’t be working in a club. For one, it is illegal under the age of twenty-one, but everything my step-father does is illegal. And, for two, it’s so short-staffed and I’m not even getting paid.

At least it won’t be long until I move out from under his roof. As soon as summer is over, I’ve got a paid job as an intern starting at a local paper. The intention is to put the first month’s pay cheque down on a deposit for my own place. Finally break away from a life around these kind of people—criminals.

Alex married my mother when I was eleven years old, and we moved in with him. He’s a low-life criminal who makes his money dealing drugs, on top of running this rundown club. My mother died last year after an overdose on the drugs he constantly supplied her. Ever since her death, Alex has treated me worse than ever, acting like a complete an utter asshole. “Jasmine,” Ethan mutters my name, breaking me from my thoughts. His face is pale, and his lips in a serious, straight line that sends a wave of dread through me. He’s never serious. “There’s a Romano here to see your step- dad. I’ve got to go and get him.” He gives me an apologetic look. “You’re

going to have to hold the fort for a few minutes. I’ll hurry back.”

I sigh heavily, nodding. “Fine, just be quick.” I’m not sure what I’m more worried about, the fact that a Romano member is sitting at the bar, or that I’ve got to serve all these people myself.

The Romano Mafia is infamous. They run the entire east-coast of America. I wonder what lackey has been sent to talk to Alex, my step-dad. “A vodka on ice, please, sweetheart,” a man says, breaking my daze.

I give him a nod. “Of course, coming right up.”

I grab the bottle of vodka off the back shelf, turning around and scanning the clients at the bar. The moment I see him, I almost drop the bottle on the floor. There’s no doubting who he is—Kane Romano.

I’ve never seen him in person before, but those tattoos on his neck and left arm are unmistakable. Everyone talks about the hardened and brutal right-hand man and brother of mob boss Rick Romano. Kane wouldn’t visit someone unless the person has pissed off the mob.

What kind of shit has Alex gotten himself into now?

His rippling muscles are barely contained in the tight, white shirt he’s wearing, making my mouth water. Kane Romano may be dangerous, but he’s the most stunning man I’ve ever seen in my life. I’ve never seen a man so powerful and muscular. Not to mention, those beautiful dark eyes that you just want to drown in.

I should know, as I’m holding his gaze like I don’t know who he is. I’m not sure why I’m not cowering away from him like the rest of the people here, especially considering the way the power rolls off of him—it’s enough to make anyone quake in their boots.

Perhaps, it’s because I’m too scared to move, or maybe it’s just that he’s looking at me in a way that sends an exciting thrill through my body. I’ve got a feeling it’s the latter. This man makes me hot from just a stare, and I kind of like it.

As far as I’m aware, he’s a year younger than my step-dad, forty-four years old. He doesn’t look his age, though. I let my gaze dip again to the tattoo on his neck, which sprawls up the side of his head—it’s a piece of art. My knees shake at the thought of him taking me to bed and fucking me.

I bite my bottom lip, realizing that’s ridiculous. I’m a virgin and something tells me Kane would be anything but gentle.

Why the hell does that thought send a thrill racing through me?

“Sweetheart, what the fuck is the hold up with my vodka?” The guy who ordered shouts.

I shake my head. “Sorry, coming right up.” I step back to the bar and pour the guy a glass, before passing it to him.

“Next time get on with it, and do what you’re paid to do, whore.”

I ignore the insult, biting back the retort on the tip of my tongue that I don’t even get paid for this shit. I give him a short nod. “That will be five bucks, please.”

He shakes his head. “No fucking way, I’m not paying for this shit after you made me wait, bitch.”

I clench my jaw, trying not to let him get to me. There’s always one asshole every single night, and this guy is being a class fucking example. Sure, I took a little too long with his drink order, but you can’t use that as a reason not to pay. “Sorry, sir, but I’m not at liberty to offer you a free drink, and I’ll need you to pay the five dollars owed.”

He knocks back the drink and then smirks. “What drink?”

I look between the glass and the guy, wondering if it is even worth the fucking hassle, all to fill my step-dad’s pockets. One shot of vodka isn’t worth making a fuss over. With a heavy sigh, I reach for the radio attached to my belt. I’ll let him go without paying, but I’ll have to have him kicked out for this.

My heart skips a beat as Kane appears behind the guy, staring right at me with an intensity that makes me weak at the knees.

He pins me with his intense dark eyes, and I freeze to the spot. His hand falls heavily on the asshole’s shoulder. “Pay the woman,” he commands in a deep, baritone voice that makes my panties wet.

It would figure that his dark and powerful looks are matched with an equally powerful voice. It’s ridiculous how much of a turn on it is.

The guy spins around. “Who the fuck do you think—” He stops speaking the moment he sees who is behind him, turning back to the bar.

All the blood has drained from his face, as he pulls out a twenty-dollar bill. He shoves it into my hand so fast I almost can’t believe he moved that quick. “Keep the change.” His face is pale and he looks like he might pass out any moment.

Kane’s eyes remain fixed on me for a few beats, making my heart pound faster and my palms sweat. His dark eyes are almost black in the dim light of the club, and there’s something else, other than danger, sparking in his eyes.

It looks like a fierce hunger that makes my thighs quiver and my panties dampen, which is utterly ridiculous. Yes, he’s gorgeous, and his voice is like a damn butter, but he’s Kane fucking Romano. The guy is bad news.

He lets go of the asshole’s shoulder, turning to walk back to his stool calmly, as if nothing happened.

What the hell was that all about?

I watch him as he sits with such self-assured confidence back in his seat, gripping hold of his glass. Everyone’s eyes are on him. In fact, ever since Ethan went to get Alex, it’s been thinning out considerably by the bar, which I’m thankful for. I’m pretty sure Kane’s presence is the reason.

The pure danger oozing from him sends people running for the hills. Three words was all it took from him to get that guy to pay. To be honest, he could have stood there without saying a word, and the guy would have still got the message.

Why would he help me?

Ethan returns, eyes slightly wide. He walks straight toward me, ignoring Kane who is watching him through narrowed eyes. “Jasmine, we’re in the shit. Alex wants you downstairs now.” He runs a hand through his thick black hair. “He’s planning an escape.”

My brow furrows. “That makes no sense,” I hiss. “You can’t run from the freaking Romano family, they run the entire east-coast.”

He shrugs. “Look, he wants you down there now, I’m just delivering the message.”

“Who’s going to tend the bar?” I ask.

He shrugs. “He has no intention of getting me out of here with him.” There’s pure fear in his eyes and my stomach churns at the thought of leaving my best friend here.

If we leave him here, we’re leaving him to a death sentence, or worse. They may decide to torture him for information about my step-dad. “I’ll go and speak to him and make him see sense.” I shake my head. “You don’t run from the Romano family unless you have a death wish.”

He nods. “Well, good luck. The guy is set on escaping.” “I’ll see you in a few minutes.”

Ethan looks unconvinced, turning to tend to the bar.

My gaze instinctively goes to Kane who is watching me. His eyes still narrowed, signaling he suspects something is up. I feel sick to the stomach. The guy isn’t stupid and probably deals with idiots like my step-dad on a regular basis. He has asked to see Alex, and Ethan has returned without him. It won’t take long for him to put the pieces together.

I break his gaze and keep my eyes glued to the floor, making my way out of the side of the bar and walking toward the basement doors. A chilling sensation sweeps over my neck, and I know he’s following me. I don’t even have to check behind me.

I make it to the swing doors and hesitate a moment. I’m leading this man right to my step-dad, but if he has gotten on the wrong side of the Romano Mafia, running is the last thing he should do. With one quick push, I force open the door and then glance back toward the bar.

Kane is following me calmly. His two men flanking him a few meters behind. His eyes burn a hole right through me, sending a shiver down my spine.

This is only going to end one way–with blood running from this club. I can only hope it isn’t mine.

What has Alex done?