Taken (Sinful Series - book 1)

Violet

Violet felt too anxious to stay cooped up in her apartment. The unexplained feeling of unease in the pit of her stomach urged her to go out, to smell the fresh air, and to feel the wind in her face. No matter how much time she spent thinking about the events from last night, she still couldn’t explain why Landon had even bothered with her combative ass to begin with. Surely, he had better prospective in the club and elsewhere.

Violet aimlessly strolled the quiet afternoon streets, wondering who would try something as big as to Creed her. Her job gave her unrestricted access to different secrets and problems shifters faced. But they were absolutely harmless, personal shit everyone went through in their lives. It was certainly not enough to justify drugging her. If Violet was honest, despite her bravado she would have cracked under torture. It lead her to the interesting conclusion, her enemy, whoever they were, thought she would feed them lies. On second thought she figured out whatever they thought she knew was far more valuable if she disclosed it unwillingly. Goddess, help her, she couldn’t figure out who stood to gain the most of such leak.

Violet was surprised when she saw the neon sign of Velvet. Her feet had carried her down the familiar road to work as Violet was too busy reflecting on last night’s events. Violet sighed. Work did not sound half bad right about now. It would help her take her mind off things. She liked staying busy. Eventhough all of the excitement of the possibilities of the weekend had fizzled down to zero, she still preferred being surrounded by people. Nobody other than few regulars showed up on Monday nights. It was the slowest day of the week, closely followed by Tuesday. Even if these two nights were notoriously slow, they were needed for the business to restock and regroup for the upcoming weekend.

Violet pushed past the door, and headed towards her small office. It was not by any means a broom closet, but felt like a coffin at times when her thoughts were louder than the words. It surely didn’t help that it was soundproofed, and it was dead silent. The new stereo system had never made it this far, and Gareth, the owner of the club, had decided to use the unfinished room for Violet’s ‘private’ sessions. It was decorated with the same tacky taste as all the other rooms to support its cover, but nobody other than her used it. Neither Violet nor her clients were interested in exchange of bodily fluids, but the good old fashioned conversation. Violet took off her jacket and tossed it over the sofa, pushing her phone in the back pocket of her black pants. Monday and Tuesdays were more casual days as most of the staff took them off to sleep off the weekend madness.

Just as she was putting the magnetic pin with her name, the door opened an inch.

“Hi, Violet,” Gareth’s voice carried.

Gareth was always tactful. He would never barge in her soundproofed space. The door was intentionally hinged so it open towards the inside, obstructing the entering party’s view of the room, thus adding more to the privacy the club treasured. Whenever she had a client, she locked the door putting out the “occupied” sign outside.

“Come on in,” Violet told him.

The broad shouldered brunette closed the door behind him, leaning against the door.

“You’re a sight for sore eyes,” Gareth told her.

“Damn straight I am,” Violet chuckled. “You good, Boss?”

“Peachy,” Gareth responded smiling back at her.

“Who is it this time?” Violet asked him, taking in his worried expression.

“I hear Pack Order had been snooping around,” Gareth told her.

“Shit,” Violet commented. Whenever Pack Order decided to go on a bench checking permits of night clubs, clients took weeks to return to Velvet. It was bad for business. It didn’t matter that several Pack Order officials were regular patrons of the club. Official Pack Order business was a painful bureaucracy delivered with shitload of paperwork for both sides.

“They’ve been asking about my girls,” Gareth continued. His brown eyes conveying his message, her consulting business was in jeopardy.

“Anything I could do to help?” Violet asked. It was her way of asking him how he wanted to handle the issue.

“We’ll play it safe. But they can outlast my patience,” Gareth sighed.

“We can always market the place with the cabaret stuff the girls were working on,” Violet suggested. Bringing in revenue was the annoying part of keeping a business up float.

Gareth kept his eyes on her.

“Should I be worried, Vi?”

“They’ll move on when they find a bigger fish to fry,” Violet locked eyes with him. Pack Order were the constant threat lurking around the corner to catch up a slip up. Their presence meant nobody would get a private session with Violet if they were not properly vetted beforehand.

“Are you leaving me,” Gareth quickly asked her.

“Where is that coming from? You know, Velvet is my home,” Violet tried to make sense of his random question.

“Kids grow up and leave,” Gareth told her.

“Hey, we’re almost the same age,” Violet protested.

“Violet, I am lucky you’ve decided to be part of Velvet as its success is largely because of your talents,” Gareth covertly complimented her. Violet beamed him a smile. It felt good to be recognized. “I always thought I’d eventually lose you to your business. I’d appreciate a straight answer. Are you considering leaving me for Inferno? If so, allow me to at least try to match their offer.”

“I am not leaving Velvet. We are a lot classier here,” Violet proudly told him.

“But…”

“I went out for drinks after shift last night,” Violet started and as he was about to say something she continued, “In retrospect, I should have come here. At least our drinks are clean.”

“Clean, you mean… Shit. Does Tassone know?” Gareth asked. Violet nodded. “I will keep you company behind the bar. You stay in public all the time. Escorts even to the lady’s room. Tim or Unger?”

“I don’t need a bouncer at the door, because of a scare.” Violet argued.

“At the bar,” Gareth corrected her. Although things could get rowdy at the bar, it was seldom. More often than not the bouncers were needed to encourage a patron to leave the premises, if they had overstayed their welcome. Although Velvet was a strip club, Gareth ran a classy yet clean business.

“It’s a slow night. What’s the worst that could happen? I drink the bar dry out of boredom?”

“No dancing. No new clients.” Gareth left not room for argument.

“Fine,” Violet reluctantly agreed before someone else opened the door.

“Vi, is Gareth still here?” Marian asked keeping the door open slightly.

“He’s here. I better head out.” Violet decided to start her shift.

“Booked a private function for later tonight,” Marian words reached Violet’s ears just as she was walking out.

Violet

Private function.

Violet wanted to roll her eyes at the phrase. When the club was booked as a venue, there was one common theme – the snobby wanna-be big-shots tipped worse than a regular. These parties ran wilder than the normal jam-packed nights purely based on the exclusivity of such a booking. They expected they could do whatever they wanted as they had prepaid for the venue. More alcohol was served and consumed on nights like this, which was good for the business. But it also meant there were more people who eventually needed to be cut off. Both bouncers were called in for duty to persuade patrons to go home and sleep it off.

Of course, as in any party, there were those who poured their problems over her bar. But unlike other instances where she was eager to listen and to help, now Violet itched to tell them to grow a pair. Their problems were those of the over privileged kids who never worked a day in their life, having everything handed down to them by their parents. It was a sure way to rob them from the life-experience which either wise would have shaped them in interesting personalities. She recognized herself in so many faces. It was humbling to remember just how little she knew of the life outside Gagon’s land and how naively she had viewed love. Violet had certainly grown up over the months she had been with the Howlers.

Her mind snapped back to the present as the lights dimmed down, creating a glow around the bar, and focusing the attention to all the elaborate drinks. The music was low enough so the guests could hear each other, but loud enough to muffle any conversation from a table or two down. Lap dances and exotic performances on the main stage were already warming up the audience for what the evening could hold.

This was definitely not going to be a slow night. There were just too many drinks to shake, to stir and to serve. Her arms and hands were unbelievably tired, reminding her just how out of shape she was. Ever since the rejection, she hadn’t paid much mind to exercise and workouts. Something needed to be done. Her shifter endurance was only going to carry her so far.

When the cute brunette she just served another Martini took off his shirt, throwing it at Violet’s direction, she decided it was his last drink. She rolled her eyes at the gesture and left his shirt on the bar, in front of him. When the alcohol and bane wore off, he’d see the reasons to put it back on. His sculptured torso while aesthetically pleasing did not stir her insides as the two cerulean eyes from the night before.

June and Candice closed in on the unsuspecting patron, swaying their hips in unison and demanding the man’s attention. Violet smiled as without a doubt the two blonds working in a tandem swayed the brunette to follow them towards the private rooms.

Caching!

The mountain of muscle down the edge of the bar, tapped his shot glass against the bar, signaling for her attention. She gave him a smile and walked over.

“What can I get you?” Violet asked him.

His big arms grab the back of his shirt and pulled it over his head. She raised an eye brow at him, waiting for his order or explanation of his now shirtless state. Anything at this point of time would suffice. Instead, he smiled, blowing her a kiss. Violet grinned at the obvious display of affection towards her, giving him a slow once over while she refilled his glass.

Few other patrons caught their exchange and quickly followed the example, taking their shirts off after ordering a drink or two. Violet had to agree their bodies looked good as she could expect from shifters’ genetics. She told herself she was not staring but politely appreciating the view they were willingly offering. It was only a matter of time before the ladies of Velvet took care of all of their needs.

It wasn’t until an hour or so later that she finally saw a familiar face. Caleb stored into the club and headed directly for the bar.

“Damn, it’s hot in here,” Caleb told her eyeing all the shirtless men in the club who were walking around like proud peacocks. Caleb casually pushed himself up over the counter, leaning in to kiss her cheek. “Looking hottie-licious yourself.”

“Please,” Violet mumbled, patting his back. “What are you having?”

“Him and him,” Caleb pointed at the two guys on either side. Violet laughed. Caleb was always hilarious. It was good seeing him here. If no one grabbed his attention, she could at least count on him to help out if need be. Caleb had quickly become the girlfriend she never had. Even Casey was not as close to Violet.

“Enjoy,” Violet told him.

“I will,” Caleb wiggled his eyebrows at her. Then he peeled off his shirt revealing battle scars across his back from his days in Pack Order. Now that was how it was done – casually but so damn mysterious and intriguing. Caleb was always adaptive. He pressed a fifty on the bar, “Something sweet. Keep ’em comin’.”

“Sure thing, Suga’,” Violet winked at him as he flashed his best smile.

Gareth tapped Violet’s shoulder snatching her attention. It was their ‘wrap things up three-minute’ warning before the little performance they always did. Violet enjoyed this part of her job. Missing drinks with Gareth was something to look forward to. Their little show-off routine had little to do with the actual drinks, and a lot more to do with the excitement of the night ahead. It was a light show, where hands were not only responsible for serving alcohol in varying size, shape and color, but a hint of all the sensual things the patrons could experience in Velvet. Now that was what separated them from all other clubs. It was what sold out the venue, or jam-packed it to the brim of the fire code occupancy.

She gave Caleb the drink and then caught Gareth’s eyes. Gareth was the person who had told her everything there was to know about mixing drinks and about the power of suggestion. The hand-coordination was precise as they were tossing bottles and shakers at each other, turning their backs at each other, interweaving their hands, moving provocatively close to each other’s bodies all in the name of the cocktails they gladly served. Although they were just mixing drinks only to slide them down the bar to the awaiting hands of the patrons, they worked in unison to create the sexual tension whenever they changed places, or made one cocktail together in under a couple of seconds. A slide of hand, a little too close turn, a pivot of a finger – their movement was full of suggestion as the their bar-performance was the opening ceremony of the evening.

Then Velvet was no longer a bar lounge, but a real strip club.

Landon

Landon rubbed his chin deciding on just how to approach Violet. It had become clear he needed her help to eliminate Creed once and for all. Landon could not believe he was waiting for a she-wolf to call him back. He never sat around the phone to wait for a phone call, yet now he was fretting like a girl about what to say when she did call. Because she would call, right?

But as the hours came and went, and his cell remained silent, Landon started feeling insecurity creeping in. Why would he think she would call, when his own mate wanted nothing to do with him? Landon’s jaw clenched. He was not going to accept defeat. Noah deserved better.

One thing was clear. It had to be her choice to join his cause. Otherwise, he would be no better than Pack Order. Landon still couldn’t believe they would go as low as to creed her to recruit her. But the fact remained the same. The covert team’s focus without a doubt was on Violet. Where Pack Order could be deceiving, Landon had more clear-cut moral boundaries he would never cross. Drugging and misleading were not in his game book. But he saw nothing wrong with a little persuasion in the form of personal charisma. Landon did not want to go into semantics of whether it was actually flirting with her, teasing her or plain old playing off on the already existing sexual attraction between them. Whatever it was, it felt good. They were both adults. It was not like she didn’t enjoy stripping him with his eyes. Nope. The heated look she had given him confirmed her interest in finding a temporal solace into each other’s arms. Who was Landon to dispute such an attraction?

Then there was something about the way Jacob had spoken about Violet. The Howler’s Alpha had been nothing if not meticulously persistent in his attempt to convince Landon to become his Beta. Landon did not want to admit it, but he felt proud his ability to lead and get shit done were recognized. It was a balm for his wounded Ego that he was so feverishly sought out. It gave him a sense of accomplishment that his mate had robbed him of. In a weird way, it felt good to be wanted and needed.

Landon was not sure what to think about Violet being the only reason good enough to deter Jacob from stating his claim on Landon as his Beta. Landon was intrigued as such relationship between the widowed Alpha and a rejected she wolf, hinted of intimacy. But he knew Jacob would never allow such intimacy. The Alpha was still in love with him fated. Yet, unexplainably Jacob had somehow managed to rope Landon in promising protection to this female.

Safety was an elusive term in Landon’s line of work. Nobody was safe unless they were dead.

When his phone vibrated, Landon smirked. He swiftly looked at the illuminated screen, expecting to see a call or a message from Violet. What he didn’t expect was a message from Jacob.

“Get your ass in Velvet. Violet is selecting her bodyguard.”

Jacob’s text message gave Landon the opening he needed.

Violet

Violet was sat in the VIP lounge as instructed and steamed. She regretted her decision to listen to reason instead of following her heart’s desire to strangle Jack upon fight sight. Violet didn’t need to notice how the attention of all the shirtless males in the club focused on Jack the moment he and Glen stepped in Velvet. No. Jack and Glen’s presence was enough to inform Violet he had not only bought out the place for the night, but somehow arranged the patrons. The only possible explanation was he had again taken it upon himself to find her a bodyguard. It was both sweet and exceptionally annoying.

There was no doubt Jack cared about her safety to go through all this trouble of booking out her workplace for the night. It was his attempt to control her destiny, and to make it as safe and predicable as possible. Violet just couldn’t let go of her anger at being blind sighted with such a venture. Sure, she needed to train and to learn self-defense as Gagon never trained the females in his pack. It was his way to keep women docile. But even with all of Violet’s life-limitations and restrictions, a bodyguard was a tad bit excessive even for an eccentric such as Jack.

“Don’t sulk. I’m not asking you to shag ’em. But if you want to, well, at least now you know what they look like shirtless. It is a start. Now hear them out, and see if you can stand them.” Jack had informed her of his master plan before leaving her in the VIP lounge, which overlooked all of Velvet.

How Jack thought any of this would work was beyond her. The first couple of candidates she had spoken to were easily persuaded to seek employment elsewhere. The third prospective was too emotionally unstable, which led her to number four. Now he was touchy in a whole other sense. It wasn’t that she was against some show and tell, but the way he attempted to grope her spoke of inexperience, which reminded her too much of her past. She had kicked him out of the VIP lounge, then decided to fetch herself a drink. Nobody said she had to be sober to converse with anyone about random things she had little to no interest in. The fifth candidate had proven to be the mountain of meat from earlier, who surprisingly was a hilarious drunk, but otherwise inspired no sense of security.

A glass of chardonnay later, she could see how her desire to be left out of the whole fiasco could be misinterpreted as sulking. In reality, she was simply too tired to stay angry. She wanted to do just enjoy the fruity drink Gareth had just sent over, and to scribble down the grocery list for Thursday dinner with the guys. Was that too much to ask?

Being here out in the open like this, made her feel exposed. Although Jack had the best intentions at heart, she wanted nothing to do with the dozen or so shirtless males competing to be her watch dog. Pun indented. Who would have thought the little brunette from Shadow Waters would be important enough to get a bodyguard? Or that actually someone would apply for the position. Life was unbelievable at times. It was a string of choices and bittersweet consequences.

Violet sighed, aware the prospect of openly gawking the perfectly sculptured muscular bodies should inspire anything but the boredom she felt. Violet pulled out her cell phone out to work on her grocery list before someone else decided to join her.

It wasn’t long before a familiar aftershave engulfed her. The object of her frustration from earlier today casually sat beside her. Those cerulean eyes were the reason why she felt antsy; why she secretly hoped he would show up and whisk her away just as he had done the night before. Not that she remembered much of it anyways.

“What are you doing here?” Violet asked the most ridiculous question of all.