His Pet, page 1
HIS PET
GRUCO CRIME FAMILY
NICOLE CYPHER
Copyright © 2022 by Nicole Cypher
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
ALSO BY NICOLE CYPHER
For a comprehensive list, check out Nicole’s website
* * *
The Darker Places Series:
DESIRED
DEPLORABLE
DETHRONED
DEMOLISHED
JULIUS
* * *
Soulless Kings MC:
FENDER
JOKER
* * *
Gruco Crime Family:
HIS PROMISE
HIS PET
HIS PRIZE
HIS PUPPET
HIS PROPERTY
* * *
Standalone Novels:
UNHINGED
VICIOUS KNIGHT
CONTENTS
1. Lorenzo
2. Amelia
3. Lorenzo
4. Amelia
5. Lorenzo
6. Amelia
7. Lorenzo
8. Amelia
9. Lorenzo
10. Amelia
11. Lorenzo
12. Amelia
13. Lorenzo
14. Lorenzo
15. Amelia
16. Lorenzo
17. Amelia
18. Lorenzo
19. Amelia
20. Lorenzo
21. Amelia
22. Amelia
23. Lorenzo
24. Amelia
25. Lorenzo
Epilogue
Thank you
Free Newsletter Exclusive
Sneak Peek of His Prize
Chapter One
Also by Nicole Cypher
About the Author
1
LORENZO
“I assure you, Mr. Gruco, it was an honest mistake. It won’t happen again.”
I bark out a laugh and flash my teeth at Joe, my right-hand man, who’s standing next to me. My younger brother, Anthony, is on my left, and two of my soldiers, Jasper and Dominic, hang back by the only door leading out of this concrete enclosure.
We’re in the basement of my casino, which also happens to house my office, but I like this room more. Down below us, my animals lazily lounge around the lion’s den, waiting for their next meal.
Standing in front of me are… well, I don’t remember their names, but they’re Lachlan Valentine’s guys. The fucking wannabe crime lord sends his prostitutes into my hotel and doesn’t have the decency to come to speak with me about it himself. Instead, he sends these two useless middlemen.
“An honest mistake?” I echo. “What do you think, Joe? Do you think it was an honest mistake?”
Joe doesn’t share my humor, so his face is hard as stone as he stares down the two men.
“I don’t know, boss. There’s a big fucking sign outside.”
“A big fucking sign,” I agree. “The lion statues are a pretty good giveaway too. Did either of you notice those on the way up?”
“Yes sir,” the one with a throbbing neck vein says. He looks nervous, and his eyes dart beneath the railing where the lion, lioness and tigers are. “But the girls that you found here were new. They didn’t realize whose territory this was.”
“They didn’t strike me as new.”
“Our girls are well trained,” the other one pipes up.
I move my gaze to him. He’s significantly less nervous than the other one. He’s got his hands at his sides, and he doesn’t fidget or break eye contact. I respect that. Not enough to let him keep his life, but I respect it. I wonder what it’ll take to break that composure.
“You know what I think?” I tuck my hands into my slacks and tilt my head. “I think somebody sent those girls here because they didn’t think I’d notice.”
“Of course not. Sir, Mr. Valentine would never—”
“Did you just interrupt me?”
His eyes go wide, and he shakes his head, but I’m almost positive that isn’t an answer to my question. I sigh like I’m disappointed, although I’m not, and gesture to the man. Jasper comes toward the guy, and he just looks around like he doesn’t know what to do. His lip trembles, and it causes mine to curl. I hate weak men. They disgust me.
The guy yelps as Jasper takes him by the arm and drags him over to the railing. “Wait! Hold on. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean any disrespect. Ple—”
His words are cut off by his own shrieking as Jasper lifts him over the railing and drops his body twenty feet to the dirt floor of the lion’s den.
His body lands with a thump and the shrieking stops. I step to the edge and peer at the man’s body, now being circled by my cats. Big, beautiful, hungry cats. A cloud of dust surrounds them. He isn’t moving. He’s either dead or he’s about to be.
Lucian, my first and most favored lion, is the first to take a bite. Good boy.
“Sir.”
“Hmm?” I ask, turning my head Joe’s way. He nods to the other man like I’ve forgotten he was there. I haven’t. I just really like fucking with people. I glance over my shoulder at my other guest. Sure enough, my watching his colleague being eaten has produced a sheen of sweat breaking out on his forehead. His hands, once steady at his sides, are now shaking. “Ah, yes.”
I clear my throat and face the man again. “I need to deliver a message to Lachlan Valentine. Could you please help me with that?”
“Yes, of course,” he says, shifting so he stands taller. “What would you like me to tell him?”
“Oh,” I chuckle. “I won’t be using words.”
His eyes go wide, and he looks between Jasper and Joe as they step up and grab each of his arms. Unlike the first guy, he doesn’t beg. He yells and curses, but doesn’t beg. It makes me respect him even more.
They force him to the edge, but not without him putting up a hell of a fight. As he’s tossed over and falling to the ground beneath my feet, I lean against the railing and watch this time as the body splats on the ground. The cats are busy with the first guy, but three of them shift over to the newcomer. There’s five total, three tigers, a lion, and a lioness, and each of them will be well fed by the end of the hour.
I check the time on my watch then go back to observing.
“You’re a sick motherfucker, you know that right?” Anthony asks, leaning against the railing beside me.
“So I’ve been told.”
“What should we do with the prostitutes?”
I shrug and glance at my little brother. He’s frowning like I’ve just done something he doesn’t approve of, but he’ll never say otherwise unless I ask.
“What is it?”
He glances below us but lifts his gaze a moment later. “We should’ve kept one of them alive. Sent them back to Valentine.”
“We will send them back. There will be leftovers.”
Anthony’s nose crinkles in disgust, but he nods. “So, the prostitutes,” he says, changing the subject. “Should I dispose of them?”
I consider it for a moment but decide against it. They’re just girls. Probably strays Lachlan picked up on the street and injected with heroin. Whoever sent them here knew exactly what they were doing, but the girls just do what they’re told. “No. Give them a job.”
“All right… I’m gonna take off.”
I smirk but suppress my laugh. He’s a grown man and lethal, but my little brother’s weak stomach reminds me of a child.
“See you for dinner?”
He nods and backs away. “Yeah, see you then.” He turns and leaves, and I watch him walk out the door before noticing Joe angry-whispering into his phone at the edge of the room. His back is turned to me, but I can picture his face contorted in anger by the way he’s hunched over with coiled muscles. Something’s wrong.
I roll my neck and go back to watching the bloodbath below. My jaw tics, and I can feel my patience thinning, but I wait for Joe to finish the call. If it’s shitty news, it’s best to come from a man I trust.
I have a habit of shooting messengers.
My hands curl around the bars as Joe approaches, and I brace myself.
“Boss?”
“Yes?”
“I need to tell you something, but first I want to assure you I’m going to take care of this.”
I turn to Joe and narrow my eyes. “What?”
He glances at the den and lets out a breath when his eyes move back to me. “Remember the protestors outside?”
“The ones that are there every fucking day? Yes, I remember.”
“Well…”
Joe’s mouth hangs open like he doesn’t know how he’s about to tell me whatever has him so shaken up. I have a feeling I already know what it is, and my back straightens on impulse. My hands curl into fists like I’m preparing for a fight, but it’s only instinct.
Two months ago, during one of the elaborate shows I put on at my Las Vegas hotel, one of my tigers, Mario, jumped too high through the ring of fire and singed its tail. I was more furious than I’d ever been and immediately fired every person responsible for putting together the equipment, regardless if it was the cause for the accident or not. I wasn’t the only one furious, though. Ever since that night, a group of animal rights activists have been posted outside the hotel calling for the shows to stop. Accusing me and my mana
“What the fuck did they do, Joe?”
He sighs and brushes a hand through his dark hair before letting it drop to his side. “There’s going to be an investigation into the treatment of the animals. Tomorrow, a couple of—”
“What?” I snarl, my eyes going wide.
“The local police aren’t getting involved, but the protestors appealed to some out-of-towners and—”
“And what?”
“And we can’t stop them from coming in.”
My vision darkens, and my blood runs cold. There are many things I don’t take personally. Money, for one. Sneaking prostitutes into my hotel to steal my clientele is both disrespectful and cowardly, but it isn’t personal. It isn’t about me. It’s about my money. My cats, however, are mine. They are personal.
Joe turns me toward the den and points. “Boss, look at them. They’re well taken care of. You make sure they have a good life. There isn’t going to be any evidence of animal cruelty because none exists.”
Except, there was that fucking ring of fire incident, and I didn’t stop the performances. Mario sat out for a month, of course, but my cats love the shows. They were born to train for the spotlight. It’s what keeps them happy. It’s what they live for. I would never take that away from them.
Whoever is coming here has made up their mind before they’ll even step through the door.
“Let it run its course.”
“Sir?”
“We do anything corrupt now, and it’ll only make the voices louder. Let the investigation happen, let it run its course, and let them shut up on their own. Once it’s done, we’ll get the cats back if it comes to that.”
Joe thinks for a minute then nods in agreement. “Yes, sir.”
I stare down at Lucian and wonder how I let this protesting shit go on. How they could manage to take my friend.
Joe steps away from the railing and walks toward the door, knowing better than to interrupt my thinking right now.
“Joe?” I call, not looking back.
“Yes sir?”
“I want you to find out who’s responsible for this… then bring them to me.”
2
AMELIA
THREE DAYS LATER
My glass clinks with Josh, Monica, and Jasmine’s and I giggle before bringing it to my lips. We’re toasting to a great victory tonight. Today was the day five wild animals no longer have to spend their lives in a concrete block, and the day their cruel owners lost.
Sugar mixed in the cosmopolitan coats my tongue, and it tastes as sweet as I feel. I won. I fucking won.
“So,” Jasmine says, steepling her fingers together and leaning toward me in a giddy fashion. “What’s next?” The bar is so loud with other victorious protestors that she has to yell for me to hear her.
I choose to laugh instead of give an answer, mostly because I don’t have one. I didn’t set out to clean up the corruption in Las Vegas, of all places, or anything like that. I run a non-profit animal shelter downtown, that’s my real passion, and one I’ve been neglecting. I had to hire two extra people to cover the time I was in front of that ostentatious casino holding my sign rather than tending to my fur-babies. It was worth it, for the tigers… but I think I’m ready to get back to my life.
Conversation lifts at the table while I’m stuck in my head, so when I come back to the present, I blink and try to get caught up on what they’re talking about. Josh’s face is lit up as he speaks a little too fast, and the others watch him closely, fully entranced in what he’s saying.
“I mean, think about it. How much useless plastic ends up in the ocean every year? If California can pass anti-plastic laws, so can we.”
I think about a documentary I watched one time on ocean plastic, and an image of a sea turtle choked by plastic rings sticks in my mind. Now, I’m interested.
“And what exactly are you proposing?”
“We get your dad to…”
His words blend together after he mentions my father, and I smile as I stare at him but have to fight the pull of gravity on my lips.
My father, the real estate investor. Not the environmentalist, the animal rights activist, the philanthropist. He doesn’t care about those things, and yet, he’s a large reason why we got the attention that we did on the lion tamers. He’s made quite a few connections from his career, and not that he knows about it, but one of them, an activist from Alaska, had even bigger connections
Connections.
Money.
Power.
These are the things that make a difference in the world. Not kindness or compassion or even hard work.
Suddenly, this victory feels less victorious.
I nod as Josh finishes. “That’s definitely something to keep in mind.” Except, it’s already out of my mind. Oops.
I inwardly chastise myself. I shouldn’t be negative about their ideas, their good ideas. But once, just once, it would be great not to use the father who could not give less of a fuck if he tried.
“Hey, are any of you coming to the shelter tomorrow?” I ask, changing subjects and readying myself to take my negativity home.
“I’ll be there!” Monica says, setting down her Cosmo.
I take one last drink of my own and stand. “Awesome, I’ll see you tomorrow then, Mon.”
“Are you going home?” Jasmine asks with a pout.
“Yeah, I want to get there early in the morning, and it’s getting kind of late.”
Josh stands and wraps his arm around me. “You did good,” he says in my ear before pulling back with a smile. I return it.
“We did good. I’ll see you guys later.”
“See ya!”
By the time I make it to the exit, four people have stopped me to talk about what comes next. Each conversation seems to take longer than the last.
I sigh in relief as I finally breathe in the free air and tilt my head toward the night sky. I pull my phone from my pocket and check the time—half past midnight.
I send for an Uber then wait outside the bar another five minutes before I’m finally seated in a car and heading toward home.
“I’ve never seen that bar so packed during the week,” the driver comments. He looks to be a little younger than me, early twenties maybe, and has light brown hair and soft eyes.
“It’s a special occasion. You know that hotel with the lion and tiger shows?”
“Yeah?”
“Well, today it got shut down.”
“The hotel?”
“No, the shows. A couple of months ago one of the tigers was burned during one of the acts,” I sneer the word. “And today they got taken to a new home. Everyone who protested the shows is celebrating.”
His brow furrows, and he glances at me with eyes slightly narrowed. “Oh… cool.”
My pride fizzles some from his judgmental tone, but I don’t try to defend myself. I’ve been here before, and I know well enough that not everyone agrees with me. People like flashy, extravagant things, here and everywhere else. They don’t necessarily give a shit about the animals or even the people negatively impacted.
“I took my girlfriend to see one of their shows on our first date.”
“I guess you’ll have to see a movie now,” I comment, my tone flat.
We don’t utter another word the rest of the drive, and when he drops me off in front of my building, I resentfully pull out a five for a tip and hand it over.
I relax as the car pulls away and I’m left alone.
Jeremy, my building’s door man, holds the door open for me as I approach.
“Good evening, Ms. Norwood.”
“Good evening, Jeremy.”
