Marco called out behind me, “I got Diego on the line. He’s looking at security cameras in the area.”
I headed for the SUV, ready to go.
“Sonofabitch! Find my wife, goddamit!”
As we were pulling out of the parking area of the mansion, I got a text from my IT guy, Diego.
“Motherfucker! Why the fuck is my wife at a fucking strip club?”
I was practically vibrating in the seat.
I told the driver to get to the Alley Cats strip club and pronto. Someone was going to lose their shit today.
I was so pissed, I was ready to pull my gun on someone, anyone.
We pulled into the parking lot of the club 20 minutes later. If anyone touched my wife, they were going to lose a fucking limb. Or two. Or more.
Another SUV pulled up next to mine, all my men got out, stepping in line behind me as I stormed to the entrance of the club. I was having a hard time keeping control.
Once I passed the threshold, I had to wait until my eyes adjusted. It was dark, with only subtle lighting spaced out with the exception of the spotlight on the dancer and the pole on the stage across the room. Once my eyes adjusted, I noticed a woman approaching with barely there clothes on. She had on ashort tight skirt, pasties on her nipples, and had a boa draped around her neck. She had on silver glitter high heels that made her look awkward.
“Hey suga’ honey. Can I help you with somethin’?” She gave me a suggestive look that was probably supposed to be sexy. It wasn’t. I had a feeling if the lights really had been on the makeup on her face would have been Halloween level awful. That made me think of Sophie and how she never wore makeup. Except when attending galas and events. She didn’t need makeup. She was absolutely stunning without it.
I didn’t have time for this whore. “Where’s your boss?”
“Oh honey. No need for him to get involved. How ‘bout I help you?” She started to come closer when I put my hand up to stop her.
“Your fucking boss. Now!” I snapped at her.
She stepped back, looking scared shitless. “He’s this way.” She turned swiftly and moved quicker than I would have expected in those stiletto heels.
“Cam, this man wants to talk to you.” She approached a squirrely looking man, wearing a suit that looked too big on him. She continued walking, not looking back. Smart woman.
‘Cam’ smiled wide at me, reaching his hand out to me to shake, which I did not accept. His smile wavered as he awkwardly took his hand back to his side.
“How can I help you, Mr. Gutierrez?”
Good. He knew who I was.
“Where’s my wife?”
He took a step back, hand to his throat, and choked out, “Your what?”
“My wife! Where is my fucking wife?” I was barely containing my rage at this point.
From behind me, in a tense voice, one of my men said, “Boss?”
I started to turn to him, when I saw her. She was standing between two big fellas, probably bodyguards or bouncers. One was leering at the women walking around, the other was standing slightly in front of my wife, protectively. He could live. The other one was questionable.
I heard noises from behind me. I turned to look when I realized several men were leering in my wife’s direction. I turned back to Sophie, and caught my breath.
Motherfucking fucker!
If she had been dressed like that anywhere other than in a strip club full of disgusting horny men, I could appreciate what she was wearing. Or not wearing.
I could feel my cock harden quickly.
Sonofabitch!
