Sinners & Gin Read online

  Sinners & Gin

  Top Shelf Series

  Alta Hensley

  Copyright © 2020 by Alta Hensley

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  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.

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  Thank you to Jay Aheer for the amazing cover! Also a big thanks to Maggie Ryan for editing and helping my book turn to magic! I also can’t forget my amazing betas! You all know who you are, and I love you. And of course all the readers that have supported me along the way. I have the best team in the world.

  ALTA HENSLEY’S HOT, DARK & DIRTY NEWS

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  Alta’s Newsletter

  Dedication

  To My Nana

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  She taught me to drink Gin & Tonics with three green olives instead of lime.

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  And to Mr. Alta Hensley

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  Who makes my drinks that way without even giving pause.

  Contents

  Intro

  1. Matthew

  2. Aria

  3. Matthew

  4. Aria

  5. Aria

  6. Aria

  7. Matthew

  8. Matthew

  9. Aria

  10. Matthew

  11. Aria

  12. Aria

  13. Aria

  14. Aria

  15. Matthew

  16. Aria

  17. Aria

  18. Matthew

  19. Matthew

  20. Matthew

  21. Aria

  About the Author

  Also by Alta Hensley

  Newsletter

  My power is absolute. My rules are law.

  * * *

  Structure.

  Obedience.

  Discipline.

  * * *

  I am in charge, and what I say goes. Black and white with no gray.

  No one dares break the rules in my dark and twisted world… until her. Until she makes me cross my own jagged lines.

  She’s untouched. Perfection. Pure.

  Forbidden.

  She tests my limits in all ways.

  There is only one option left.

  * * *

  I will claim her as mine no matter how many rules are broken.

  1

  Matthew

  Nothing would stop me until the job was done.

  Consequences.

  There would be extreme consequences that would be delivered swiftly.

  This is how I did business. They would all see my wrath and what that entailed.

  He would see. He would feel. He would beg for my fucking mercy.

  There was a code of conduct in business. A level of respect that should always be followed. Vittorio Costa broke that rule, disrespected me, and I was done playing nice.

  “It’s fucked up.” Harley Crow was the first of my business partners sitting around the ridiculously expensive and nearly priceless conference table to chime in. “He thinks because he’s a boss that he’s untouchable. Those mafia fucks always think they’re invincible.”

  “Yeah, well, that mafia fuck needs to be checked,” Kenneth Saxon—the usually level-headed managing member of our business—snarled.

  It wasn’t just the loss of money that pissed me off. It was the theft. It was the blatant fuck you the man was sending me. I got the message loud and clear, and it damn near caused my blood to boil.

  I appreciated the support from my six business partners. I knew that if one of us was fucked with, we all were fucked with to some degree. We didn’t just own Spiked Roses together. We were more. We were practically brothers.

  “I’ll handle it,” Harley Crow stated simply. Killing someone wasn’t something new for this assassin, although I knew he was trying to clean up that part of his past. Deep down, he wanted his killing days to be behind him forever. A harder task than he had planned.

  And besides… this was my problem.

  Vittorio had entered my empire, and I was the king who needed to rule over my new enemy’s demise.

  “Listen, gentlemen, if we fuck with the mafia…” Lennon Wolf began, “I’m not saying we don’t get Matthew’s shipment returned, but killing the man might not be the best plan of action.”

  “I don’t want him dead,” I said between my clenched teeth. “I have a much better plan. One that will make it known to all to not fuck with Matthew Price. You don’t steal from me. You don’t even breathe on what is mine.”

  “Let’s all take a deep breath,” Alec Sheldon chimed in calmly with his southern drawl as he smoked off his cigar as if he didn’t have a care in the world. His nonchalance would have been infuriating had I not known that a calm before the storm was simply Alec’s way. “How many stolen paintings are we talking?”

  It wasn’t just the paintings, although I had plans for the ten pieces that were shipped to me from Naples. It was the fact that behind each painting, tucked away in the back panel, were priceless diamonds. The shipment served a dual purpose, and clearly Vittorio Costa had gotten wind of what was really inside those crates.

  The fucker beat my men to the transport ship.

  “Enough,” I answered. “I didn’t build my businesses by allowing someone to get one over on me. I sure as hell won’t start now.” I clenched my fists so hard that I lost feeling in them and had to release the pressure.

  “Does he know you know it was him?” Victor Drayton asked.

  “Does it fucking matter?” I snapped. “And no, I don’t believe he knows I’m aware that it was he who took the shipment. Which helps me in what I have in store. It’ll be a fucked up surprise he doesn’t see coming.”

  “So, what’s your plan?” Kenneth asked me. He knew that I was a lot like him. Where Harley would rather just go and shoot the man dead, Kenneth and I were more civilized in how we conducted our business. Although no one would dare steal from Harley Crow, so maybe I should have taken note of that fact and just killed the fucker who dared mess with me. But my sinister plan would be a torturous revenge.

  “To have him beg for me to take my paintings back.”

  The men around the conference table snickered and shook their heads as they all sipped from their drink of choice.

  Roman Cassian chuckled the loudest. “And how is that going to happen? We can steal them back, but I highly doubt the man is just going to give them up willingly. Let alone beg.”

  “He’s having a party in Aspen this coming weekend. He’s got a mansion up there and it’s invite only. I’m going to get invites for all of us under the guise that we are doing some research for Spiked Roses and our Tasting parties. I don’t need anything more from you all other than your attendance.”

  Each man smiled and nodded. They knew exactly what kind of party Vittorio Costa was throwing. He was known for his pet parties, and they attracted men and women from around the world to partake in the debauchery. The seven owners of Spiked Roses attending was not something out of the ordinary. Our appearance would not only be welcomed but practically expected.

  “It’s fucking cold in Aspen,” Victor Drayton said with a smile. “But I’m down to be a spectator if it’ll help you.”

  “I’m aware that most of you are in serious relationships, and I don’t expect you to do anything but show up, shake some hands, have a few drinks, and allow me to take it from there. No one needs to leave the party with a sexy ki
tty unless they want to. Or hell… bring your lady as your own pet.”

  I glanced around the table to see everyone nodding and pondering what exactly their plan would be. Their willingness to dive into the belly of the monster and walk into a mafia boss’s kink party so I could enact my revenge said a lot about our friendship.

  “Just don’t get yourself killed, man,” Harley Crow warned.

  “Or allow this dark fury to eat you up,” Lennon added.

  Too late.

  Too fucking late.

  I took a deep breath and started rattling off the details of the party so the men could add it to their schedules. Once I was done with the minor details, I excused myself and headed to the main floor of Spiked Roses in search of Tennessee Charles, our house manager. Once I saw him sitting at the bar going over some books, I pulled up a stool and sat next to him.

  “I have a proposition for you,” I started.

  Tennessee stopped what he was doing with an eyebrow arched in interest. “I do love when a man says those words to me,” he joked.

  When the bartender approached where we were seated, I ordered Nolet’s Reserve Gin Modern—my drink of choice. “A vacation of sorts,” I began.

  Tennessee snorted. “I haven’t had a vacation since I started at Spiked Roses. This place would fall apart without me.”

  I nodded in agreement, and I hated to ask this of him, but Tennessee was the only one I trusted enough to do what I had in mind. He would be a vital part of my plan, and without him, I didn’t exactly think I could pull it off.

  “Kenneth will be able to help out. He won’t run as tight a ship as you, but the women will listen to him. And a change of scenery could do you good. You’ve been acting like you have a stick up your ass for weeks now.”

  My drink arrived, and I took a sip as I looked at Tennessee who watched me with both confusion and uncertainty in his eyes. He was smart enough to know this was more than just a vacation offer.

  “I have a place in the mountains of Colorado. It’s close enough to Aspen to be desirable, but far enough to be a true getaway from the stresses of life. I need you to go there and watch over it. Take care of the house, me when I’m there, and if I have any… guests. It’s remote so you would be the only staff there.”

  “So, you need a mama?” Tennessee laughed. “You want me to go play house up there with you?”

  “Yes,” I stated simply. “Can you cook?”

  Tennessee raised his hand to his chest and acted offended. “Can I cook? Can I cook? The southern boy in me is insulted, Mr. Price.” He chuckled. “Of course I can fucking cook.”

  “Well, then,” I said. “How would you like to get away from the heat of New Orleans and enjoy some fresh mountain air?”

  “How long?”

  “I don’t know yet,” I answered honestly. “But it’s a huge house, beautiful scenery, and it will be stocked with whatever you want. I’ll also double your salary in cash while you are up there since it’s 24/7 that I need you.”

  “What’s the catch?” he asked.

  I smiled and took a sip of the gin. The smooth warmth of the liquid helped soothe the rage that was still swirling within me.

  When Tennessee saw I had no intention of answering his question, he took a moment to stare at me with squinted eyes. “All right. I’ll do it. But I’m not a cheap date. I don’t put out. So, don’t expect any funny business,” he teased. “When do I pack my bags?”

  Taking the last swig of my drink, I stood up and patted the man’s back. “I’ll give you the details later today. Pack warm. It’s fucking cold up there in the mountains.”

  2

  Aria

  I hated this house. There was absolutely nothing I enjoyed about coming to Aspen, Colorado. The mountain lodge opulence made me sick. There was nothing warm or inviting about the large marble-floor foyer with the huge double spiral staircase. The ridiculous statues of nude men and women made me feel like I belonged in some overpriced gallery in Paris. The bedrooms were too large and cold. The furniture was all modern rather than rustic and authentic lodge as I always felt it should be. It was nothing more than a sterile house adorned with expensive furnishings that screamed money.

  It was a showoff house.

  But then again, I had never lived in anything but.

  This house didn’t belong in the mountains. It belonged in Miami or somewhere of that nature. Yes, the outside trees and mountain peak views were pretty, but it wasn’t like I was ever allowed to leave the house to enjoy the surroundings. This was just another mansion of my father’s, and another expensive prison of mine.

  But Daddy made me come. Wherever he went, so did I. I was just a modern-day Rapunzel, but my tower was made of cash and jewels. There was only one way to escape my father and that was by marriage. But my father hadn’t found the right man for me.

  Yes, my father hadn’t found the right man for me.

  And when I say right man, what I really mean is that my father hadn’t found the right business connection that would grow his power even more by marrying off his daughter. I was simply a tool to make his reach and strength in the mafia and underground world expand. He was being picky, which meant that I was twenty-two and still being taken care of by my Daddy. His iron rule, his old-fashioned beliefs on how a woman should behave, and his sadistic nature assured that I did what he said with no questions asked. Plus, because of who he was, I lived in a little protective bubble that he had created around me for my so called ‘own good’. Did he love me?

  He loved what I could give him.

  I was a valuable asset.

  Even as all the guests started to crowd the house, it still felt cold. Part of that was due to what I was wearing. The slinky leather dress that barely covered my ass and breasts contrasted with the soft snow that fell outside. I should be in a sweater, warm boots, and fluffy socks sitting by a roaring fire. But then I would stand out like a sore thumb. Every female was dressed in the same sexy, if not even more scandalous, attire as me. Some women wore nothing but a collar and a kitty tail shoved up their asses.

  If Daddy knew I was attending his precious pet party he was fond of throwing quarterly in our Aspen house, he would damn near die of a stroke. Luckily for me, the other guests holding his attention, my black kitty mask, and the fact that I just lurked in the shadows, meant Daddy never knew I had watched from a distance for the last several that he hosted. I also wore a pink wig to hide my long brown hair tonight. It was worth the risk because I found the parties fascinating and frankly the only bit of entertainment I ever experienced in Aspen.

  Kitties.

  Grown, beautiful women crawling on all fours and acting like animals as they were led around by a collar. Powerful men in suits. Sounds of strict orders, mewls, purrs, and the occasional moan or cry as a naughty kitty was disciplined for not behaving.

  Reminiscent of when I used to sneak to the top of the stairs as a child and peer down below, I observed from the distance. Only this time, I watched with a glass of champagne in my hand and an occasional glance from a man on the hunt for his very own kitty. I never stayed long. I kept to myself and put off an aura that I was not interested. Occasionally a man would approach, and I would just brush him off. If he only knew that I was saving his life. If my father saw me acting as someone’s kitty… well, that someone would be killed without a second for explanation.

  No one touched his daughter. His mafia princess.

  No one.

  Fortunately, not everyone at the party was a kitty or a pet owner which aided me in just blending in. Some guests just attended and enjoyed the ambiance rather than partaking in the kinky play. They drank expensive wine and champagne, ate caviar, and worked the room as if it were completely normal for a woman in a kitty tail to be curled up at the feet of the person you discussed business with.

  I never recognized the guests, which also worked in my favor. My father liked to invite different people to each party to keep it interesting. He also invited more than our hous
e really should hold, so it was easy to find a corner somewhere and only move when my father was getting too close to where I stood.

  To the right of me, a woman… kitty… was on her knees with a cock balls deep in her mouth. Her eyes opened and connected with mine which oddly sent a current of sensation between my legs. Closing my thighs tight to force the throbbing to ease, I quickly looked away, although the dirty side of me wanted to watch as the kitty had her face fucked just a foot away from where I stood.

  It was the time of the night that this always happened to me.

  I reached the point where I’d had entirely too much to drink. The sexual chemistry, the forbidden fantasies, and the absolute need to defy my father made me want to get down on my hands and knees and become a pet to the first man who would look in my direction.

  It was time for me to leave.

  I knew this.

  It was always the same.

  Plus, if I stayed too long, my father could see me, or someone he works with closely would spot me in the crowd. I didn’t want to press my luck, and as much as I wanted to act out some of these kinks around me myself, I knew that was never going to be an option.