Velvet Fire: Ashby Crime Family Romance Read online

  Copyright © 2020 KB Winters and BookBoyfriends Publishing Inc

  Published By: BookBoyfriends Publishing Inc

  Copyright and Disclaimer

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2020 KB Winters and BookBoyfriends Publishing LLC

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the copyright owner. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of the trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

  Contents

  Velvet Fire

  Copyright and Disclaimer

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  More From KB Winters

  Free Book Offer!

  Acknowledgements

  About The Author

  Chapter One

  Virgil

  Sitting inside my all-black Porsche, I stared up at the Black Stallion Casino in all its cheesy, neon glory and then down at the picture in my hand. Savannah Rhymer. She was pretty enough with dark hair and big blue eyes that were far too innocent considering she was the heiress of The Crusaders, and not just any old heiress. She was the old man’s right-hand woman.

  Sure, her brother would take over the family business when the old man kicked the bucket, but Savannah? She knew where all the bodies were buried. And who put them there. The Crusaders were a newer organization compared to my family, but they were making a name for themselves with their brutality and their reputation for doing anything to keep cash flowing into their organization. There was nothing they didn’t do, including human trafficking, drugs and guns, underground gambling, extortion, blackmail, and the occasional murder for hire. And now they were trying to take over Ashby territory.

  And that was the reason I was here at the casino tonight. It was no happy coincidence that Savannah was here, too, celebrating her birthday at Bullets & Beer, the nightclub owned by my family, inside the casino also owned by my family. The Ashbys didn’t just own Black Stallion Casino and nearly all the businesses contained within the massive structure at the heart of Glitz, Nevada. We owned the whole Goddamn town.

  Our money was old but our blood was anything but. Not one of us, not me or my brothers, Jasper and Calvin, or even our sister Kat, gave one flying fuck. Just like the Rockefeller and Vanderbilt families, the Ashby clan earned our money by duping people. Not with railroads or oil, but gaming. Mostly. Some might call it bookmaking or whatever other name the government uses to separate people like us from the blue blood families who do the same fucking thing. We owned casinos, underground gaming rooms, underground casinos, sports betting facilities, bars, restaurants, and anything else we needed to maintain our power in Glitz. Our influence.

  And tonight that meant teaching The Crusaders a lesson. Nobody fucks with the Ashby family, at least no one who was alive to tell the fucking tale, as they say. Not only did these assholes think they could try to do business on Ashby territory and get away with it, but booking the princess’s party at our fucking establishment?

  Hell, no.

  In the past, I’d barge ahead without an order from Ma to do what needed to be done, but I wouldn’t make that mistake again. Sadie Rose Ashby was a formidable woman, more dangerous than all three of her boys combined despite her petite, almost society woman outer shell. Going against her wishes would put me in the shit house for sure.

  Again.

  No thanks.

  I stared at the photo sent to me by Colby, the head bartender at Bullets & Beer, not thirty minutes ago. It was the text message he’d sent with the picture that brought me to the casino, contemplating something stupid, made stupider without Ma’s approval so I dialed and held my breath.

  “Virgil, my love,” she said when she answered. “Tell me you’ve decided to join me for dinner tonight? We’ve received a new shipment of whiskey.” As badass as Sadie Ashby was, to me she was just Ma. A woman who cooked my meals, cleaned my wounds, and taught me how to be a man.

  “I wish, Ma, but I’m calling about somethin’ else.” I stared at the photo again, Savannah was all smiles with her friends like any of them had a right to be there. “Savannah Rhymer.”

  I heard Ma suck in a breath. “What about her?”

  “She’s at Bullets & Beer. With bodyguards. Celebratin’.”

  “The last fucking day of her worthless life,” she snarled, no doubt foaming at the mouth. “This disrespect can’t stand, Virgil. It won’t.”

  I nodded even though she couldn’t see me. “Is that confirmation to act?” I held my breath, fists clenched and waited to hear the words I wanted to hear, that I could put a bullet in her pretty little head and devastate The Crusaders for their disrespect.

  “Oh Virgil. You always come to me with the difficult decisions,” she said, half joking. “Not a bullet, no. Not yet anyway. Subdue her and bring her to Ashby Manor.” With those words, her wishes voiced, she ended the call.

  “Nice talkin’ to you too, Ma.” It wasn’t the answer I wanted but it was enough. I climbed out of the Porsche with a purpose behind every step I took towards the casino.

  “Good evening, Mr. Ashby.” The older doorman tipped his hat and flashed a smile, the same as he’d done for as long as I can remember.

  “Good evening to you, Allan.”

  “Nice and clear,” he said and opened the door for me, an old school pleasure Ma insisted made our place stand out in Glitz and beyond in Vegas. “Enjoy your night, sir.”

  A few more employees flashed their most delighted smiles, making sure me and every other Ashby knew how happy and grateful they were for their jobs. We paid our staff well. Better than any of the casinos in Vegas.

  Some of it was simpering but it was also genuine because the Ashbys had saved this fucking town. We’d turned it from a fading old boom town into the tourist hot spot it was today. By the time I made it up the elevator to Bullets & Beer, my mind was clear and my hands were steady.

  The steady thump of bass hit me about two floors before the elevator came to a stop, and the heat came the moment the doors slid open. Despite the cool desert air blowing over the rooftop club, it was no match for the number of hot, sweaty gyrating bodies on the floor.

  I stepped off the elevator with a smile on my face, looking the part for
anyone who was watching, like a guy on the prowl. Looking to score before the night was over, so I sidled up to the bar and ordered a Jameson neat. It was a damn fine whiskey and just cheap enough that it kept the gold diggers away, unless of course I was in the mood to fuck a gold digger, which I sometimes was. They were eager to please and willing to do a lot to please me, worth the pricy stuff I’d order as bait.

  What man could resist?

  With a drink in my hand, I did a circuit of the club until I spotted Savannah and her crew, just where Colby said they would be. He was behind the VIP bar where he was supposed to be and I slid a fifty across to him.

  “Two bodyguards,” he said, sliding the bill deftly under the bar, “officially but two more lurking down below.” He nodded at the sore thumbs in black leather working hard to blend in with a bunch of twenty-something kids.

  “Thanks. Anything else?”

  “They pre-paid ten grand for the tab.”

  Fucking assholes. “Close them out and keep what’s left for you and the VIP girls.”

  “Thanks, boss.”

  I stood at the end of the bar and watched Savannah and her friends, laughing and dancing and having a good time with thousand dollar tequila. They were all cute, in that rich college girl sort of way. Nice for a good fuck, maybe, but otherwise too squeamish about the real world. Unlike her friends, Savannah knew about the underworld, had been buried knee deep in that shit since she was a teenager.

  Ma was right. She was more valuable for the moment, without a bullet in her head. So, I waited, bided my time until she broke off from the group to make out with a dude who wore a man bun. I slipped down the dark hall, watching them exchange sloppy kisses while his hands roamed and took advantage of her inebriated state, sliding his fingers under her top until she gasped and took a step back.

  She said some words, and he shot a few words back at her with that annoying smirk guys thought passed for confidence these days. Man Bun walked away and, dammit, I was too far away to get to Savannah before she made her escape into the bathroom.

  So I waited some more, staying in the shadows in case any women got the wrong idea. She stayed in there so long I wondered if she would ever come out, and how long before I could just go in after her.

  But a few minutes later she bounced out at the tail end of a larger group of women, probably trying to blend in to avoid Man Bun. And that was my moment.

  I stepped in behind her, glancing around to make sure no one was behind me. No one noticed me as I pulled the needle from my side pocket and popped off the protective cover. Seconds later the needle pierced her smooth white skin and her legs buckled. I caught her before she hit the floor, turning left when the VIP section veered to the right. We slipped out of the emergency exit, which Colby had disabled and left open at my request.

  “Need some help, sir?” A security guard appeared out of nowhere and I shook my head.

  “Thanks Ty, but I’ve got her. Promised I’d get her home safe, and this drunk, she gets handsy. I wouldn’t want to get you in any trouble.”

  He arched a brow. “But she’s safe with you?” An amused bark of laughter escaped, but luckily it didn’t drown out the music.

  I shrugged and leaned in, like it was a secret. “She believes in happy ever after.” His brows shot up to his hairline, and Ty took a step back, smiling. Same as me.

  “Good luck with that Mr. Ashby. And good night.”

  “You too,” I told him, keeping up the act that she was just a drunk friend of a friend because I knew Ty. He’d been trained by the best, my brother Jasper; he would keep his eyes on me until he was sure I was safe in my car. Passenger, too.

  Sure enough, Ty didn’t step inside until I had Savannah buckled into the passenger seat with me beside her, foot on the gas as the car rolled out of the parking lot.

  My shoulders relaxed the more distance I put between me and the casino, knowing that the time had come and gone for security to realize their charge was missing. Those guys would be dead by morning for an error of this magnitude.

  “Shit. Or not.” A sharp right at the last street before the long private drive that led to Ashby Manor revealed that I might be the one dead before morning.

  The woman in the passenger seat had dark hair but it was black, not brown. Her skin was pale, but alabaster pale rather than prison pale. And shit, she had a hell of a lot more body than Savannah Rhymer.

  Because she wasn’t Savannah Rhymer.

  Fuck my life.

  Chapter Two

  Maisie

  “Are you sure you don’t want something to drink other than water, Bonnie?” Bonnie Byrne had somehow become my best friend during our time at Nevada University at Mayhem. She was the day to my night, the angel to my devil, and the designated driver to my drunken birthday girl.

  Bonnie rolled her big eyes at me, lips curled up into affection and silent disapproval. “I’m fine with water, Maze. It’s the desert. Gotta rehydrate.”

  “Of course you’re fine,” I told her and flung an arm over her shoulder to squeeze her tight. “But that hot bartender right there has been eyeing up your curves all night, and I’ll bet he’d love to make you any virgin cocktail you want.” I let the words roll off my tongue to tease her, loving the way her pale, freckled skin turned fiery red when she was embarrassed.

  “Maisie! I can’t believe you just said that, out loud,” she added so low I could barely hear her. “The whole place heard you!” She looked around, horrified that someone might inadvertently learn about her virgin status when the truth was the guys in this room would fight to the death for the honor of deflowering her.

  “I don’t care how hot the bartender is, he’s not Wyatt.” Wyatt was her loser boyfriend and Bonnie’s only blind spot in the world. I was hoping once we graduated, she’d look for a better man.

  “Don’t worry, everyone is too lost in their own crap to pay attention to us. Except for a few guys I caught checking us out earlier.” The cutie pie bartender set down a double tequila for me and a Bahama Mama for Bonnie, virgin of course. “I’m so happy I convinced you to come out tonight. Without Wyatt.”

  Bonnie flashed a shy smile and ducked her head down, hiding her face in the mouth of her glass. “It has been a while since I’ve gone out like this. I miss it sometimes.” Sadness flashed in her eyes and not for the first time, I wanted to kick Wyatt’s ass.

  “And I miss having you out with me! The dynamic duo is back for my twenty-first, baby!” Living in a small-ish town like Glitz, next door to Vegas’ darker, younger cousin Mayhem, meant it was easy to get good and blasted well before my twenty-first birthday. But my brother Gunnar and his wife Peaches decided I needed a VIP room to celebrate this milestone.

  Bonnie raised her glass. “To good friends.”

  “Strong drinks,” I added the way I always did.

  “And a night that never ends!” We finished the last line together, a promise we made late one night freshman year after I’d had too many cranberry vodka cocktails.

  “Can you believe it, we’re already twenty-one years old. Where does the time go?” I shook my head and knocked back the tequila, taking the short glass of water the hot bartender pushed into my hands.

  Bonnie let out a snort that was out of character for the good Catholic girl and covered her mouth in a hilariously horrified expression. “What is the matter with me?”

  “Nothing in the world Bonnie and please don’t ever change.” You’d expect Bonnie to be uptight and judgmental given how she was raised, five days a week at the local Catholic church whether she wanted to or not, and that was on top of her Catholic school education. But Bonnie was sweet and even though she didn’t drink, the girl could make a sailor blush when it came to shaking her booty on the dance floor.

  “We’re twenty-one, Maze, not fifty-one. We don’t even have our diplomas yet.”

  The reminder brought another smile to my face. “Not yet. Six weeks from now, we’ll be college graduates. Adults. Dwellers in that gross place call
ed the real world.”

  “Come on, it won’t be so bad. We’ll get jobs and make our own money, which means no one can say how we spend it.” That was especially important to Bonnie, who grew up in a strict, deeply religious household where women listened to men and kids listened to adults, period. No questions and no negotiations. Gunnar wasn’t too bad as a brother playing parent, unless he was sure he was right, and even then, Peaches was always the perfect ally. She was the best mom ever.

  “That all sounds amazing, but the downside is we’ll have to do actual work.” My expression sent Bonnie erupting into a fit of giggles that made her skin glow. And when her wide, lush mouth spread open with laughter, at least five dudes groaned behind their zipper pain. “Damn girl, put that lethal weapon away before you cause a riot!”

  Bonnie froze mid-laughter and looked around, too self-conscious about her looks when she had no reason to be. She constantly stood in with her bright red waves which were in stark contrast to my plain black hair that hung to the middle of my back. Where I was ghostly white, Bonnie had that whole sweet Irish rose thing going on with rosy cheeks, lush pink lips, and cheekbones straight off the Paris runway. She was a knockout in a nun’s habit, or whatever was one step above a nun’s habit on the awful to amazing scale. “Stop saying that, Maisie! You know it’s not true.”

  I ordered another drink and turned back to my bestie. “I know it’s absolutely is true. That guy over there, the blonde in all black, has been staring at you all night. He’s almost got enough courage to approach you. And let’s not forget the suit at the end of the bar who’s been drooling over your tits for the past hour. Be careful, he seems like a drink spiker.”

  Bonnie choked on her drink and shook her head. “You can’t tell that from looking Maisie. You are so full of it.”

  “Trust me, I have good instincts when it comes to people.” I grew up on a ranch in Texas, which I knew made me sound like some kind of small town hick. The truth, though, was my upbringing was anything but normal. My mom was a junkie and died when I was too young to remember her, forcing my brother to take care of me. He did a great fucking job. But he was a guy and didn’t think twice about raising me around the Reckless Bastards, the motorcycle club he ran down in Texas. Or The Barn Door, the sex club they ran on the other end of the ranch. “Unlike some people.”