Hello my loves. I know it has been an extremely long time since I've posted, but I have a good reason. I PUBLISHED MY FIRST BOOK!

This is a huge dream come true and I have spent all my time and focus on getting this book out on time. The last five months I've spent writing, editing, and trying to market this book and now I proudly come to you saying I did it!

If any of you are interested, the book is on sale on Amazon and the title is ARDOR by Elena M. Reyes. Ardor-ebook/dp/B00E34KT96/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1375395482&sr=1-1

Alright, enough about me…I will see you guys soon. The next chapter is already 300 words in and I hope to have it out as soon as possible!

Love you all,

Massy/reyes139

Chapter 45

Charlie's POV

"Where the fuck are those two?" I grumble under my breath as another minute passes and there's still no sign of Renee or Esme.

What the fuck is taking them so long?

Eleazar has been watching the stage doors with anticipation. I can see the disappointment take over his face, with each person that passes his shoulders sag.

Whoever it is that he is waiting for, is late, and he is becoming restless.

His guards — two of them — stand watch while he fidgets and looks at his watch and another minute ticks by. The fucker is getting impatient and whispers in one of his goon's ears something that sets the man off toward the back.

We are down to one.

My phone pings and I look down. Seems plans have been altered on Carlisle's side and Laurent is in his possession.

Laurent is an idiot from what I've seen, and seems to have gotten caught in a very compromising position. Snooping around my little girl's office by none other than a very pissed off Angie — and her bat.

I don't know the full story, but I know what that girl is capable of when pushed. It's why I trust the three of them to get shit done. No questions asked. Poor fucker will be chum by tonight and no one will be the wiser; unless they catch and open up the sharks to remove what's left of the dumbass.

I love these sadistic fuckers.

"Anything to drink, Sugar?" I've declined this chicks services twice, but she won't quit.

"Sure," anything to get her off my junk, "get me a Cuba Libre and two glasses of Pinot for my ladies."

"Of course, Sir." Emily, the waitress leans forward, pushing her huge chest in my face.

Thank God my slim isn't here or she would've been on the waitress's ass already. My woman is a jealous little thing.

"I'll put those in for you right away. Is there anything else I can get for you while the ladies are away?" She puts way too much emphasis on else. Whore.

Just as I am about to answer and tell Emily to get off my shit, my phone rings from its spot on the table.

"Sweetheart," I grouch, annoyed. They should be out here watching the floor and flirting their way into the clubs most private room. Instead, the two are giggling, from what I can hear, and playing in the bathroom. "What's taking so fucking long?" My growl cuts off their laughter, "I'm out here being accosted by a persistent tramp and you guys are what . . . powdering your noses?"

"I swear to God, Charlie." That's the slim I know and love. Her growl makes me shiver in the best of ways.

"Umm, Charlie . . . honey," Esme speaks in a saccharine sweet tone. "We were just calling to tell you that we met the star dancer, Victoria, and have been having the most delightful chat."

Now this is an interesting turn of events, but her tone has to go. Convincing as fuck, but nauseating all at once.

"Oh, really?" Now, that I am clued in, they giggle.

"Oh, baby, she's so beautiful," my slim gushes, "and a fucking red head. You know how I love red heads." So they have the bitch in their clutches.

"What are my devious little girls planning?"

"Something that would make our Big Daddy really happy." This is Esme; she is giddy as fuck and fully into her roll. Carlisle is going to get a kick out of this story when we're done. "You'll just have to trust your girls and enjoy the show." Guess I'm the slow one tonight.

"Enjoy the show huh? Okay, I see that it's your show now. Bring it, and make it painful," I whisper the last part into the receiver. From what I've gathered, they've secured a private show. One that will be her last and more than likely it will be more than me and my killer assistants witnessing her demise.

Question is, how do I get Eleazaar away from goon one and two, and into the private room my partners are booking?

Our drinks are placed in front of me just as slim and Esme sit at our table. My wife glares at the obnoxious waitress, scaring the idiot to the point that she drops my drink; luckily it falls from the edge of the table and onto her shoes.

"Clumsy little thing, aren't you?" Renee sneers. "Just leave." She waives her hand in dismissal, "And don't bother returning with a replacement."

I can see the rebuttal on the tip of Emily's tongue, but luckily she senses the danger she is in, and scampers off.

"Bitch was smart to run," Renee mutters and then busts out in a fit of giggles.

"I was afraid she was going to pee her pants!" Esme adds in while biting her cheek.

"Will you two focus?" I get the bitch brow from both. "What happened in the bathroom and how much longer until we start? Carlisle already has Laurent at the Seaquarium as we speak."

"When?" Esme asks.

"While you two were talking to Red."

"Okay, then." Slim stands, downs her drink, and leaves our table.

"Where's she going?" I ask.

"To set everything up; money will be given to the bald man by the door and we will be ushered into Red's final destination."

"Good. Now to execute my own change in plans."

"What do you mean 'change?'" Esme questions and then watches while Eleazaar follows the same path Slim took.

I shrug. "He dies, too."

"And how do you suppose we make this happen?"

Esme leans in and whispers in my ear. We still have a part to play; and to everyone in the club, I am just one lucky son of a bitch. "He has two bodyguards with him." She giggles. "The idiot won't hand himself over to us on a silver platter, you know."

"He will, if what he wants is in danger — or occupied with others."

"Red?"

"Red." I laugh and nod. We have Eleazar's weakness and it all comes down to over used pussy.

"So, what did I miss?" Renee's hands wind around my neck and she whispers that everything is settled. "You two ready to play?"

"Just discussing the fishing excursion were attending, too, and how the target number has doubled."

"Doubled?" Slim's lips skim over my ear as she sighs in contentment. "As in the smarmy fucker fuming over me booking his private room?"

"If you're referring to the man walking our way, then yes . . . yes, I am."

The girls quiet and stare our companion down when he stands in front of us.

"I think there has been a mistake." Eleazar is trying to be intimidating by puffing out his chest and glaring at my wife.

Wrong move.

"I suggest you back the fuck up and show my wife some respect."

"My apologies, Senor..."

"Swan."

"Okay. Senor Swan, as I was trying to explain . . . there has been a mix-up. The room your lovely wife arranged was previously booked by me. It was a simple misunderstanding between the manager and his appointment book."

"Then that's something you need to fix with the manager, not my wife," I snap.

"They will only give me the room if you agree," Eleazaar amends.

"Then you're fucked," my Slim sneers.

"Mrs. Swan, please—"

"Why don't we share?" Esme interjects with an innocent smile on her face. "We're all adults and only want a good show. We can all play together."

"Sir," goon one interjects, "we are drawing too much attention our way. Liam hasn't stopped looking this way and—"

So Liam Hunter is here, too?

That might be useful.

"Would you like to play, Commissioner?" Esme giggles, playing her part to a T.

He is entranced by her, looking at every inch of flesh on display with lust.

"Your friends don't seem to like me, beautiful." His tone is soft and his accent heavy.

Fucker was going for Latin lover of the year with this performance.

"They'll be nice, I promise. Unless you want them to get rough . . . pain and pleasure can go hand and hand."

He laughs and eats up every word that comes out of her mouth.

"I do believe this would solve everyone's issues," Renee adds while pretending to contemplate our situation. "I'm in if my Big Daddy is?" Sassy woman.

"What am I going to do with you two?" They giggle, kiss my cheek, and add in a sultry "Please."

"Fine," I reluctantly agree, "but, your men stay outside."

Eleazaar is hesitant and his men shake their heads.

It would take me one minute to pop both of his bodyguards and be done with the whole thing, full club be damned, but we want their deaths to be a surprise. For them to be found hung and limp by those that work for that piece of shit, Hunter.

"That's something I won't bend on. My girls like to play, to love each other and me with wild abandon. I won't have them subjected to the disrespectful gazes of your men."

"Sir, your safety—"

"Is not in jeopardy. Unless he can't handle swinging action between friends?" Esme croons, extending her hand out to him.

"I'm in. Fuck, beautiful, lead the way." His grubby hands adjust his cock. Turning toward his men, he tells them to get a bite or drink on him.

The duo isn't happy, but relent after he grabs Esme's hand and walks away without another word.

Stupid fucker.

Slim and I walk away with barely contained excitement. The two guards tried to stand in front of me; my guess is in warning, regarding their job's safety.

"Back off, fucker." Slim sneered and pulled me along behind her. My shoulder checked one of the men hard enough to send him back. He stumbled, and the other tried to grab me – Slim beat him to it and rushed us away.

"Don't make a scene you ass, they will day die. Later," she reached up and gave me a kiss before we entered the back.

The hall leading toward the private room is dark, decorated by black lighting and pictures of women littering the walls in various sexual poses.

The last door, our door, is wide open in invitation as we walk in. Esme and Eleazar are sitting on a couch.

Well, she is . . . he is slouched.

The music has started to play.

The lighting is dimmed.

Esme giggles and Renee unclips the four small daggers she has concealed on her upper thigh.

"Is he restrained?" I ask Esme. She didn't wait for us to subdue him.

"I clipped the fucker with my gun when he tried to touch my girls. His nose met the back of my Glock and out he went."

"Okay, that explains the blood, but where the fuck did you get the handcuffs?"

Her eyes roll at me and she points toward the small chest of toys which sit by the stage.

Ahh.

I sit back with Slim between my thighs and Esme sits next to an out cold ex- commissioner. Victoria enters with a smile, until her eyes land on her lover — and where Esme's hand rests on his upper chest.

She is jealous.

Good.

"He wasn't a part of the deal," Victoria snaps. "Why the fuck is he here?"

"You don't get paid to ask questions. Dance, bitch, and make it worth every cent I paid," Slim sneers while her finger traces the blade of her knife.

Victoria sees this and pales.

Her eyes dart toward Eleazaar, and tears start running down her cheek when she realizes Esme's holding a gun to his temple.

"Go on . . . dance." I laugh. "Let's see how good you are, but I would watch out for sharp objects if I were you. They might come out of no where and—"

"W-who are you people?" Victoria cuts me off with her alarmed stutter.

"Death."

My girls laugh, and I smile.

Leave me some sugar...