Silk Malice


 
 
 Table of Contents
 Cover
 Title Page
 Dedication
 Prologue
 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
 Epilogue
 About Midnight Dynasty
 About Eve Dangerfield
 Copyright
 Silk Malice
 Eve Dangerfield
 For the women who ask, ‘am I allowed to like this?’
 I think the answer is yes.
 Prologue
 Domenico Valente
 Seventeen Years Ago
 I already hear Alessia and her girlfriend Beckett laughing as I walk up the stairwell. I knock on the door. “Everyone dressed?”
 “Shut up, idiot,” Alessia calls.
 I take that as a ‘yes.’ The apartment has that saggy feeling that means Mom’s gone, but I call out anyway. “Mother dearest around?”
 “Nope,” Alessia yells.
 The girls are in the kitchen, their arms wrapped around each other. They’re both in short shorts and bras and every guy at school would cut off a hand to be standing where I am. Me? I can’t really enjoy the view. I could sneak a glance at Beckett’s ass, but Alessia would punch me in the head, and Beckett’s got zero interest anyway. Except maybe that I look like Alessia.
 I sit at the kitchen counter. “Either of you gonna put clothes on?”
 Alessia kisses Beckett on the nose. “Don’t look if you don’t like it, Doctor Valente.”
 “Don’t call me that.”
 She grins. Alessia’s blonde and fit and almost as tall as I am. People always think we’re twins. “That name is one hundred percent earned, little brother. That stuff you gave us…”
 I perk up. “You took the Orchard?”
 The girls exchange blissful looks. “Yeah.”
 “And it worked for both of you?”
 Alessia scowls. “Don’t be a pervert, Dom.”
 “I only let you have some to test it! Don’t jump up my dick because I want to know if it works.”
 Alessia rolls her eyes.
 “So, how’d it go?” I ask.
 Beckett exchanges another horny look with Alessia. “Amazing. We’ve been up all night—”
 I hold up my hands. “Enough, I get it.”
 “It was the hottest fucking thing,” Alessia assures me. “You’re a genius.”
 I smile at the countertop. Another successful trial. Only I can’t tell Adri or Morelli about this one—they’ll focus on the girl-on-girl thing, and I’ll never hear the end of it. Having a hot lesbian for a sister is no joke. I’ll tell Bobby about it. He’s got hot sisters. He gets it.
 Alessia opens the oven door, releasing a cloud of steam. “Still not ready. What the fuck?”
 Beckett and I smirk at each other. Alessia is the most impatient person on earth. Thirty seconds is too long for her to cook tater tots, which is what I assume is in the oven. Unless it’s fish sticks.
 Alessia slams the oven door closed. “Dom, you’ve gotta be more careful when you come here during the day. Mr. Hodges is watching the place and he told me he’s gonna call social services and tell them you’re not in school.”
 “What!?” I turn and look out the front window. “That old bitch. For all he knows, I dropped out.”
 “Next year, it won’t be a problem. Just stay out of his way for now.”
 “Whatever.”
 Beckett takes a seat beside me at the kitchen counter. “You’re not in school? Don’t you want to go to college?”
 “Nah, I’m making plenty of money doing what I’m doing.”
 “Selling drugs?
 “Making drugs,” I correct. “Distribution’s not my area.”
 She frowns. “That’s bullshit. A guy as smart as you should get a degree.”
 “Hey,” Alessia says, her head back in the oven. “Dom doesn’t need to go to college. He’s gonna make a million dollars and buy me a Harley.”
 “Exactly,” I tell Beckett. Although Alessia’s wrong. I’m not gonna make a million dollars. I’m gonna make a billion dollars. And I’m not just gonna buy her a motorbike: I’m gonna buy her a house and a car and anything she wants. Then I’ll buy Mom a cottage where she can do pills all day and hire a nurse to look after her. And maybe in a few years, she’ll get bored and start painting again. Who knows?
 People say money can’t buy everything, but that’s bullshit. Money opens doors. It makes everything easier. That’s why I like Morelli. He’s a grease ball who unironically wears polo shirts but he’s not one of those rich kids who thinks they’re better than their trust fund. He wants to make Orchard as big as I do. Patent it if we can and sell it to pharmaceutical companies. Yesterday he sent me an article about scientists trying to find the ‘female Viagra.’ We definitely have that, it’s whether the government will let women get high that’s the issue.
 But fuck, they let people get drunk and smoke cigarettes, and I don’t think we’re that far from legalizing weed. Why not get girls stupid horny? Who doesn’t want that?
 Once I’m rolling in cash, I’ll go to college. Tech at Yale. Bio chem at Oxford. Medicine at Johns Hopkins. Once I have money, it won’t matter. I can spend the rest of my life legitimizing what I already know; that I’m the smartest guy to come out of this shithole neighborhood.
 Alessia slams the oven again. “Not long now.”
 “Okay, babe,” Beckett says patiently. She pats my shoulder. “You gonna go see your girlfriend?”
 “Don’t have a girlfriend.”
 “The prep school bitch,” Alessia says, squinting at the oven door.
 She means Rosie Constantine. We started hooking up last year and we’ve been banging on and off ever since. Rosie’s no fun to be around when her class assignments are due, but she’s a ten and her college boyfriend means she doesn’t want to be seen with me in public. Which suits me just fine. An involuntary smirk spreads my lips. Now that Alessia and Beckett have taken Orchard and it went great,