The Trade
The Clans
Book Two
Available Now From
Elizabeth Knox
Reign
(Skulls Renegade #1)
Promised
(The Clans #1)
Redemption
(Skulls Renegade #2)
Tough as Steele
(Steele Bros #1)
Blackjack
(Reapers MC #1)
Revenge
(Skulls Renegade #3)
Stripping a Steele
(Steele Bros #2)
Relentless
(Skulls Renegade #4)
Coming Soon From
Elizabeth Knox
Reckoning
(Skulls Renegade #5)
Scarred
(Demons of Hell MC #1)
God of Hotness
(Purgatory #1)
Here Kitty, Kitty
(Demons of Hell MC #2/Reapers MC #2)
Forbidden Love
(The Mackenzies #1)
Protecting a Steele
(Steele Bros. #3)
Steeleing her Heart
(Steele Bros #4)
Booger
(Reapers MC #3)
Cherished
(The Clans #3)
Deceit
(The Clans #4)
Reclaimed
(Skulls Renegade #6)
The Trade
This work is a book of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are all products of the author's imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblances to persons, organizations, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
The Trade. Copyright © 2018 by Elizabeth Knox. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the author, except in the case of brief quotations used in articles or reviews. For information contact E. Knox.
https://www.facebook.com/eknoxbooks
Cover Design by CT Cover Creations
Teasers by Decadent Designs by Dee & CT Cover Creations
Editing & Formatting by Cordially Chris Author Services
Proofread by Cassie Buck, Knox Publishing
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Acknowledgements
Christine – We are here yet again. The time seems to be passing so quickly nowadays. I wonder where we’ll be at in a year’s time, it’s hard to believe that this marks 9 books in one year. Thank you so much for all you have helped me achieve!
My Amazing Arc Readers – You guys are the bomb, literally. You have no idea how much I look forward to y’all reading my crazy little stories. Thank you so much for continuing to support me on my crazy endeavors. It truly means the world to me.
My Amazing Bloggers—Jenna, Jen, Shannon, Chasidy, Angie, Heather, Lizzie, Jamie, Ana, Amanda, Deanna, Angela, Rebecca, Alicia, Jamie, Christiana, Christiann, Kristin, Valerie, Cia, Leanne, Linda, Emilie, Shasta, Nichole, Erika, Sandra, Jade, Lena, Caroline, Jes, Tracy, Ann, & Meaghan—Thank you all so much for pimping the living hell out of each and every release that I have. Your continued support touches the bottom of my dark and twisted heart! Here’s to one year! <3
My cover designer, Clarise—Over a year of reading each other’s minds and coming up with these gorgeous covers. I am so blessed to have an amazing designer like you by my side. Thank you so much for all you do!
My Author tribe—You guys rock my world. I know that we all constantly support each other over and over again, but I cannot explain just how much each of your friendship, wisdom and insight means to me. I believe we all make each other better, and I am blessed to call you my friends.
Chas, Katie & Laura: My fabulous PAs—You help me rein in my crazy antics, keeping me somehow organized through each day. I, one hundred percent, believe that if I didn’t have y’all I’d be lost without you, and I would, let’s be real.
My Beta Bitchaz: Laura, Tania, Jenna, GG, Chasidy, Cassie & Michaela—You guys help me make everything better, you may not think that you do, but y’all do. You help me be my best self with each and every book that I publish. Thank y’all so much for stickin’ with me. <3
KBB, My Babes!—Holy. Living. Hell! How has a year passed already? I remember when I first uploaded Reign into KDP and was literally biting my lips for weeks at the fact I had published a book. Now, here we are; 365 days later. I’m not as nervous anymore, but I am excited. I’m excited for all of the crazy stuff I’ll be sending your way over the next year, and I hope y’all are too. Thank you so much!
Dedicated to Chas
If you think you’ve read that wrong, you haven’t. You aren’t just one of my fantabulous PA’s, you’re one of my dearest friends. You do so much for me and I cannot thank you enough from the bottom of my heart for your constant encouragement, on the spot feedback that I always seem to bug you with. I could go down a list of all the things that you do that I don’t give you enough credit for. I cannot express how incredibly thankful I am that this crazy book world introduced us to one another. Love you, lady! <3
Warning
This content contains material that may be viewed as offensive to some readers, including graphic language, dangerous and sexual situations, including physical abuse.
Playlist
Take You Home | Cassadee Pope
Savior | Iggy Azalea ft. Quavo
Daddy Issues | Demi Lovato
Wanna Be Missed | Hayley Kiyoko
Dark Side | Phoebe Ryan
100 Letters | Halsey
In Your Phone | Ty Dolla $ign ft. Lauren Jauregui
Supernova | Ansel Elgort
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Epilogue
Free Chapters 1 - 3 - Promised
Coming Soon—Cherished
Chapter 1
When they can’t find anything wrong with you, they create it. -Anonymous
Natasha
A shrill noise hits my ears, pulling me out of my deep slumber. I take off the sleep mask from my face and sit up in bed, before reaching my hand over to pop the button that will shut this fucking thing up. No matter where you go; luxury splendor or a cheap motel, the alarm clocks always sound like banshees rising from the darkness.
Blinking my eyes, I am pleased to find there is little light to adjust to. Just how I wanted it to be. I didn’t want to wake up until it was at least seven p.m. after the morning we had, getting straight off the plane to go shopping, but what else should a girl do when she is on a trip in Miami? If I am going to be here, I am going to look the part. That is exactly how my best friend, Bethany felt as soon as she arrived as well. It just so happened that we were wiped out when we got back to the hotel and needed a cat nap before we continued our day, or night rather.
Looking to the bed that sat next to me, I realize that Bethany isn’t there. My first thought is that she woke up early and went down to flirt wi
th the cute bellboy. She was always like that, and they flirted right back. It didn’t help that she looked like she just stepped out of Baywatch or something with her flat stomach and long blonde hair. Not that I don’t have my good looks as well, but they just aren’t that kind.
When I hear retching in the bathroom, I am acutely aware that flirting, is not where Bethany ended up. Instead, I go to the edge of the large bathroom to find her worshipping the toilet like a shrine, trying to keep those blonde locks I described, out of the muck that is filling the toilet bowl. “What’s the matter, Beth?” I ask her with concern, keeping my distance as much as possible. I won’t lie, I am one of those girls who vomit from the mere sight of anyone else completing the act. I am not in the mood to puke my guts out on our girl’s trip to Miami. Nope. Not happening. Though, I feel terrible for my friend.
“I’m thinking sushi at lunch was a bad idea… maybe I have food poisoning,” she commented, looking up with her miserable, beady, ice blue eyes.
I frown at her. “No, don’t tell me you can’t do tonight. We have been planning this trip for ages, and tonight we were finally going to check out the club everyone’s been raving about. We have to go,” I beg her, knowing it’s useless. I can’t force her to go to the club with me. It's just not right, but the disappointment is heavy.
I watch as she tries to get up off the floor and make her way to the sink to clean up her face and teeth, flushing the toilet behind her. She looks pretty pale, come to think of it, and I seriously worry that she needs to see a doctor. “I think I need to take you to the hospital or something. You’re pretty pale, and food poisoning can be bad news,” I tell her.
“Hah!” she scoffs. “Natasha, food poisoning of all things is not going to kill me, especially at the beginning of our Miami trip. No. It will be gone by tomorrow. I’ll just stay here and puke it all out, and you go to Riske without me,” she urges. I don’t like it one bit. It doesn’t feel right for her to wallow in her pain while I get to check out the hottest club in Miami. It feels selfish. “Stop overanalyzing and just go. I go clubbing all the time, plus, those upscale places aren’t for me. I like to get down with the low lives,” she jokes before gagging again.
I shake my head and go over to the small wardrobe where our dresses are. I made sure to carry them in garment bags from the shop and hang them up as soon as I got here. Part of the perfect trip is looking perfectly hot.
I thumb through the options and go for the one that stands out most, the one I was almost hesitant to wear. It has this black mesh that covers the back of it, showing off so much skin, it should be illegal. The only saving grace is the fact that it has this pattern of black covering up the front. It lends itself to some kick-ass cleavage though, my greatest asset.
“Can I borrow your black dress?” I ask Bethany. I have to admit that it’s gorgeous.
“Go for it!” she calls back to me.
I drop my clothes to the ground and carefully pull the dress over my body. It is fitting me like a second skin just like it is meant to. I place my hair at the front of my body and walk over to where Beth is now on her bed, looking like she might pass out. I have to have her zip the thing up. “Damn, you are going to get hit on by everyone who sees you tonight,” she tells me as I feel the cool glide of the zipper along my spine.
I laugh. “That's kind of the point, I think.” I top it off with a little makeup; black eyes and red lips. That’s all I need. My complexion is too nice to gunk up with anything else. I slip on a pair of strappy silver heels; a pair of shoes I know will garner attention but also that I will be able to dance in. There is no point in going to a club unless I can dance half the night away.
I give one last sympathetic look to my best friend who now has her eyes closed before I leave the room, heading downstairs to the lobby where there will be a shuttle waiting for me. Being rich sometimes comes with issues, politics, and judgment from the outside world, but it also means I get free shit like this from time to time. Perks we call it.
When I get to Riske, I decide to wait in line like a good girl instead of using my influence, or my money, to get in quicker. Instead, I choose to watch who they let in and who slaps cash into the hand of the man in charge of the door. It is clear to me that Beth was right. This is an upscale club; the kind frequented by those with millions and millions of dollars; people with families like mine.
The door opens again to let a couple in; an older man with a trophy wife who does nothing but smiles brightly. I crane my neck to get a glimpse of the inside, and while I am met with the booming of the bass from the music, I see nothing but black.
Finally, I am at the front of the line and glad I picked the shoes that I did. These things are the bomb like really, they are so comfortable for heels. I hardly notice they are on besides the height they give me.
They let me in and tell me to watch my step. I see now why I couldn’t tell anything on the outside. I have to go down a set of velvet covered stairs. Yes, that’s right, velvet. I get to the bottom and have to push back a curtain, the music already shaking my whole body with its volume. As I step out, I am stunned to stillness while I just take it all in; the most brilliant design for a club I have ever seen. And as I walk, I just keep discovering more parts of it.
All the furniture in the lounge areas are made of the same plush velvet as the stairs I took to get in, and there are all different colors surrounding me. It’s like each corner has its own theme. Looking up at the ceiling there is a chandelier that looks like it belongs in a castle rather than a nightclub, and the bar covers one whole wall. The cabinets are all a sleek black and the bar itself is completely glass, making it look as cold as ice. It makes me want a drink. As I saunter over to get one, I can see a corridor that leads outside and it makes me want to see even more of this place. So, I grab myself a silver tequila martini and savor one sip, before I take the drink on the go, walking out into the open air.
Out here there are leather seats and small tables where people sit and chat, many vaping or smoking. The music is faint and the crowd more subdued.
I go back in where the song has changed and decide to look up and check out what I can see on the second floor. There is a clear VIP section, covered by translucent curtains and a balcony above that where many watch the dancers below.
I sip at the most delicious martini I have ever had and watch the dance floor, the place I really want to be, and I will, as soon as this drink gets into my stomach. I close my eyes as the sweetness of the sugar around the rim mixes with the sour tart taste of the tequila while it burns down my throat. Some sins just feel too much like Heaven to let go.
I set my glass back on the bar before going to the dance floor, feeling the beat beneath my feet as I blend into the crowd. It is body to body in this place, and damn I have to admit they are all beautiful bodies. Many may be that way due to plastic surgery, but we all look good together as we sway to the beat and rub against each other; male; female; doesn’t matter. This is the way I like it. I like to get lost in places, in moments. That's how I feel it should be for everyone lest it be the last one you get.
I feel the music in my body and the energy everyone else is feeling in here as an awesome song comes on and takes me over. I am sweating and partying, shaking my ass to my girl Iggy Azalea like my life depends upon it. My hair is starting to cling to the sides of my face with sweat, and this is what tells me I am meant to be here and enjoying this. It would only be made better by Beth right here with me. I’m going to make damn sure she gets to come here with me before we both leave to go back home.
The song ends, and I think I need another drink, and maybe to cool off. I squeeze back through to the bar and lean over, hoping the busy bartender will see my tits and come help me before whoever is next. Instead, I hear an authoritative voice from behind me. “You have been requested upstairs.”
I whip around so fast; my hair almost hits this guy in the face. He doesn’t flinch, though, and I survey him in his perfectly tailored suit. Who is
this asshole? I laugh at him, thinking it’s some joke from a drunk man trying to get some. There always has to be one clown at the rodeo, right? I tap him on the chest mid-cackle, but again, I get no reaction. His face is so damn serious I have to stop.
“You have been requested upstairs, and I will be taking you there,” the man repeats. Well, fuck, I think he means it.
“Whatever, let’s go,” I say to the goon and follow him to the stairs that lead directly up to the VIP section I saw when I first came in and looked up. At first, I feel excited to get to see what it’s like up here. It only takes thirty seconds for me to remember that there is someone I never want to see again; someone that could be requesting my presence. A wave of fear rolls through me as the name Rusev is at the tip of my tongue. Could he be here? It would be a place he would want to be, and of course, the fact that I am here is just an added bonus. Is he the one who requested me?
Shaking, he appears to me in my mind almost as if he is right in front of me. No matter what I do or where I go he is always with me, haunting me. I see his eyes, the eyes that always had something hidden inside of them, and I hear his voice in my ear. It sends an unwanted chill down my spine, and I hold my breath as this goon leads me to a secluded area in the corner and moves back the curtain to let me behind it.
A sigh of relief comes out of me as I see it is not Rusev, or anyone related to him in any way, as far as I can tell. I allow myself to scan over him and notice his unique looks. This man has his dishwater blonde hair slicked back and dark contrasting eyes almost as black as a starless sky. I can tell even from his sitting position that he is tall, taller than me in my highest heels. I catch him looking me over as well. I wonder if he likes what he sees. He must if he had someone fetch me for him.
“Thank you for retrieving her, Egor. You are dismissed.” The man’s voice comes out calm, smooth, and authoritative, and then the goon leaves us alone, just like that. The thick curtain and the fact that we are surrounded by walls on the other three sides make this a private room, and I wonder what he wants from me in here. I wonder what I will give.