Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 79261 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 396(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79261 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 396(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
I smiled, sliding a glass of whiskey across the table.
“When are you going to become a real man and drink scotch? This shit is like water,” the man sitting across from me asked.
I chuckled, setting my glass back down on the table.
“How does it feel to have the world at your fingertips?” he asked, arching an eyebrow.
“The same way it does for you when you were alive.”
“And don’t you ever forget it, motherfucker.”
My guests and I sat at a private table on the top level, where all the private rooms were enclosed with one-way mirrors, hidden from prying eyes. I could see everything and everyone, but no one could see us. I couldn’t take a chance at being seen, not when I was having drinks with a dead man.
Alejandro Martinez was a ruthless motherfucker most would steer clear of. Those who truly knew me went as far as saying he was worse than me, but they obviously didn’t know me very well. He used to be the snake in the grass you didn’t see coming. They called him El Diablo, meaning the devil, and now his son Cruz has taken over Italy and New York.
I guess you could say Martinez was the originator and used to be the ringleader of organized crime in all parts of the world until he gave it all up for love. He was old as fuck but still enjoyed a hand of poker every so often when he was in town for one thing or another. He and my old man had history.
I’d done business with his son throughout the years, so entertaining his father was the least I could do. They were good people, and you didn’t find a lot of that in this business.
He could tell you his story, not me. He’s El Diablo after all.
Out of the corner of my eye, I caught some commotion coming from the back of the room.
“Are you seeing what I’m seeing?” Martinez questioned, following my stare.
I immediately made my way toward an unruly club member who was standing in front of where the girls performed. He was taking it upon himself to put his hands where they weren’t wanted. Angel, one of my girls, was kneeling on the edge of the stage, performing an exclusive dance for him, but this asshole was crossing the line.
I never cared much for this son of a bitch. Word around the street was he liked to slap around his wife and kid. Though I was never one to involve myself in someone else’s business, this piece of shit just involved me.
“I pay a lot of money for my membership to do whatever the fuck I want,” he snapped, gripping Angel’s face to look at him while his other hand unbuckled his belt.
“You pay for a membership, not me! I say what goes. Not you!” she shouted, trying to tug her face away from his forceful hold.
“Do we have a problem here?” I interrupted from behind him, putting my hand up to stop security from interfering.
“Yeah, we do! This bitch won’t give me a happy ending. Who the fuck does she think she is? A cock tease, trying to give me a lap dance like that’s going to get the job done! Get on your knees!” He shoved her face down to his dick.
I scoffed, slowly rolling up the sleeves of my button-down shirt as he continued to assault her. Angel could handle her own—most of my girls could. I chose them for a reason. The last thing I wanted was to babysit. My employees gave zero fucks about the business that was carried on behind these closed doors. Many of them were born into this type of lifestyle.
I finally intervened when he backhanded her with so much force, he sent her body flying across the stage. I roughly gripped his hair from behind him, catching him by surprise and knocking him on his ass. My guard was already ahead of me, opening the door to the back alley as I dragged his struggling body outside like it weighed nothing.
“What the fuck?” he spewed, stumbling to get his footing when I let him go. “This is bullshit! I’ve seen far fucking worse go down in your club than me putting that bitch in her place. What the fuck is wrong with you?”
“What are you talking about?” I calmly replied, grabbing the lid off the steel trash can beside me. “I’m just taking out the trash.”
“Who the—”
I uppercut him with the lid of the tin can and now his body was the one flying across the narrow space between us. I always was a firm believer that you reap what you sow.
“You like to hit women?” I spit, hovering above him with the lid still clenched in my grasp.
He rolled around, groaning, trying to get to his knees to get up. “Fuck you!” He spit blood at me, splattering it all over my shirtsleeves.