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)
“No,” I crudely cut him off.
“Are you sure? They could make you lots of money.”
“I don’t traffic women. Understood?”
“Yes, but—”
“My men will see you on Tuesday at noon, and they’ll bring the money with them.” I hung up on him.
Respect wasn’t given, it was earned, and there wasn’t a chance in hell…
I’d ever think otherwise.
CHAPTER
TWO
LUKE
I needed to make my rounds through the club for the night. I was in South Beach, Miami, and it was only the beginning of my night. My dance club was packed to the brim with people like it was every Friday night. Everyone was dressed to the nines; my drugs and my booze were all flowing through the tables.
I walked in through the back entrance, avoiding the crowds I hated. Drunken strangers grinding up against you as you tried to make your way inside was not my kind of scene. I’d already done my fair share of partying, but that didn’t stop me from joining in on the bad decisions from time to time. I needed to make nice with some of the regular high rollers, who spent a shitload of money on everything I had to offer.
When I was done, I made my way to the bar as Jake on the microphone shouted, “Let’s give it up for our new Friday night resident DJ, Duchess!”
The crowd went wild in seconds, and my stare shifted to the woman standing behind the DJ booth. She had thick, messy, long dark hair that cascaded down the sides of her exotic face. I’d been around enough women that I knew she must have been Hispanic. She looked Cuban with her green eyes, petite button nose, sharp jawline, and pouty fuck-me lips.
With one hand on the big, pink headphones she was wearing and the other on the turntables in front of her, she played a high-energy remix of “One More Time” by Daft Punk.
Moving the microphone to her mouth, she greeted, “Hola, Miami! Are you ready?”
“Yeah!” the crowd hollered.
From the looks of it, she had an impressive following, considering everyone in the club was losing their damn minds about her being there. We were at max capacity with two hundred and seventy-five guests.
“Let me hear you, South Beach!” she exclaimed with a huge smile. “Damelo!”
The crowd once again fell into a fit of euphoria. I’d never seen them this excited before. My eyes skated down the rest of her body, from the skintight black top ripped up with holes and barely covering the black bra she wore underneath to the tiny schoolgirl skirt and fishnet stockings. Her luscious, curvy body wasn’t what caught my attention the most. With her creamy, caramel skin peeking through, the scattered tattoos down her arms and stomach held me captive.
I pulled out a cigarette from my back pocket and leaned against the brick wall beside me to watch her in action. She sinfully swayed her hips to the music without missing a beat, not paying any mind to the eyes solely focused on her. I saw it happen before it actually went down—one of the men eye-fucking the shit out of her slid past the guards.
Her diehard fan immediately caged her in with his arms, pinning her against the wall behind her. My men were about to intervene, but I held my hand up at the last second, stopping them dead in their tracks. I was maybe twenty feet away from her, and even through the darkness of my club, I could still see her immediate reaction.
In one swift, fluid motion, she gripped his throat as she simultaneously spun him around to slam his back against the same wall she was just pressed up against. Quickly leaning forward, she said something in his ear before she tossed his ass across the DJ booth and into the arms of my guards.
I narrowed my eyes, cocking my head to the side in amusement. Then I nonchalantly brought the cigarette up to my lips. After inhaling a long drag, I blew out the smoke above my head, flicking the cigarette to the floor.
“Well, I’ll be damned,” I whispered to myself, stepping on the cigarette to put it out.
She didn’t let that deter her from what she was there to do. In fact, the crowd ate it up. They loved that she could handle her own when it came to him. Now, I’d seen my fair share of women kicking ass, but it was always a sight to see. Especially when she couldn’t weigh more than a hundred and twenty pounds soaking wet.
My security took care of business and escorted the interloper out. I didn’t move from the place I stood.
“You see that?” my club manager, James, asked, suddenly standing beside me.
I nodded to the DJ booth. “Who is she?”
“You’re looking at our new Friday night resident DJ. I just hired her this week. She has a huge following overseas. She’s DJ’d all over Europe, Australia, South America. Goes by the name Duchess.”