Chapter 17

Ronan really did turn down the blow job I offered him, though I know I shouldn't pout about it, not when he has business to take care of and so do I.

Dylan managed to get a novelty condom with a weird rubber ball on the tip stuck up his ass, but luckily Whitney, our full-time nurse on staff, was able to get it out. I walk back into Whitney's room, where Isla—the girl Ronan brought in—sits on the bed holding a cotton ball to the inside of her arm.

"How long do the results take to come back?" she asks.

"Twenty-four hours," Whitney replies.

"You all done here?" I ask Whitney, and she nods. "Good, let's go to my office, Isla, and fill out some paperwork."

Isla slides off the bed and follows me into the hall. "I'm going to give you the tour now and run through the rules with you."

We head to Dylan's room, since he's taking a break. "Hey, Angel," he says as we step inside.

"Dylan, this is Isla. If her tests come back clean, she will start here tomorrow night." Isla blushes as she looks at Dylan. "And don't fall for his charm—monogamy isn't in his vocabulary."

"Why you gotta to do me like that, boss? I fuck good."

"We are ignoring you," I say. "Now, when a client comes in, they pay the house, and you get a cut. Then one of the front desk girls will bring them to your room and tell you how long they have booked. Once they are in here, it's your job to make sure everything goes smoothly. As soon as they walk in, you go over the rules. They have already been told them by the house, so don't let them bullshit you. If they do not pay for extras, they do not touch. If they refuse to shower or get checked properly, you end the booking, no exceptions. Any booking ended because they broke the rules, they won't get their money back. If you end a booking because they push beyond your stated boundaries, there is no refund. If they want to pay for extras, they can pay you in cash, or you are welcome to purchase your own EFTPOS or Stripe machine. All extras you keep one hundred percent of the money, so you can also set your own prices, but I'd recommend speaking to some of the other girls before you set your price list.

"Condoms are nonnegotiable—you get caught not using one, and it's instant dismissal. After they shower, you wear gloves and check to make sure their genitals don't have any lumps, bumps, or scratches. If they do, you end the booking. We will give them their money back in that instance, but ban them from coming back unless they agree to be retested and bring a copy of their results. I will give you a folder which has all the rules printed out for you to read and remember. For bookings which occur outside the premises, these are only allowed with our vetted members, and you are required to wear a discrete tracking device, which is normally in jewelry. Any questions?"

"Is there a panic button?"

I nod. "Yes, in every room. They are all fitted with a camera, and we have someone who monitors them every shift. We also have security throughout the building."

She nods. "Okay, this all seems too good to be true. What's the catch?"

"No drugs or alcohol, we don't do addicts. You want to smoke some weed, great, and a casual drink is also okay. We will give you a grace period, but turn up wasted, and you're out."

She nods. "I'm not an addict. I needed to get away from my mother and Money G offered me work—high end clients who paid well. He is going to be pissed when I don't come back."

"Don't worry about your pimp," Dylan says. "Her men run this town, so he won't be able to touch you."

I narrow my eyes at Dylan. "She hasn't signed the NDA yet, so shut your damn mouth."

Dylan laughs. "Sorry, boss."

"I hope your ass hurts," I tell him, and he flips me off as I lead Isla out of the room.

"You can pick a name if you don't want to use your real identity," I say as we walk into my office, where she takes a seat opposite mine, and I slide a folder across the desk to her. "I need you to fill this out, and I will need to take a copy of your ID. Everything we do here is legal, so take those forms and fill them in and return them to me. The NDA is important—you can't talk about the men or women who come through these doors. I'm not saying you can't give minor details to your girls and laugh about what you do, just under no circumstances can you repeat their names if you know them, or anyone else's who comes in here."

"I get it. Liam once told me his nephew was the head of the Irish Mafia."

I snort. Hearing her call them the Irish Mafia, I can see why they all laughed at me when I said it. "Something like that, but I wouldn't recommend ever repeating it. My protection only goes so far, and my pussy is good, but not that good. I will also mention, do not touch my men." Her eyes go wide. "Yes, plural. It might be safer to say if they have an Irish accent, stay away from them."

I don't think they would go near any of my girls, but it doesn't stop me from laying my claim. Leaning back in my chair, I close my eyes. Fuck, when did I become the psycho bitch who claims her man?... Men.

"There is also some money in there to buy yourself something nice to wear. You will mainly be naked in your room, but outside of it you are to cover your tits and pussy. If my men see them, I won't be a nice person to work with."

"Noted. What time should I come back tomorrow?"

"Come in at four. The night shift starts at six. Daytime staff come in via appointment only. You will get an access card, and do not lose it or lend it to anyone, as it is registered to you. The Range is a great place to work—I have loved most of my time here."

"How long have you worked here?" she asks.

"Almost five years, but I no longer work the floor. I don't think people dying every day would be good for business."

"So, are you my pimp now?"

I throw my head back and laugh. Shit, we do not have pimps here. "No, I'm your boss and you are my employee. We take a slightly higher cut, but that goes to paying the security we have on the premises, and it was agreed to by all the staff after we had an attack. Now no one gets through that door without being buzzed inside, and they have to walk past a security guard. We take our workers' safety seriously."

Isla nods as Bells pops her head into my office. "Are you ready for me to give the newbie the full tour?"

"Yes, but make sure you show her the areas she is not allowed near as well."

Isla gets up and follows her out of the room, and I can hear Bells instantly start talking her ear off. Let's just hope I made the right choice. I'm glad I found Lady Maine when I did, or I could have ended up on the streets; it really isn't safe out there.

Not even an hour later, and I'm bored out of my mind. It's the downfall to not having clients; I don't have all that much to do. Normally, one of the guys comes in and amuses me, but I knew eventually they would have to go back to their business.

The door to my office opens and Ronan steps inside. He directs a half smile at me and flops down onto the sofa.

"Are you okay?" I ask as I get up from my chair.

"I will be—it's been a shit day. Cops, family stabbing me in the back, hookers, and death. I sent the others home, but I needed to see you."

"I'm glad you did," I say, straddling his lap. His hands go straight to my ass and pull me into his body. "I need to ask you something and I will only ask one time. It's best we get it out and done with while you are already having a shit day."

"You can ask me anything, anytime," he says.

"Are you laundering money through The Range? Because I can't be involved in that type of shit."

Ronan smiles at me, and I hate when he and Cian do that—their teeth are stupid straight and so white it's not natural.

"No, I do not launder money through any of the businesses I own or once owned. That would be stupid. I outsource it," he says with a wink.

"Good, because the fucking cops tried to make it seem like that's the only reason you would have given me The Range."

Ronan shakes his head and stands abruptly. He spins me around so I am lying on my back on the sofa, and he is between my legs, his chin resting on my pubic bone.

"First, I didn't give you The Range. You are paying it off because you are stubborn and don't like handouts. Second, you need to be prepared. They will do whatever they can to get in your head. Third, do not be surprised if they randomly show up at the places you frequent and try to be friendly. If it happens, it is fine to engage in conversation, but be aware they are not your friends and never will be."

I nod. "Will it be like this forever?"

Ronan pulls the top of my shorts down a little and presses a kiss to my skin. "Depends... are you planning on giving us a son?"

I choke on my spit. "What sort of question is that, Ronan? I don't even know if I want kids, and if I did, there is no way my son would be in the fucking Mafia."

He snorts after I say Mafia and goes back to kissing a path down to my core, but I don't lift my ass so he can't remove my thong—yet.

"I'm being serious. You can't honestly tell me you would want your life for a child."

He looks at me as he licks his way back up. "Maybe not, especially as a child, but this is my life, Harper. It's all I've known."

I push him up so we are seated on the sofa, and he doesn't fight me as I stand, then straighten my clothes. "This could be a deal breaker for me," I say, putting space between us so he can't tempt me with his sinful tongue.

"Harper, come back over here so I can eat your pussy, please."

"No, I might not want kids, but how can I start something knowing you do? And you want your Mini-Me to follow in your footsteps? You have killed people."

"So have you," he throws back, and my stomach twists into knots. I turn back and level him with an icy glare.

"That's not fair. What I did was self-defense."

"And everyone I have killed, there has been a reason. Everyone who works with me has a choice. I don't force them, and they know the consequences if they fuck up. This is my life, Harper, you knew that."

"I wasn't exactly given a chance," I yell. "You stole me from Jordyn's house."

He laughs. "Oh, you mean from the Italian Mafia?"

I hear the sarcasm when he says Mafia, and I roll my eyes at him. "This is not a joke to me, Ronan. I won't bring kids into this world. If it's a deal breaker, you can walk your fine ass right out the door."

Ronan stands from the sofa. "No kids at all?" he says, and I shake my head as he takes a step toward me. "Cian might have an issue with that."

I shrug. "He can fuck right off."

He gets closer, and I step backward until my back hits the door. "Can I tell you a secret?" he asks, and I nod as he steps in front of me. His hands come down on either side of my head. "I fucking hate kids—I was only joking. I don't want children, but I would love to practice, over and over again. Though Cian might really have an issue."

"Well, fuck Cian," I say.

"Or don't fuck him. Who cares what happens when I retire? Someone else can take over. If I had a child, they would be first in line, but since I don't want any, it probably means Darragh's girls?—"

"No, absolutely not. Those sweet girls will not be turned into killing machines."

Ronan smirks. "I don't know, Sadie has that look."

I laugh, well aware he is stirring me up.

"Don't worry, they're safe. It has to be someone with O'Brien blood, so any offspring from Darragh or Van cannot take over. I have a half-brother, so I will probably recruit one of his sons."

I open my mouth to argue, but he cuts me off by bringing his mouth down over mine.

Well played, Ronan. Well played.