Chapter One

Grace dances in the middle of the floor with fuckers eyeing her young, feminine figure as she shakes it, and I want to line them up and run my blade across their necks as I rush by in a furious rage, but I hold it together because she's trying to have a good time.

Grace is nineteen and celebrating her birthday with a night out with her only friend. After having a late start, she was forced to finish high school a year later than most, so she's letting loose tonight.

The Miami heat can be unforgiving, but tonight is a cool night. The club is packed with bodies heating the room, even with the air turned to a cool sixty-five. I run one of the most expensive and classiest dance clubs in the city that caters to the young and wealthy. Still, I don't trust the rich fucks wanting my little sister in her skimpy outfit.

My eyes scan the room, and I don't spot the little harlot. I had instantly taken a disliking to her friend, Camille Jones, from the second she stepped in my way. She screamed opportunist a million miles away with her snake eyes leering at me, but I wasn't an easy mark for a little girl like that. So, with a warning glare, I sent the little girl running. Still, I didn't want the girl loose in my club doing the hell knows what.

I walk up to my muscle, Adriano, and ask, "Have you seen the little tramp that came in with my sister?"

"Last I saw her, Rocco was escorting Ms. Jones to the restroom." Oh, that's good, because my men know the rules and would keep her well behaved. I gaze toward the restrooms on the other end and see the line is long. My brows knit together, and I turn to Adriano for answers. "That was about ten minutes ago, and the line is getting long."

"What the fuck?" We have more than enough stalls for the ladies. It was a big thing to ensure we didn't have long damn lines, so what is going on? Normally I'd leave that shit to someone else, but my gut tells me this has something to do with Grace's friend.

I'm walking toward the door when I hear a woman say with a mouth full of disgust, "Damn. I didn't realize they allowed that in the club."

I confront the woman, who flinches and then stares at me with intrigue, as most women do. "Excuse me. What is allowed in the club?"

"There's someone getting…" She shakes her fist back and forth from her mouth, mimicking a blow job. Motherfucker.

"Thank you. Excuse me. One minute." I rush past all the ladies.

"Any time, handsome. If you want the same…" I feel the air shift as she reaches for me, but I'm already out of reach. Still, I have a point to make, fixing the clear misunderstanding about the behavior permitted in my establishment.

I turn back and glare. "You do that in my club, and you'll be out on your ass." The realization of who they just met washes over their overly painted faces, and it pleases me. Fear sets in, and they step back.

Now, back to the mission at hand. I slam the door open to find Rocco spraying Camille in the face in the middle of the ladies' room. Somehow, I expected no less.

"Get the fuck up off your knees and wash up. You will not be going anywhere with my sister." I address my piece-of-shit employee next. "Rocco, you're lucky I don't put a bullet in your head. Get the fuck out of my face." They're both quick to straighten themselves up from a sight I didn't need to see.

"Sorry, Boss. It's just…" My fist lands on his face before he gets to finish whatever he has to say.

"What part of ‘get the fuck out of my face' didn't you understand?" As the boss, I don't repeat commands, and the bastard made two mistakes tonight.

I storm up to my office to wash my hands and check for any blood. Luckily I'm clean because I'd have to give Rocco an extra couple gut checks for it otherwise.

Digging out my cell from my inner suit jacket pocket, I call Gabriele, my underboss, because I have to cut Gracie's party short. Despite the noise in the club, he's quick to pick up. "Yeah, Boss."

"I need you to escort my sister home, and don't let her give you any shit. I have matters to deal with here tonight, and she brought trouble to my club."

"Will do. What about her friend?" he asks.

My blood boils, remembering what I witnessed. She doesn't need to be sending my sister down that slutty path. "No, that slut can call herself an Uber or pay someone else with a blow job for a ride."

"Yes, Dame." Gabriele doesn't have to ask questions and handles matters swiftly. My father doesn't trust many men to guard my sister, but in addition to Adriano, my underboss is one of the few allowed to guard her, but I need him for my business tonight.

"Don't let me down. I need to have a talk with Rocco when the club closes, so get her home safely and return quickly."

"Understood." I end the call as I see my guest arrive. The pudgy bastard is already sweating, and it has nothing to do with the hot bodies grinding in the club below. He pulls out his handkerchief and swipes it across his sweaty brow with his meaty hand.

My security leads him to my office and knocks on my door just as I move to sit behind my desk. "Enter."

"Thanks for seeing me, Mr. Valentino." His platitudes aren't needed. Business is business, and the sooner I get him out of my sight, the better.

"What is it that you believe I can do for you?" I question, regretting this meeting as he sweats profusely in front of me.

"I need a temporary loan." That's what we had previously discussed when he requested an audience. He turns his attention to my wet bar, eyeing the booze nervously. Yes, I intimidate people, but Tommy Baker isn't usually intimidated by others. He's not a mobster like me, but his hands are nearly as filthy as the men he works with. He could never catch up to my darkness, but I'm interested in why he looks petrified.

"Yes, I am aware of that, but how much and for what extended period of time?" He's wasting my time by having to pull it word by word from him.

"Please explain why I should hand over $100k to a man I don't know."

"I'm a very talented businessman, Mr. Valentino."

"Obviously not that talented as you're here looking for a handout, sweating like a pig and looking awfully nervous. Why would that be?" I lean forward, staring into his cowardly soul.

"I heard of your reputation, is all," he stammers.

With a nonchalant raise of my brow, I ask, "And the loan?"

"It's a temporary situation, and the banks are not that interested in lending to a strip club owner."

"Understood." I sit back, watching him ease up. "What kind of collateral do you have to offer me, Tommy boy?"

"I could pay you back within a month."

"So you say, but that doesn't mean anything to me. You're just a man looking for a handout, Tommy. What have you got that makes this worth my time or my money? I don't hand out loans to just anyone."

"I'll put up my company."

"You mean your strip club?"

"No, I mean my investment firm."

"So you have two businesses, and you can't afford your own debts."

"I can't embezzle funds to pay off the debt of the other, Mr. Valentino."

"I don't want the investment firm. It's too much work to see its value, but a strip club could be an easy business. However, I'll only take the club if I don't get my money within the allotted time."

"Understood."

"We'll make it thirty-five days?" I offer, knowing his original suggestion was stupid and short-sighted.

"Yes, that's more than I need." He waves his hands manically.

Scoffing, I raise my hand to stop his sputtering. "You say that now, but I don't want you coming back pleading for more time because I'm not the forgiving type, Tommy."

"Yes, Mr. Valentino. Thank you." I stand up and walk to the wall safe in my office that's hidden behind paneling, and I open it while I use the bathroom mirror to watch Tommy's greedy eyes on me. He has no idea that's the reason the door is still open—or that I don't normally carry funds in there on days I don't have reason to—but I want to see what this weasel's on about.

Handing over the funds, I state, "Now—let's shake on the deal, and you can be on your way. I'm quite busy."

"Yes, Mr. Valentino. Thank you, Mr. Valentino." Many would be pleased with his sycophant behavior, but I find it suspicious, although I don't let on and send the sloppy bastard on his way. I head to the bathroom immediately to wash his stink off my hands.

****

"Rocco, what the fuck am I going to do with you?" I ask of one of my favorite soldiers. He's been with me for four years, and I'd hate to have to drill a bullet in his ass. "Give me one good reason, Rocco."

"Boss, I didn't mean to do it. She was hot, and she slipped me a pill when she kissed me. Before I knew it, I was feeling really fucking good…too good." If she gave him something, it could explain why he would break my club rules for a quick release when he could easily have taken her out to his vehicle.

Fisting his hair, I drag his head back and stare into his beady eyes. "You wouldn't be lying to me, would you?" I ask, reading him.

"No, I swear, Boss. You can test me. I swear it's still in my blood."

"Call the doc," I tell Gabriele. "If you're lying, I'll chop your balls off. You weren't supposed to kiss the teenager in the first place, but there are better places to blow your load than in my club and ruining my reputation." My place has class for a reason. It keeps the cops from digging into it and my other assets, and it's the way I'd prefer to maintain it.

"She caught me off guard." There's no doubt about it. Camille has a practiced way about her. Foolishly, she tried to use it on me, and I immediately shunned her advances. If that bitch tried to slip some drugs to me, I would have slit her fucking throat.

"That's because you're weak and you're just interested in chasing pussy all night. You're on my shit list. Any more fuckups, and it will be the last thing you do. Understood, Rocco?"

"Yes, Boss." He bows profusely, thanking his lucky stars that I didn't just whip out my gun and put a bullet in his head for defying my orders. The doctor arrives within ten minutes.

I stand up and round my desk to shake his hand. "It's good of you to come so quickly."

He looks exhausted, which means he probably had been on call when I summoned him. "I was at the scene of an OD at the strip club down the road." I was right. Another reason I don't want drugs and sex in my club. "What can I do for you?"

I point to the jackass sitting on my sofa. "Rocco believes he was given some sort of drug that made him horny enough to violate my club's policy. I want to know if he's lying. He said it was slipped onto his tongue."

"I'll take blood and urine samples as well as a cheek swab." Nodding, I wave him off and let the doc do his work while I move back to my chair and go over this evening's numbers. Once the doctor's done, I thank him and send both of them on their way, but not before paying the good doctor for his expedited services.

Once they are gone, I pour Gabriele and myself a drink. Handing one over to him, I take a seat on the edge of my desk and ask, "How did my sister take her dismissal?"

He takes a long pull of his whiskey before twirling the tumbler in his hand. With a sigh, he answers, "As you'd expect. First, I was blamed, and then she complained that you ruined her night."

Just as I expected. My sister is a lot like my mother, but sometimes I see my father in her. "I'll tell my father to make it up to her, although I would like to have a talk with Grace tomorrow before work. Let's head out of here before I find someone's head to smash in today."

He rolls his head and cracks his neck, tension vibrating off him. "Sounds good to me. There were several guys you could have lined up after the way they were eye fucking little Gracie."

"Don't remind me." We leave in the early morning hours, and I head over to my parents' estate because I want to speak with my sister when she wakes, so it's best that I just stay the night. My head hits the pillow in my old bedroom where I easily pass out for my normal five hours.

****

I'm at my parents' home waiting for my sister to speak to me, but she's staring at her food like she's ready to kill her bacon all over again. "It's already dead."

"Pity. Just like my dating life. Don't you have someone else's life to ruin?"

"Not yet. Not until I straighten some shit out with you."

"There's nothing to straighten out. You told me that I could come to your club and you wouldn't ruin my night, but you did anyway. I could have gone anywhere else and had a great time for my birthday."

"Look at me, Hummingbird. I didn't fuck up your night. Your little slut friend did that."

"What does this have to do with Camille? Just because she hit on you? Come on—like women don't try to hit on you."

"It wasn't that. I caught her in the bathroom with one of the guys, violating my club rules."

"What?"

"Yes. I was livid. People were talking about how the club operates."

"So why did I have to go?"

"Everyone saw you together. If anyone said a damn thing about you, I would have slit throats that night."

"Maybe I should stay away from your club."

"You know damn well Dad will not allow you to go anywhere else. I just don't want that whore with you."

"Understood."

"I'm sorry, Hummingbird. Don't take it out on Gabe. He was just protecting you."

"Protecting me? He was snarling at every single man that approached me."

"Exactly. You have no idea how many times I considered killing all of them last night. You're my baby sister, and those perverts only want you for one thing."

"Because I'm only worth that?"

"No, but they don't know you. All they see is a beautiful woman who was half-naked and shaking her ass all over."

"You have problems." She rolls her eyes.

"And?"

"How do you think people meet?"

"I don't know. I have no intention of having a wife or a family, so it doesn't matter to me."

"Again, Dame, you have problems."

"I love my life, Hummingbird. I just want someone who is worthy of you, but you're not going to find that hanging around with trash like Camille Jones."

"Fine, but she's not that easy to shake," Grace says, taking a drink of her orange juice.

"I could take care of her." It's an offer that I wouldn't normally make when it comes to a female, but this one is already proving to be trouble within my club and with my family.

"No. She might be promiscuous, but that doesn't mean she deserves to be buried." I suppose I may be overreacting, but I have my standards.

"Whatever. Anyone who crosses me deserves to be buried."

"Problems." She shakes her head and finally bites into her bacon, but not before I snatch another piece. "Now that's a capital offense." Smirking at her, I wink and walk away while shaking my head.