Chapter Three

As the party gets underway downstairs, my night is only beginning. Bodies dance on the floor below while the music thumps and the drinks flow throughout the club. Given my reputation, it's a money-maker with little to no trouble because no one is stupid enough to come in here and start problems—a reputation that is well deserved.

Technically, the club is a legal establishment, but that doesn't mean my actions aren't well known. I am dangerous, deadly, and take shit from no one. It's the reason my club is called Body Count. It's not the number of women to fuck, because that's the furthest thing from my mind. No—my bloodlust drives me in life, pushing me forward daily.

I may be considered the most ruthless mob boss in town. Still, the authorities mind their fucking business. Paying to have the right people in your pocket is instrumental in life. A lot of those pieces of dirt are so corrupt that they almost make me appear clean. Although, nothing could do that. I'm sick, deadly, insane. My soul is colored blood red, and my heart is darker than night.

My underboss sits across from me as we review last night's figures. "It's prosperous, as usual."

"Yes, it is," I mutter, looking at the raw sales. We're making a killing every night, but something is nagging at me. Although I can't put my finger on it, I feel it down in my marrow. It might have to do with one of my other assets because the club doesn't seem to be the issue.

Lately, there has been a lot of chatter about another family wanting to move in on my territory and practically begging for a war. It's a fight I'll gladly give them while their blood drips off my smiling face.

After twenty minutes of perusing the numbers, I close the ledger before me and glance up at my underboss with the slightest upturn of my lips. The numbers in the club for the quarter look great, which pleases me. There isn't much that satisfies me, but the success of my empire is one. Someone's head on my chopping block is my next favorite pastime.

"Something bothering you?" Gabriele asks, reading me well. We're the only two in my office. My muscle, Adriano, guards the door to prevent anyone from interrupting us while Rocco handles the prep for opening the club. Rocco's on my shit list for getting a blow job from my sister's friend in my fucking club. He knew damn well that it was against the rules for the patrons. He was lucky the test had proven he'd been drugged.

Besides the fact that I couldn't stand the slut from the second she entered my club, something about her sends an unease through me. Her motives are too devious. I wonder if she's still trying to burrow in close with Grace.

"You're lucky you know me so damn well, or I'd think I was giving myself away," I chuckle, ready to toss my pen at his head.

He smirks and adjusts his suit jacket before dropping a bombshell. "Could it be that Baker didn't invite you to his wedding?"

I sit up straight, eyebrows raising. Did I hear him correctly? "Let me get this straight. Tommy Baker is getting married?" My head twists to the side as I stare at my longtime friend and underboss. "The Tommy Baker that owes me a fuck-ton of money?" I repeat. I can't believe what I'm hearing. Running my fingers through my smooth, thick black hair, I'm shocked. No one wants to marry that fat slob, so that woman has to be getting paid big time.

He nods, sitting back in his chair. "That's the piece of shit. I learned of it this afternoon. I'm not sure who the hell Baker had to bribe for that task, but he's going to get hitched to some young woman in a couple of days or something. His bachelor party is at Scarlett's tonight."

Scarlett's is a strip club owned by Baker. It's a run-down crack den these days with hookers for strippers who give you more than a dance. Their dirty snatches pass you a disease on the way out. I almost feel bad for the dumb broad he managed to trap. Almost.

"I can't imagine getting tied to a woman." My face scrunches up, while Gabe smirks. I shake that thought out of my head with a bit of panic. Even though he's my bestfriend, I never shared my past with him, including the fact that I actually despise whores and innocent girls are rare and too good for the devil like me.

My parents are happily married, but I have no intention of putting a woman through that hell. My heart is too damn dark for that shit, especially for someone as soft as my sister or mother, who are the epitomes of sensitive and sweet. My father married a woman who was his polar opposite, and my sister is a replica of her. They are good in every way, making being mean to their sweet faces hard. Although, I will do what I must when necessary, which makes having a wife more trouble than it's worth—so much trouble that it would affect my work.

In fact, my father is so obsessed with my mother that he turned over the reins of the empire to me when I was twenty-three because he wanted to devote time to her. It didn't help that I already had a ruthless appetite, yet he still gave up everything to worship her, something I couldn't do for anyone.

The devil in me was born and bred from day one, which my father believes I got from my grandfather, who was a total bastard. Not complaining, because at one time he'd been my hero who taught me to be ruthless, but then he was my biggest enemy. He is the reason I'm the man I've become, if I can even be called a man. He taught me to be ruthless and unforgiving; the final lesson culminating when I took his life for his betrayal.

Most consider me a monster in a suit—a well-tailored suit. I'm not meant to be a husband or a father. No, I am Satan in the flesh. I enjoy ripping people's souls from their bodies for the slightest offense.

"I can't see you married either, but who would you leave your empire to?" he asks. It's the million-dollar question that my father has asked me on many occasions. He knows what I did, why I don't want a connection to anyone. I've ruled with a bloodlust since I was sixteen and haven't looked back.

"When my sister finds a husband and has kids, they will inherit it." There's a slight tic in his jaw and I wonder what that's about, but I don't have time to question him on it because we have more important matters to handle.

He rolls his wrist around to check his watch. "It's almost time for our meeting," he says.

Smirking, I think about the next order of business. The darkness that lives within me seeps out, stretching across my face with pride. "Yes. Salazar should be arriving for our private meeting."

"Do you believe we'll need a cleanup?" Gabriele asks me, looking over at my new wood floors. I had them installed to withstand heavy spills. They're easy to clean; still, we don't want a mess.

"I would prefer to have an amicable result to this evening, but you know that may not be possible." I do my best to maintain a straight face and test him.

"You'd prefer?" He tilts his head like he doesn't believe me. The fact that he can read me is starting to get fucking annoying.

I toss my hands out and say, "Okay, fair enough, old friend. I want his head on a spike, but I'd also like my money and not have a problem with the rest of his family." They're on the verge of becoming a pain in my ass. A pain I didn't need, but I never pass up a good fight.

"It's not like we can't take them all out simultaneously, but it's not impossible." Engaging in a big blood bath would be a bit sticky, and there would be the risk of others taking their place.

"True. Are you getting as bloodthirsty as I am?" I question, smirking.

"Don't give me too much credit. I just don't like the guy." I wonder why that is, but it's not the time to ask. Lately, he's been acting differently. I have a feeling there's a specific reason—or rather, a person—but it's a personal matter. We have to be ready for our guest and postpone the necessary discussion.

"Fair." I stand up and tuck the ledger away in my secondary safe, locking it up just as there's a knock at the door.

"Enter."

"Boss, we got Salazar outside," Adriano says, standing in the doorway. That motherfucker is massive and takes up the entire space. I don't know what his mama was feeding him, but I'm betting it wasn't just the fucking milk from the cows, but the entire cow since he cut his first tooth.

"Have him brought in quietly in two minutes." He nods and then exits quietly, closing the door.

I shake my head with a smirk. "Damn. It still amazes me how someone so large can move so silently." Neither Gabe nor I are small by any means, but Adriano is a tank.

"Glad he's on our side," he says.

"That's for sure. Let's get this shit over with." I take a seat behind my desk while Gabriele grabs a plastic wrap from a locked cabinet and sets it under the rug so Gus isn't spooked by its presence. Can't get what I want if he sees his death imminent. I will have to replace my nice area rug. At least I ordered several over the years for just such an event.

A knock at the door brings my nervous guest. "Hello, Gustavo. Take a seat." I glance at the bloodied lip and busted eye and know he chose to put up a fight. It might have been the smart thing to do because he's more than likely not walking out of here.

"No, I'll stand." The defiance rankles me, but I don't show it.

"I'm sure that wasn't a fucking request." He sits quickly. Gabriele stands behind him while Adriano and Vito wait by the door just in case he decides to get bold. No one is getting past them, so I'm more than at ease.

"So, we have a problem. I've been waiting a long time, Salazar. Where is my money?" It's the determining factor of whether he lives or dies tonight.

"I paid you." I chuckle, and so does Gabe because he's sealed his fate. Salazar gets more and more nervous, body rocking side to side in the chair.

I lean forward in my seat, pressing my hands firmly on my desk before I ask, "Really? In what? Imaginary funds? Monopoly money?"

"No. Maybe your guys didn't give it to you." He tilts his head, tweaking. We should have seen it sooner.

"Are you calling one of my men a thief? Be careful on that because if I have to call them on it, I'll be making sure that everyone pays double for the deceit." I stare at him, knowing he's bullshitting me. The motherfucker doesn't have two nickels to rub together. He's gotten hooked on his own supply.

"Okay, okay. I don't have it."

"So here is what's going to happen. You're going to turn over all your property to me, and I'll let you walk out of here." It's a generous offer. One that I wouldn't make to most people, but he does have some decent properties that I could use to my advantage. Besides, I'm positive he's not going to take my offer.

He tries to jump out of his chair as he protests. "Wait. Hell, no." Gabriele grabs his head and slams it back, putting a knife to his throat.

"I wasn't finished." I step around my desk and sit on the edge, directly in front of the filth who thought he could scam me. "I've given you more than enough time to pay me, so that's the deal. Take it or leave it."

"I'd rather die than give up my property." Why are these guys always so damn full of brass balls, as if I'm going to somehow back down?

"Deal," I say.

Gabriele steps back and pulls the rug as I shoot the fucker between the eyes. "Stupid bastard," Gabriele chuckles, shaking his head as Gustavo's lifeless body falls onto the plastic, limiting the mess in my office.

"He should have taken my deal." Looking at the clean rug makes me smile. "Thanks for saving the rug. I liked that one."

"Me too."