Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 92190 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 461(@200wpm)___ 369(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92190 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 461(@200wpm)___ 369(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
Which doesn’t bother me all that much, but the whiplash is a lot.
But it’s expected from a man who is used to the entire world revolving around him.
I hope he leaves me alone so I can do my job.
I’m going to prove to him that although he changed my job role on a whim, I’m the best person for the job, even though I’m equally as fantastic at shaking my ass.
CHAPTER 17
Dutton
I’ve been gone for almost two weeks. It’s the final evening of my trip as I bring a new business venture to a close. After taking my new business partner to the most recent gentlemen’s club I opened, he seems impressed with the opportunity to traffic drugs through it.
In Italy, I work closely within the Monti family’s reach. Although Crue and Eli are stationed in New York, business is booming here from their influence and the work my grandfather put in before them. I make these trips to ensure those we’ve put in place to run the businesses are efficient enough to maintain the family’s reign and keep the profits at an all-time high.
Realistically, I should move here to run things more personally, but I have an attachment to my family in New York, so flying here every so often will have to do.
Paulo, the man who runs everything here for us with an iron fist, stands behind me. Coming in at six foot six, he’s a tattooed Italian demon that everyone fears.
We’re in my office, which is attached to one of my three-story mansions. Although I enjoy conducting most business meetings in my clubs, this is a double-edged deal tonight.
I shake my new business partner’s hand and wait until he leaves before I pour a whiskey for myself and one for Paulo. He never drinks on the job but thanks me for it anyway.
“Are they here?” I ask, a lethal buzz cascading over my skin. One thing we take very seriously is our staff’s safety. The sex industry can be a dangerous place, and although I’m not above certain nefarious dealings, the safety of my staff is absolute. It’s the foundation of everything my father taught me. Having primarily female employees, and with a younger sister, I take all acts of misconduct seriously.
“Yes,” Paulo says as we head to one of my favorite rooms in the house. One of my other security guys opens the door expectantly. I take a sip of the whiskey as he presents the two naked men gagged and tied to chairs. Plastic tarps have been stretched out beneath them. Their eyes go wide as I enter.
“Gentlemen, it would appear we have business to conduct,” I say conversationally as I place my whiskey on the small tray to my left. Beside it are three knives of various sizes. After giving them each a moment of consideration, I choose my favorite.
Paulo places both of his hands behind his back as he stands behind the door, watching with keen interest. The men try to speak through their gags, but I don’t care for their apologies because what they did was inexcusable.
They’re both shaking with fear. One has pissed himself already.
I roll up my sleeves.
I never considered myself an artist, but I never looked back when I discovered the joy and creativity in carving messages into flesh. I was fifteen years old when I carved into the chest of an eighteen-year-old who had tried to usher my sister into his car when she was only fourteen. It was the first hunt Eli and I had done together, right before we were introduced to the twins.
While Eli enjoys outright torture, I prefer a more clinical approach to my art. I leave them with something that will shame them even after they’re dead. Not that anyone ever finds the body afterward.
“I’ve learned that you drugged one of our dancers and sold her to a client for the night.” Paulo brought it to my attention the moment the girl broke down to him about it, and we’ve been dealing with the clean-up ever since. The only reason it was able to happen in the first place was because these two were the hired security. I know this is fact because I already carved into and got rid of the client who paid them handsomely for the act. I vet all of those I hire, but sometimes cockroaches like these fall between the cracks.
I tap the edge of the knife against my chin thoughtfully. What should I carve on their chests? I begin with the letter “R,” carefully slicing into the first man’s flesh. He screams as I deeply carve into his chest while explaining to him how he brought this on himself.
I find this relaxing. I’m always running at high tension levels, and a release is necessary. Being in the sex industry, the act of having sex has become fundamentally not essential for me. This, however, satisfies me.