Page 16

My father chose to take everything away from me. He might be bigger, angrier, and more adept at killing than I am right now, but it won’t be that way forever. He’s not invincible. One day he’s going to die, and mark my words, I’ll be the one who pulls the trigger.
“Are you listening boy?” his voice is loud, pummeling through my thoughts, along with the slap that he delivers to the back of the head.
“Yes sir,” I mumble beneath my breath.
“Ryker here is heading everything up. He’s first in command, so what he says goes. The decisions, they are his to make. Understand though, you are second in command, and that me-”
“What that means,” Ryker interrupts, “is that sometimes I’ll consult you for things, sometimes I won’t. If anything ever happens to me, you’ll be expected to step up. Also, you need to know and understand that I’m the business,” he pauses, rolling the sleeves of his expensive grey dress shirt up, “and you’re the brawn. Understood?”
I eye him up and down, assessing this asshole, formulating an opinion. I already don’t like him. Something about him rubs me entirely the wrong way. His eyes are cold and dead, and his sinister smile is nearly demonic. He has no soul.
Great. Partnered with a psychopath.
“And the business?” I cross my arms over my chest, lean back in my seat and glare at him as I kick my feet up on the table.
The high rise we are sitting in is fancy as fuck, and it’s really not my style. His Armani suit screams money, but none of this will ever be me. I guess it’s the one perk to being the brawn, I don’t have to look any certain way.
Wow, what a fucking perk.
Sucking his teeth, he shakes his head slightly and taps on the thick wooden conference table with the tips of his fingers, before responding.
“I suppose we should discuss those in some sort of capacity.”
“Yeah,” I snort, “I suppose.”
“Alright, well, there’s the clubs. Oasis is just a night club. Dancing, drinks, VIP lounges, the whole nine yards. We launder some money through it but for the most part it’s pretty clean.”
“Ok, and?”
“And,” he sighs, “there’s Afterlife. The strip club. It’s legit on paper and on the outside, but we have a special clientele we cater to. Ones with, certain tastes. We have back rooms for those clients. And those clients are a big chunk of our bread and butter.”
My stomach churns and I don’t think I want to know anymore, but I find myself asking anyway.
“So you’re a pimp?”
Running his hand through his blonde hair, he chuckles loudly and my father growls from the seat next to me.
“Call if whatever you want man, but pussy sells.”
Yep, stomach just keeps on churning.
“Then of course there’s the drug operations. The Brotherhood sticks to the east side of Havok Hills, and the west side is Reaper territory. For now, we stay out of the west side. I’m not ready for an all out war, but one of these days, I will own it all.”
Awesome, so this is what my entire future is going to look like. Working with some lunatic, selling drugs, selling sex, and fighting over territory in this shitty city. It makes no sense to me that my father is so adamant I take over for him. Why he would give a shit about our name being tied to this? Is a legacy really that fucking important? Why can’t he just keep being second and keep me the fuck out of this?
Running my hands through my hair, I simply nod in response.
Dropping my feet, I spin in my chair, facing my father, “So where does all this leave you?”
His throat constricts and his lips tighten, but he doesn’t open his mouth, instead he meets me with a stern gaze and then he turns away.
“Teddy is… useful. Don’t you worry about that junior,” Ryker interjects.
Whatever the fuck that’s supposed to mean.
“Actually, Teddy. Is he ready?”
“I’m right here,” I grit through my teeth.