Page 1 of Into the Blue (Shades of Vengeance #1)

I press my knife against his throat real slow to let him feel the weight of the moment. The steel glints in the dim office’s lighting, but he doesn’t move. It’s either brave or stupid. My money’s on the latter.

“I said,” I murmur at his ear, “you answer to me now.”

His pulse ticks against the blade. He's smart enough not to beg. Would do him no good anyway. Dumber men crack by now, start pleading or pissing themselves. Allen just breathes shallow, eyes locked on my men who stand at the door blocking his exit. He’s not going anywhere until I can ensure I’m getting what I came for.

“From now—until I decide different,” I finish without relieving any of the pressure from my blade.

The glove I wear protects me from any blood that might spill, but also from any cuts since it improves my grip just in case whoever moves too much under me.

I’m somewhat impressed that Allen isn’t squirming more than this.

He swallows and I feel the motion against the edge of the knife. Still, he says, “I’m n-not your enemy.”

I lean in a fraction. “Then why the fuck were there so many addendums to the contract I sent over?”

He lifts his hands like I don’t have a knife to his neck and the sudden movement could cause a mistake that would cost him dearly. “It wasn’t meant to be a threat.”

“No?” I press the blade in just enough to make his skin tighten. “Then you’re worse than I thought. Weak ass. ”

His mouth opens, then closes. I feel the shift when the realization settles in. He didn’t just walk into a meeting to sign the dotted line. He walked into a test.

And he's failing.

I step back slowly, let the tension hang between us like smoke. My knife stays out. I don’t sheathe it. I see the flicker of doubt hit his posture.

“P-please. It’s how Manel would have wanted me to handle it. I was just following the procedure.”

That’s when I inform him, “If this deal falls apart because of you and your procedures , I’ll make sure there’s not enough left of you for your own family to recognize.”

Now he’s pale, his ruddy skin absent of all its usual ruddiness. This man, if left to his own devices, would lose this club to any given thug—like me, but they wouldn’t have the kind of direction I do.

This place would be a mockery of what Manel would have wanted. I’m saving it from the ruin it was headed for.

“I’m not signin’ any of ‘em. What I sent over was already good. For you and for me. We straight?” I question, daring him to argue again as I clean under my nails with my knife’s tip.

He clears his throat, hesitation still evident even as I take a seat across from him. “Y-yea.”

Base thumps to a sensual beat just outside the door of the office. It contrasts the heavy feeling of my energy suffocating the space. I have no actual control over its presence, but I know when someone can feel my will and when they can’t. Allen Sheedy certainly can, even from several feet away.

Redd and Marcell are behind me while Benito stands watch right outside.

Two more of my men are in the rides we came in.

I’m always five deep, if not more. Only an arrogant dick would be cavalier with their life when they move as much weight as I do.

If I have no ops, I’m already dead. Everybody has a price on my head.

I’ll be damned if I give them the opportunity just by thinking I’m untouchable.

The man in front of me wipes his forehead. If I were Allen, I’d be sweating too. I take my time reading over the original contract a final time though Allen continues to fidget with just about anything on his desk.

This isn’t a negotiation.

It’s a leash and he should feel it tightening on him.

I slide the document across the desk to him and place the pen on top, silently telling him to sign. He looks at the papers and then back to me. “And I’ll still be able to get my check at the end of the week? You know, Terrell made a part of my—”

I meet the shifty eyes of this man, smiling though I know it doesn’t read anything like joy. “Don’t like repeatin’ myself much. So, I’ll say this once and only once more. Everythin’ will go as it has before. Only difference bein’—I’m takin’ the bag home, not Terrell LaFayette Jr. Make sense?”

Typically, I’m not a gambling man. Too many factors I can’t control.

But, when my real estate agent told me this property would be the best way to wash a good portion of the money I made, I took a chance. Needed to keep the money clean and there was only one way to do it. Came with the bonus of coming up on the jackass I’d enjoy bossing up on any day of the week.

Terrell Lafayette Jr. is a smug little piece of shit who rides the wave of his daddy’s success like it’s the fucking state fare Merri-go-round.

He’d been snatching strip clubs and turning them into something I didn’t want to happen to Off Topz.

Didn’t want the smack, snow or pixie dust in here and I didn’t want to see more of his men when I was here to chill.

Where there’s snow, there’s addicts and crack heads were just annoying.

He’d have to get more of Fayes in here to control them.

All in all, annoying and I’d rather take this place instead.

Junior fucked up somewhere along the way and couldn’t afford to keep the place in whatever partnership he wanted with Manel. Like I give a fuck. Junior can keep losing and I’ll keep scooping up more and more for my empire.

After my split from working with the Lafayette Family, the Fayes, I knew he was the first to feel the disdain I held toward the whole family. As he should. It’s because of him I made the decision and I stand by it one hundred percent .

Off Topz is one of the best strip clubs in town, so I’ve been here more weekends than I can count.

The food isn’t half bad and the drinks are strong.

Hell, the women they employ are some of the best in the state, I’m sure.

It was neutral ground for everybody who does business in this area.

You didn’t have to worry about being shot at while you had a drink after a long day.

And the days get to be very long doing what we do.

For the Duponts, to be in charge of this place, reaping the benefits of clean money and knowing the Fayes will still patron it is… frankly, good business.

Nothing makes me happier than good business.

Allen attempts to make space in the neckline of his polo shirt, pulling at the fabric as his throat works.

I cross my arms over my chest and let the full weight of my impatience press on him before he splutters, “Ye-yes. Makes sense. I will let everyone know you have taken over operations. Will we have a ceremony or so-somethin’ for Manel?

” I don’t respond quickly enough and he continues rambling.

“He was a good boss. The girls loved him. He kept them safe. Made this club what it is. I—”

Manel Corolla was the late owner of Off Topz.

He was a jovial man who laughed too much for my liking.

However, I’d never fault him for the way he handled business.

He kept the cops out of this place and made sure the underbelly of Clayton Terrace had a place to call home.

Many deals were brokered and alliances were formed here.

But most importantly, his untimely death led to solving a problem I had.

“Look. Don’t care about any of that. If it don’t interfere with the money, do whatever you want.”

Allen swipes a hand over the back of his forehead again. “Okay.” He looks over to the door where Redd and Marcell watch and wait for any signal from me to step in.

Benefits of being King.

But where there are benefits, there’s plenty of drawbacks.

The biggest one right now is the inconsistency I’ve seen in my business.

Money is moving weird through my ranks and runners are encountering more and more attempts to take what’s mine or pinch a little for themselves without my say-so.

The drawback of cutting ties with the Fayes who previously handled all that business before.

Now, it’s solely my responsibility until I can figure it out.

The only ones who know about my growing concerns on the issue are in my court as king.

Redd, my first regent or second in command, Vert and Geno, my second and third regents, respectively.

Top tier and tight lipped. While there hasn’t been a pattern to the way everything is going, I know I’m only as powerful as my power seems. If anyone gets wind they can come up on me, then there will be plenty others who think they can follow suit.

Hence, my acquisition of a proper… laundromat, if you will.

My money is dirty and a typical accountant is out of the question.

I had too many hands on my dough. It was too easy for mistakes to be made.

Don’t have time to chase down every little problem or dollar when moving green in the South has enough risks piled up against us.

Allen here might be sweating through his dry-fit polo, but he does good work. Manel talked about how he was never worried about the cash flow because Allen kept him on top.

Now, Allen is going to keep me on top.

I give him a smile, but from what I’ve been told, it does nothing to assure the person on the other side of it.

It shouldn’t. It’s not meant to. “I’m not your point of contact from this point forward.

My man will contact you with the details of the next drop.

” He’ll deal with Vert and find out if things are the same or different between dealing with club owners and real criminals.

I grab the papers that have been signed and stand. “Cool, I’m out.” I tuck my knife away and nod to my men.

Now, I’m gonna have a drink and see exactly how good it is to be King in another domain I now own.