Page 12 of Villainous Kingpin

Glancing at my phone, I checked for messages. Angelo, my father’s right hand man, was supposed to confirm he had erased all evidence of Wynter and her friends setting the house on fire. He was going over all the surveillances to ensure he covered all the bases and nothing pointed to the young women. And he’d sendmeall the evidence.

“He’s expecting us, right?” Dante asked as the song switched to Selena Gomez. Absentmindedly, I made a note to improve the music here. Since it’d be my club, I’d ensure everything was top notch.

“Yes, he’s handing over the deed,” I told him. “His deadline is midnight.”

Hopefully, he wouldn’t wait until the last goddamn minute.

My phone buzzed and I glanced at the phone, hoping it was Wynter. I had sent her a message over three hours ago, letting her know the wipeout was almost done. It was Angelo.

*Wiped clean. You have the only copy.*

I pressed the recording and watched the women frantically run around the house. The one with auburn hair kept trying to make the fire bigger, while the others screamed. Wynter seemed to be the only one that tried to keep a cool head and extinguish it.

Satisfied with it, I put the phone away.

“Where the fuck is he then?” Dante pondered, his eyes traveling over the crowd. Brennan would be here, I had no doubt.

The beat drummed through the floors. Rowdy men cheering sounded out in the main area, but we hadn’t gotten there yet.

“So did you do it?” Dante asked.

The two of us were raised like brothers. We weren’t far off as cousins. His father ran the Chicago Syndicate, just as mine ran New York. And just like I surprised my father, so did Dante. Our old men might be the heads of the Syndicate, but we were the Kingpins. Dante, Priest, who ruled Philadelphia, and I. My sister ran Las Vegas but only my cousins, father, uncle, and I knew she was really the one pulling the strings.

With each day, we grew more powerful and stronger than our fathers ever were.

“Do what?” I responded distractedly. I had to get my head screwed on right. Ever since I ran into Wynter again, I couldn’t get her out of my mind.

“Did you have the surveillance wiped out for the golden princess?” Dante chuckled darkly. The amusement crossed his expression though his eyes were sharp on the crowd around us. Neither one of us trusted the Irish. “I’ve never seen you look at a woman like that before.”

I shrugged. It didn’t mean anything. She was a stunning woman, and I was certain she was used to male attention with her looks.

The song switched to “Legends Are Made” by Sam Tinnesz and the whole bar became even more riled up than a few minutes ago. The sound of cheering and yowling rang through the whole establishment while the speakers pumped with the beat and lyrics of the song.

It was way too goddamn loud.

“Does the entertainment come with the club?” Dante mused. “I spy your golden principessa and a couple more troublemakers.”

I followed his gaze to find three women dancing on top of the bar, their dresses together making the color of the damn Irish flag. And my principessa with the golden halo dancing on top of it, seducing everyone like a temptress. Wynter Star moved seductively, each sway of her body graceful like she had done this a million times before.

Men’s eyes ate her up, greedy for a glimpse of her smooth skin. My eyes traveled over her body in what must have been the shortest white dress on the planet. I had never complained about a woman wearing so little before. So this was a first.

Every single pair of eyes in this bar was on them.

A burning ball of energy shot through me and singed my insides.

“What the fuck?” I growled, glaring at all the men. I wanted to kill them all. Maybe I could break a beer bottle and use it as a weapon. Slash everyone’s throat one at a time. Albeit, it’d probably be quicker to just shoot them.

The three girls shared a glance, then their heads turned in the same direction. Dante and I followed their line of sight to see Liam Brennan striding towards them with a seriously pissed off expression.

“I guess the head of the Irish doesn’t approve,” Dante sneered, though amusement colored his voice.

The two of us watched Liam growl at the women, trying to get through the wild crowd of men.

“Get the fucking brats off the bar,” he shouted but it was a moot point. The crowd was way too wild by now. “Where is the fourth woman?” he growled, his eyes roaming the crowd and searching for who the fuck knew.

Dante and I watched the women up on the bar. It was clear they were up to something. The question was what and why were they giving Liam Brennan a hard time?

Liam turned to his man, Quinn, and barked an order, though his head was turned and I couldn’t read his lips.