Chapter 1 - Kane
***Thank you so much for giving this story a chance! As the first-place contest winner, this book will be moving to Galatea.
I want to give a proper heads up before it's transferred over!
I fucking hate groveling. Nothing makes my trigger finger itch quite like a person begging for their miserable life.
“How much do you owe me?”
The sniveling worm chokes through his sobs, “twenty thousand.”
“Why then were you gambling at Hanzos?”
He sucks in a breath, wide eyes following me as I pull myself to stand before him.
“Did you think I didn’t know about that?” His ignorance makes me laugh. “You lost nine thousand there just last night.”
“I… I thought-“
“You thought that I was too fucking stupid to keep tabs on you!” My voice is calm as I grab ahold of his wet, disgusting face. “That was my money you lost last night, the money you owed to me…”
“I’m sorry, Kane. Please, I need more-“
“If you say ‘time’ I’m going to blow a hole through your skull. You’ve had six months. Where the fuck is my money?”
“I can get it to you by Friday.”
“And how do you plan to do that? Sell organs on the black market? You useless fucking waste of space.”
“My… my wife can dance at The Playground! She can-“
My loud laughter stops his whining voice.
“You’re offering me your wife?”
“Yes, I heard that some people transfer their debts-“ the deafening bang of my Glock silences the room. I’m done with this conversation. I’m done with him.
Wiping a drop of blood spatter from my cheek I turn to the group of trembling men lined up waiting for their own judgments.
“What the fuck was he talking about?”
One of my enforcers shuffles slightly on his feet and the ever-present calm rage starts to boil in my veins.
“What the fuck was he talking about,” I annunciate each word.
The room is silent enough to hear the thumping hearts of everyone quietly praying I don’t call them forward.
“You,” I point to an older man in the back. My enforcer grabs his arm and drags him forward.
“Tell me what the fuck he was talking about and I’ll spare you, no questions asked.”
“When someone dies the debt moves to one of their family members. Sometimes people transfer their debts to pay it down faster, wives, daughters…” The man’s voice shakes.
My finger moves over the trigger as I turn to my men. No one will make eye contact. These mother fuckers.
“You,” I point to the man, “get the fuck out of here. My men… who authorized this? I feel I have been very clear, debtors pay their debts, not their families. That fucking spineless rat was trying to shift his debt over to his wife.”
No one speaks, no one makes eye contact.
Pulling the trigger twice two large bodies hit the floor.
“Who!” My voice booms through the room.
“Zion, Sir.” Someone finally says.
Of course, he did. I knew it was him. No one else would defy me. I just wanted someone to speak up and say it.
“It stops today. Clean up this mess, now.”
Leaving the trembling crowd with my men, I walk briskly from the marble hall.
It looks like it’s time to pay my little brother a visit. Thunder rumbles in the night sky as the first raindrops land on my shoes.
“The Playground,” I nod to Declan as he pulls the car door open for me.
“Right away, Sir.”
The grimy city streets flash past the windows as he expertly maneuvers the back alleys and side streets.
Pouring whiskey into a crystal glass from the backseat bar I let the warm burn quell my rage.
The twinkling neon lights of The Playground illuminate the dark, reflecting off of the wet asphalt.
As usual, there is a line of drunk, disorderly men outside waiting to get inside to pay for the privilege of watching naked women gyrate on stage.
Stepping out of the open door, I nod to Dec, “wait nearby. I won’t be here long.”
“Yes, Sir.”
As the bouncer opens the velvet ropes for me to enter I note my men standing quietly in line. The loud, obnoxious noise, gone.
“As you were, gentlemen, it’s your night off.”
The hooting and hollering echo through the street as the door closes behind me.
Animals, all of them.
A fully nude woman is on the end of the stage in a full split, her ass shaking to the loud music. I look past her for my brother. Where is that stupid fucker? I would like to get out of here as quickly as possible.
“Gentlemen, get your dollars ready!” his voice blasts through the speakers, “Buttercup has a special show for you tonight!”
I finally spot him at the sound booth as ‘Buttercup’ slinks across the stage.
Beaconing him with one finger, I walk through the door behind the bar toward his office. The two-way glass window in his office gives a perfect view of the stage. Sitting on the stiff leather couch I watch Buttercup’s “special show.”
Leaning back I let my eyes close. There is nothing special about this show. A naked bitch dancing on a pole, the same as every other.
“Kane!” Zion enters the room loudly, my moment of peace ruined.
I stand and stare at him with folded arms.
“What?”
“You know what…”
He thinks for a moment, “Is this about that fucker I shot yesterday? Look, man, he was coming after me…”
“No… that’s not what this is about. Who did you shoot?”
“Oh, just some guy. I was fucking his wife and he had the nerve to show up here and burst into my office!”
I chuckle, “Yeah, no, I don’t give a fuck about that.”
“Then what?”
“I’ve been informed that you’re taking debt transfers, again. I hate that shit. It stops now, tonight. Anyone who is paying a debt for someone else finishes the night and tomorrow you deal with finding new dancers. I don’t care what you have to do to get your money back from the fucker you lent it to but don’t let them switch that shit over.”
He rolls his eyes, “Yeah, yeah, ok.”
“Stop fucking doing it or I’ll shoot you.”
A wide grin splits his face, “that’s what you said last time.”
