Mom landed in Paradise City first.
She attempted to connect with the dominating gang at the time—the Coffin Cheaters. A big man named Mel ran it back then. Mom spoke to the leader and explained that her crew could open up successful brothels in the city. She hoped to unite and work with him. Laughing, Mel told her that all she could do was suck his cock and then he nicknamed her the Queen of the Flower Mafia.
Then, my uncles and cousins arrived—a hundred deep, strapped with not only muscle, but knives and guns. Under Mom’s orders, they destroyed and ran the Coffin Cheaters out of Paradise and got rid of any alley pimps and sick human traffickers.
When anyone asked who they were, she would smile and say, “The Flower Mafia.”
With Paradise City cleaner under her standards, Mom opened several brothels and hired women to run them. She discovered she was pregnant a month later.
I now had the reins to the family business. Any prostitute that worked in the North had my full protection and respect.
And Mom spent her retirement days tending to her interior garden. Often, I walked in on her singing to her bushes of red roses or weeding around the pink daylilies near the waterfall.
This year was supposed to be easier. . .relaxing even.
Finally, we drove through the ivory gates of Blair Edge.
This area exuded high levels of elegance. If a man had to ask about the pussy’s price, then he couldn’t afford it. Here, men drove up to private, exclusive high rise buildings in foreign cars that cost more than most houses. Gold and platinum cards stuffed their leather wallets. If he were super horny, he could call in advance and a nude woman would be waiting in his designated suite.
The Phantom stopped in front of Lush.
My club, Lush represented the new wave of brothels. It had an annual membership fee of $24,000. That only allowed the man to get a black digital card to open the door and walk inside.
From the outside, it resembled a large office building. There were no lights or signs, labeling it.
On the inside, it was custom-designed furniture and gleaming floors, chandeliers and gold statues of sexual positions. Higher up there were restaurants, designer stores with nude cashiers, and private suites for sex. A pool and hot tub were located near the moon garden on the roof. And hundreds of naked women and men of all races and sizes strolled around the whole property, ready to please for the right price.
The club's valet rushed over and opened the door. “Good evening, Mr. Ivanov.”
Nodding, I left the Phantom.
Viktor did too and stepped to my side. “Vanya said that the reporter always sits by the bar, sipping on one drink for hours.”
I raised my brows. “What drink?”
“I don’t know.”
I headed to the front. “Do we know which member’s card she is using?”
“Every time Vanya's people check the records, no member comes up. Either way, the reporter gets access with it.”
We approached the door. It beeped and automatically opened.
Vanya stood on the other side. She was the only albino Russian I knew. She had pale skin and long bleach-white hair. Her lashes seemed almost transparent and her eyes were the lightest blue I'd ever seen.
Due to her extreme sensitivity to the sun, she wore sunglasses during the day. Tonight, she wore a shiny black bodysuit and spiked heels.
Currently, she was the top-earning madam on my roster.
And she knew it.
Vanya blocked my entrance to the door and held her hand on her hips. “Finally you're here. Can I kill her?”
“You can't.” I walked around her.
Pouting, she trailed me. “But she's annoying.”
“That's why I'm here.”
She snorted and got to my right. “All of a sudden you're here? I'd been asking you to deal with her all last week."
“I’m here now.”
“I bet you're only here because she's black. That's why I made a point to tell Vik.”
Viktor chuckled on my left.
Already, I felt my headache getting worse. “What is the drink that the reporter always orders?”
“Why?”
I glared at her.
“Champagne and cotton candy.”
I considered the combination. “Is the glass actually full of cotton candy?”
“Yes. It’s stuffed with it, then the bartender pours champagne over it.”
“Interesting. Take me to her.”
“That would be my pleasure.” Vanya guided us forward.
Although chandeliers hung from the ceilings, a bordello red glow took over the place. Sweat and sex drenched the air.
A nude blonde waved. “Good evening, Mr. Ivanov.”
I smiled.
“He’s not here to be serviced.” Vanya signaled for her to go.
The blonde hurried off in the other direction.
Viktor, Vanya, and I walked onto the dancefloor.
People danced around me in the dim light. The men wore suits, while women were dressed in lace that encased their supple bodies like a second skin. They moved to the beat, swaying and rocking into their clients.
Another packed night.
As we made it to the center of the dancefloor, I looked to my left.