“Yes, asshole. My cut. Twenty percent.”
“Why would I give you a euro? Who the fuck are you?”
This guy really was new to the game. “The Skull King.”
His eyes narrowed, like he recognized the title but wasn’t quite aware of its meaning.
“I’m the leader of the Skull Kings. We’re an underground operation that’s involved in everything, drugs, trafficking, arms dealing, you name it. It’s my job to keep the peace in this country by controlling the chaos. Your drugs have grown in popularity, and you’re becoming one of the biggest producers in the hemisphere. When you were a small fish, you weren’t worth my time. But now, you’re a shark—and I have to tame you. So, twenty percent.”
Case absorbed all of this with a poker face, hiding his thoughts from my view. “You think I’m going to give you a cut for nothing?”
“It’s either that or die. Your choice.”
He still didn’t flinch. “And what do I get in exchange?”
“Protection. Legitimacy. Connections.”
“I already have all of those things.”
“Not on this scale. When you become a shark, everyone wants to take you down. You need allies. Let me tell you from experience—you want me as your ally and not your enemy.”
He still didn’t appear intimidated. “And if I say no?”
“I’ll kill you and Dirk and take over this operation myself.”
“I’d rather go out of business than have an asshole like you take a cut.”
I planted my hands on the kitchen island and leaned forward. “You should see this as a business opportunity. Your pasta company pays taxes to the government in exchange for services. It’s not any different. I’m the patriarch of this country, and it’s my job to pay off the police and the government so we can keep shit going. If you think you’re going to keep this operation afloat on your own, you’re mistaken. A bigger shark is going to come along and bite your head off. I’ll make sure that doesn’t happen. I control competition, keep players separated, and make sure there are not any disputes.”
“You sound like a mayor.”
“More like a king. The reason why regular people are plagued with crime, poverty, and chaos is because there’s not enough control. Not enough rules. The criminal underworld is so structured that it’s boring. Who do you think is responsible for that?”
Case leaned back against the other counter and crossed his arms over his chest.
“Think it over.” I turned back to the door.
“Ten percent.”
I stopped and turned back to him. “Twenty.”
“Ten.”
“Twenty,” I repeated.
“Fifteen.”
He had balls, trying to negotiate with me. But I respected a man with a sac. “Fifteen.”
A week had come and gone, but I didn’t hear from Cassini.
I expected her to call me when the sex with her husband became too unbearable and she needed a fix. I expected her to cave when the memory of us turned stale and she couldn’t get off to it anymore. I expected her to call me when she wanted a new memory, a memory that would give her a climax so profound, it would make up for the misery she’d experienced over the last several weeks.
I was confident she would call—eventually.
I sat on my throne at the Underground, drinking scotch on the rocks while I watched all the men gather for the auction. All rich and powerful men with specific tastes in domination and torture, they were disgusting bastards. But they paid top dollar for a beautiful woman with a rich father. Every Friday night, we cleaned up with almost two hundred million.
Not a bad way to make a living.
I liked to pay for sex. It was less complicated that way. I paid them handsomely and told them exactly what I wanted. There was no foreplay or dinner. If I wanted to fuck them in the ass, I just threw down the cash and opened the lube. If I wanted to chain them up and whip them until their cheeks turned red, it only cost money. But I’d never paid for a slave before. It wasn’t because I was a moral man. I was the biggest deviant in this place. I just didn’t like the idea of being stuck with one woman for so long. Sounded like a waste of money.
Jerome walked up the steps to my chair. “Want to check out the girls before the show starts?”
I finished the rest of my drink before I set it on the table. Ruth, the topless waitress, snatched it right away and replaced it with a new one even though I was about to walk away. I joined Jerome in the back—where the naked, handcuffed girls fought back tears.
Trafficking was one of our biggest industries. Our patrons paid astronomical sums for a beautiful woman to keep as a pet. We’d been doing it for decades, long before we made our living just killing people. Now we’d expanded into every realm of business possible.