1 Price of Power

They exchanged words with each other and walked away. Not completely, but they moved back.

Loyal fucking lap dogs.

"You've got them well trained. Too bad it's not going to help you out of this."

I delivered back-to-back punches. I lost count of how many, but when Ronan was slouching to the point of me struggling to hold him up, I felt he'd gotten the message. I let him go, and he stumbled to the floor. I cringed at how dirty it was when his hands met the grimy tile.

"I'm gonna pay."

"When?" I growled.

"Now. I can pay now," he muttered, spitting blood as he wiped his mouth.

"Then why the fuck are you wasting my time?"

"This isn't on me. I'm not wasting your time. Remo sent you here." He struggled to stand, narrowing his eyes. One was swelling. That was going to be pretty nasty in a few hours.

"Because you've been late twice. So again, why the fuck are you wasting my time?"

I knew why. Ronan was the type to pretend he was more important than he truly was. He made decent money at this strip club. The one that Remo fronted most of the cash to open. Instead of a loan, Ronan chose to make Remo a partner. It was not like he had much say in the matter. The money was paid in cash, off the books, because Remo didn't want traceable ties to Ronan. He was into some pretty bad shit. He kept it out of the clubs but was rumored to keep a team of women he pimped out. He only took on legal-aged women and didn't abuse them beyond using their bodies for money and favors. It wasn't my concern, so I didn't make it my business.

"Come to my office. I'll get the money."

"No, I'll wait here. You go get that shit and hurry the fuck up."

"Aight, aight," he muttered. His lip was split, his teeth were bloody, and his face was swelling. "Can I offer you something to make up for you having to come here?"

"No."

"You sure? I can get you a private room. She'll take care of whatever you want."

"Money first." He smiled smugly, thinking that offering me pussycat was winning him favor. It wasn't. If he was late again, I'd be back. The only reason I considered accepting the offer was because it had been a while. I couldn't really recall the last time I'd fucked. Months possibly. Sex wasn't something I typically sought out or needed. Women rarely understood my lack of engagement. My disconnect was often presented as a challenge, which caused them to work harder to gain my approval. Sex, for me, was about a release. That was it. I didn't want a connection. There never would be one. I simply needed the exchange.

"Here. Twenty grand." I accepted the money and shoved it into the pocket of my hoodie. Remo's cut was sixty grand a month. A little over half the profit, but enough for Ronan to pretend he was running shit, and Remo got untraceable cash to do as he pleased.

"How about avoiding all this and just paying the fucking money? On time."

"Yeah." He nodded. "You want that room?"

I glanced around before my eyes landed on Ronan. "Yeah. Make sure she knows how to follow rules and that she's clean."

I wasn't fucking behind any of his clients.

He nodded. "Follow me. I got one that just started her shift."

Ten minutes later, I was in a small room, standing in the center of it. There was a small sofa I refused to sit on. There was no telling how many people had fucked in that same spot. The thought made my skin crawl.

My eyes shot over to the door when the woman walked in. She was topless, wearing a thong. My eyes crawled over her body, taking in her oiled brown skin and subtle curves. She had a natural shape below the waist but implants up top. The breasts were too perfect.

"What are the rules?" she asked, moving to me but pausing her steps before our bodies met. She smelled sweet, like strawberries or some type of fruit. Not smoke or sweat. And if she was asking for my rules, then Ronan had filled her in.

"Don't talk. Don't touch me. Just do what I say."

Her face shifted into confusion. "This doesn't work without touching."

"Do I need to get someone else?"

She frowned, shaking her head. "No."