Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 108141 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 541(@200wpm)___ 433(@250wpm)___ 360(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 108141 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 541(@200wpm)___ 433(@250wpm)___ 360(@300wpm)
“She has the same last name as the cop.” He stares at the license. “It’s got to be his sister or cousin maybe… unless he’s married and has been hiding it.”
“Just get her and bring her to me.”
He has her license in his hand, so I snatch the purse from him and walk out of the apartment and back toward my car so I can head back to the club. My anger toward Logan is increasing by the minute, but as much as I want to throw his ass to the wolves, one of the more crucial pieces of advice my dad gave me when he started teaching me the business was to keep my friends close and my enemies closer. So, for now, I’m keeping Logan close. Whether it’s as a friend or an enemy, only time will tell.
I’m pissed at myself for letting my guard down enough that Logan could get shit past me, but my guard is now up and my eyes are open, and once I get this all sorted, he’s going to regret ever crossing me.
I spend the rest of my evening making sure my face is seen at the club to ensure if anything goes down I have several alibies. At eleven o’clock, I grab my main bouncer, Rosco, and head downstairs to the underground club to check shit out. Logan was quick to throw Luis under the bus, but now I’m curious to see what else has been going on while my back was turned. My employees know damn well drugs in my club is unacceptable. The last thing I need is someone overdosing or acting a fool because they’re hopped up on something. They can do that shit elsewhere.
The underground club has two entrances. One is down a hallway, off the main area, and the other is outside, around the back, the stairs leading down to the underground level. The underground part of the club is invite only. There’s a large cover charge and all licenses are scanned so we know who is entering. From the outside, it looks like a shitty old door that needs to be replaced, like where one would go to throw the garbage out, out back.
With several cops on my dad’s and my payroll, including the Deputy Chief, my underground club gets overlooked, which is how I know Logan is up to something. Stephen wouldn’t bother making that threat because there’s nowhere to go with it, and as far as the money laundering goes, I have my shit locked air fucking tight.
But with Logan acting strange, I let him believe I was worried, when the truth is I wanted to see how he would handle it all. Him killing the cop tells me one thing: Logan is hiding something way bigger than some wannabe gangsters selling X and coke to a bunch of people at a club, and you better fucking believe I’m going to find out what it is.
I spot Luis standing at the door and he gives me a nervous nod, which tells me Logan has already warned him. “Listen, Ethan—” he starts, but I cut him off.
“We’re not going to discuss this right now, and definitely not here. For now, just do your damn job. I see anybody selling in my club tonight, you will never work in this city again. Got it?”
He nods in understanding, letting me through.
I have two fights scheduled for tonight. I get downstairs and the place is already crowded, everyone with liquor in their glasses. The fights don’t begin until midnight and they go quickly, usually ending by 2:00 a.m. There are no rounds or rules other than no weapons and no killing the other person. My ref will stop the fight once one of the fighters is no longer capable of fighting back.
For the next couple hours, I watch the fights, watch my employees, and watch the patrons. I have Rosco throw several people out for doing drugs. He checks the bathrooms several times and makes examples out of enough people that it should get passed around quickly that drugs in my club won’t be happening anymore.
It’s been a long time since I was the last person to leave the club—that’s what managers are for. When you run your business right, you can delegate. Work smarter, not harder is my motto.
By the time I leave, I have fired several of my employees whom I caught partaking in this mini drug ring in my club, including Carmen, who has apparently been selling that shit at the bar in exchange for getting a cut. I make a mental note to have Erika, my club manager, start gathering résumés to replace those I fired.
On my way home, I realize it’s close to four in the morning and I still haven’t heard from Logan all night. I make a pit stop by his house, but he’s not home and the place is pitch-black. Using my key, I go inside to check things out—this feeling I have that he’s up to something has only strengthened.