Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 78807 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 394(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78807 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 394(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
That isn’t going to happen, but I’m still so tempted.
“I’ll come with you,” Kathryn says. “We’ll go to the club tonight and see if we can find him. At the very least, we’ll scope the place out, okay? If he owns the place, or at least manages it, then they’ll know him. We can do this.”
“Yeah, you’re right. We can do this.” I nod to her, feigning confidence I don’t feel.
Because with my track record, this is going to go very, very badly.
Chapter 10
Finn
“All right, bro, I’ve got to admit, the club’s really come along.” Carson grins at me over a glass of whiskey.
Nolan squeezes my shoulder. “He’s right, for once in his pathetic life. The place is looking good.”
I try not to let my pride show, but a warm glow builds in my chest. “Thanks, guys. Glad you could both be here.”
They salute me with their drinks, and I bask in the momentary praise.
Club Hazard is my baby. It’s the first place I opened when I went out on my own a decade ago, back when I was still a teenager. Hazard wasn’t always this nice—over the years, I’ve made incremental improvements, at least until two weeks ago when I had the entire place renovated.
Now it looks like what I’ve always had in my head. Upscale, attractive, chandeliers with fancy paintings and old-world wood. It’s like Versailles Palace mixed with a rave. There’s no dress code, but everyone looks like they’d never be caught dead walking around in jeans surrounded by crystal light fixtures and real gold trim.
“By the way, have you spoken to Dad lately?” Carson’s squinting at me as he lounges in the roped-off VIP area to the side of the DJ booth. “He was complaining again about your future wife’s family.”
“I haven’t heard anything about that.” I glance at Carson and he’s studying me. Bastard probably knows I haven’t said a word to Dad since I met Robin six weeks ago.
I’ve barely thought about her in the intervening weeks. Once I left the mansion, I drove back into the city and threw myself into work. I manage multiple bars, own multiple clubs, and have a few less-than-legal rackets on the side. All my income flows into the Crowley family coffers, and all my guys are technically members of the organization, but I keep my own little kingdom in Boston.
“Don’t think you’re getting out of it,” Nolan says, grinning casually as he slings an arm across the back of the couch. “Dad’s still hell-bent on making a real man of you.”
“I guess that means you two are still boys.” I smirk at him, head cocked. “Did you even hit puberty yet?”
“Careful,” Nolan says, laughing. “We both know what’ll happen if you start running your mouth.”
“Go ahead, get up and try me,” I say, my smile inching into anger.
“Cut it out,” Carson says, glaring between us. We’re competitive, but we haven’t gotten into an actual fight since we were teenagers. Not that I’m against it—only that the Crowley family is supposed to be above petty bickering.
It’s not. We just pretend we are.
“All I’m saying is Dad’s not backing out of the deal no matter how much he complains about his new business partner.” Nolan takes a long sip of his drink. “I know you’re not happy about it, but you’re doing the right thing.”
I grunt at him, looking away, out toward the dance floors where happy young people writhe and twist and grind against each other. All under my roof.
“I’m aware of his expectations,” I say, and they leave it at that.
After a few more minutes of chatting, I make sure they’re set up with a bottle of good whiskey, tell one of my best waitresses to ensure they get whatever they want, also warn her not to let them grab her ass, and hurry to the bar.
My business partner, Genna, is sitting at the far end. She’s on her phone, legs crossed, tapping away at some important email. I sidle up next to her, drop into the empty stool on her left, and signal for a drink. The bartender Adam nods and pours me two fingers of our best scotch.
“How are the asshole brothers?” Genna asks, glancing at me. “Still assholes?”
“Nothing ever changes,” I say, leaning on my elbows.
She smiles tightly. “Did I ever tell you about the time Nolan tried to kiss me? I kneed him so hard in the balls, he sang like a bird for a week.”
“You’ve told me,” I say, but still crack a smile. “Several times.”
“That story never gets old.” She sighs and puts her phone down. “The grand reopening’s going good. You should be happy.”
I tilt my head side to the side. “I should be.”
“So what’s the fucking matter, huh?”
I laugh, glance at her, and shrug. There’s no use hiding anything from Genna. I met her when I was sixteen years old—she’s the daughter of a prominent captain in the Crowley organization. There once was talk of the two of us getting together, but that was quickly squashed when I realized I have the wrong parts between my legs.