Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 77309 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77309 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
"You will give me my freedom. I will give you the promise never to step on your trade. As well as a cut of mine."
"A cut?" I clarified, having done dirty deals with a lot of shitheads in my time, I knew to be fucking specific.
"Each woman trafficked for sex brings in a respectable hundred-grand a year. I had a barn of around five-hundred women in my prime. In case that math is too hard for you, that meant fifty million per year, minus some shipping fees and the cost to secure these women and keep my compound safe. Then there is the labor trade. It isn't nearly as profitable, but sometimes men make easier targets. Always forgetting you are vulnerable as well, aren't you?" she asked with a sneer. "Each laborer brings in a fair twenty-grand. That is a one-time deal. I usually secure around a thousand of these deals per year. Again, for the public school kids, that is twenty-million per year."
This bitch was making a cold seventy-mill per year? To sit on her ass and let other people snatch people off the streets?
I was on track to make - after all my men were paid - a cool ten million if I kept my men busting ass the way they were. This was nothing compared to what the men in South America were making who I bought the supply from, but it was no fucking chump change either. It was more than I ever made being my family's pawn all my life.
But the difference between ten and seventy million was staggering.
If I could get a cut of that, why the fuck not?
"What kind of cut are we talking here, V?"
"If I get out now, I can get a barn of three-hundred girls by the end of next year. I will give you five thousand on each head each year."
She could make all the public school jokes she wanted.
I could do street-corner math which was just as fucking accurate.
One-point-five.
To do nothing at all.
"And the laborers?"
"You drive a hard bargain, Mr. Abruzzo."
"What is your freedom worth to you, Ms. Lyon?"
Again with the evil smirk.
"One-thousand on each head. I will guarantee one-thousand heads in the year. Likely double that. I have a feeling the market has picked up recently. Communist regimes on the rise and all."
She wouldn't be wrong.
Though how she knew that was beyond me.
"My dearly departed husband liked to put on news stations when he came to visit. I have a keen ear," she explained, answering the question I hadn't spoken.
"And this deal of yours, it will be good from now until..."
"Any untimely demise on my part."
"And mine," I specified with emphasis.
"I have no reason to end you. Two-point-five million flung your way will hardly hurt my bottom line. Besides, I rather like you. You're a ruthless sonofabitch. I like that in an ally."
"Won't be your ally, V. We do this, what you give me is gratitude for your freedom only. I won't wage wars by your side."
"Like I would need your army. I have learned my lessons in the need of more - and better - manpower, Mr. Abruzzo. No one will be able to take me down again. Besides, our businesses are rather complimentary, don't you think?"
"How so?"
"Well, who do you think my business serves? Certainly not the working poor. It is the wealthy businessmen and politicians. You know, your clientele as well."
She wasn't wrong about that.
"You keep them high. I'll keep them fucked and served. It is the perfect deal."
And, honestly, it was.
Two-point-five extra million in my pocket to do not a fucking thing?
Only an idiot turned that down.
"One more thing," I said when her smile became a little too victorious.
"Sure."
"What did you do to get him to lock you up after what sounded like many years apart?"
"Oh, that," she said, rolling her eyes. "A difference of opinion when it came to parenting."
"And that issue, is it going to bite me in the ass?"
"Oh," she said, waving a hand. "My daughter must be quite settled by now. I was thinking of a nice, amicable reunion. I bet I have some grandchildren that would love to meet me."
Crazy bitch wanted to meet her grandchildren, that was none of my business.
I had a cool two-point-five mill coming to me.
So I reached for the key.
And I let her the fuck out already.
Went to bed at five a.m. and slept like a fucking baby.
Hell didn't break loose for a couple days.
FIVE
Rey
I have never slept well.
As a rule.
Even as a child.
My mind was a busy one, always sprinting forward, backpedaling, running in circles, cartwheeling into oblivion. I just never had been able to get it to quiet down. Those minutes - let's be honest here, hours - right before sleep were the worst. The house is quiet, all the animals dreaming away. I lived on a dead-end street, so there were no traffic noises or neighbors to keep me up. I didn't have electronics in my room because I read once that they can screw with your REM sleep.