Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 73191 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 366(@200wpm)___ 293(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73191 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 366(@200wpm)___ 293(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
“Yes, but the Savage Villain’s MC are known statewide.”
I bite my lip and sit back.
“Why are you at Milo Savage’s, Lissie? You know who he is, and how dangerous he is.”
“I still live in this town, Savannah. And he may be scary to some, but not to me,” I say, shaking my head. It’s only a half-truth. Milo does scare me, but not in the way she might think.
She tsks. “That’s probably your first mistake, thinking that man isn’t dangerous.”
She picks up a slice of pizza and sways it around before she says, “Stay away, please. Tell Cody to keep an eye on you, or I will.”
This time, when I bite my lip, it bleeds.
Chapter 6
Milo
“I’ll watch you take your last breath and smile.”
“Prez.” I look up at my prospect, Aiden, as he approaches me.
The party has started, and women are everywhere. Once a week, I let the boys loose, and we celebrate because you can’t run a fucking empire without having respect from your men.
My father was the president of this MC, and when he died, I took his place. I learned everything there was from him, even if he was a fucking asshole. I have no siblings, but these men are my fucking family. They would die for me. And you can’t say that’s not better than some family.
The club’s compound is made up of several small buildings with a larger two-story clubhouse at the center. The clubhouse contains a bar, and a pool table for the guys. It isn’t the cleanest of places, but no one seems to mind. Letti, our bartender, helps keep it tidy when she’s here.
A lot of the times, the club whores clean up—whoever is sober enough the next day after they crawl out of one of the guys’ rooms. This place is not my full-time residence, as it is for some, but I stay here a lot. This is also where she comes to read to me. My room is in a building out back, behind the main garage.
“He’s here,” Aiden announces. Of course, he is. That fucking slimy piece of shit. “Let him in or kick him out?” he asks.
I give Aiden a wave, and he nods before he turns and heads to where I know that piece of shit will be located. I wait with a drink in my hand, as my men talk shit with whatever woman is their flavor tonight, for Cody to enter.
I wish I could slice his fucking throat right here right now, watch as he begs and bleeds out in front of me, and I wouldn’t lift a finger to help him.
I hate him.
Not because he has her.
But because of who he is in general.
What she ever saw in that piece of crap, I will never know.
I watch as Aiden walks in, Cody right behind him. Cody’s eyes scan the large, open room. I sit near the pool table, my hands on the bar, my head angled so I can keep him in my sights. When that sleazy gaze of his falls on me, he offers a nod in greeting, which I don’t return. Why the fuck would I? Scum.
He walks over to my VP, Morris, and leans in. Morris, who I went to school with and is the same age as me, joined my father’s MC at the same time I did. We’ve never been apart, and if anyone knows me best, it’s Morris.
Morris’s gaze flicks to me as Cody speaks, and I shake my head at him. He pulls back and says something to Cody, which deepens his frown even further. Then that piece of shit turns to me. I watch from my spot at the bar as he takes a deep breath, his Adam’s apple bobbing, before he puts one foot in front of the other and walks over to me. I don’t bother getting up. There is no point because we’re at eye level, even with me sitting on the stool.
“I need drugs,” he says, clear as day.
“We have supplied your shipment already, Cody.” I tap the wooden bar as Letti, who is Morris’s sister, starts making me a drink.
“Come on, man, please,” he begs. “I’ll send Lissie over now. Will that help?” I grimace at his words, reminding myself not to kill him. While he may be useful, he is a fucking idiot. Cody is our biggest drug dealer, a fact that I’m not even sure Lissie knows. Last week, he got a shipment, and he’s already here asking for more. I haven’t gotten payment for the last supply, so there is little chance of that.
“You expect me to take your wife as a form of payment?” I ask, shaking my head.
“You have before.”
Letti slides my drink toward me, and I look at the heavy glass and think about smashing his head in with it. “Payment first, then we talk product,” I tell him.