Chapter 5
Wade and I had money to spare, so we spent it—buying the old club right out of Hennsen Cloney's shaky hands. The place was a dump, but it had its attractions, like Snow Bunny—Xanthe.
I wasn't in the office, but my suit remained as crisp as a freshly baked potato chip.
Around me, the construction was well underway.
We were transforming the club into something Wade and I could call our own.
Everyone had their hands in—replacing light fixtures, upgrading the old, uncomfortable booths, and swapping out the carpet and tiles.
Hennsen walked in, looking nervous, his confusion growing as he saw the changes happening before his eyes. He pointed at the old seating being carried out the door and loaded into the dumpster truck I'd rented.
"Your girls won't be pleased to learn you left them behind," I said, as Wade approached slowly from behind me.
Hennsen shrugged, offhand to the fate of his workers.
"Business has been slow," he muttered, here to collect his check.
It hadn't taken much bargaining—five million and he folded.
"I can't keep this place running anymore," he admitted, watching his memories get hauled off in a dumpster.
He glanced back at me, a smirk tugging at his lips.
"What do you paper pushers want with a club, anyway?
I figured someone from the underworld would come buy this dump. " He chuckled to himself.
He had quietly put his club up for sale, listing it on the private market. I wasn't sure who gave him the push, but his face had the look of someone hiding a secret. I wasn't about to pry the truth from him; I preferred to let the consequences catch up to him on their own.
"Don't worry about it," I said, the memory of Snow Bunny's taste still fresh in my mind. That slightly salty, acidic flavor mixed with my blood wine—a combination I would spend a lifetime chasing. Knowing her taste, I wanted to keep her close, locked away.
It was clear Hennsen had been running the club with little regard for rules.
Every club owner had their own methods for attracting girls—low percentages, offering shelter, you name it.
But here, things would be different. I planned to tighten up the rules.
I noticed many of the girls were gone, which meant I'd need to hire more.
Wade and I were still paper pushers for now, but we'd need to appoint a manager soon enough.
"Believe me, I'm not worried," Hennsen said, his tone casual. "I'm just here to sign for the money and get out of Las Vegas. Thinking about moving to some small state, settling down, maybe finding love."
Wade and I barely paid him any attention. He seemed too eager to leave.
"Anything we should know about the club? Any baggage?" I asked, watching him closely.
"Nah... uh, nothing at all. It's all good," he replied, though the hesitation in his voice didn't go unnoticed.
"Alright," I said, stepping into his old office. The space was already set up for a manager, but I had no interest in running the club myself. What I wanted was a place where I could feel safe, where I could come after long days of work and unwind—especially with that one mocha-brown-haired girl.
"Be certain," Wade rumbled, her voice deep and intimidating. "Or we'll find you in your quiet little state."
Hennsen didn't brush off the warning. He nodded, a flicker of fear crossing his face. "It's all good. Everything's on solid ground."
Wade and I knew all too well how humans operated.
They were at the bottom of the survival chain, barely holding on, especially now that creatures of the night had become creatures of the day.
When evolution proved that the sun wouldn't kill us—contrary to the myths spun in night classes—everything changed.
The first vampire to ever make an impression in the snow had sparkled, and now many of us shared that effect. In Las Vegas, sparkling vampires were a common sight, blending into the glittering chaos of the city.
Wade and I signed the papers, sealing the deal, while Hennsen let out a long sigh. "Nice doing business with you," he said, carefully folding his check. I doubted he'd get far with it.
"It's only polite that you stick around for a few days," Wade said, her voice carrying a lethal undertone.
"We could hunt you down and rip your throat out, but we're busy people—you understand, right?
" Wade was a killer through and through, quick to eliminate both humans and vampires who crossed us.
We'd been inseparable for most of our lives, often mistaken for siblings.
Wade and I came from two different worlds. She was raised as royalty, while I grew up in the world of business. My parents still owned a few businesses, though they'd closed most of them to enjoy their so-called 'retirement,' adapting to the lazy human lifestyle.
Wade and I met on American soil, back when she ran away from the royal life. She proved she didn't need a crown to live in a mansion with waterfalls and a long, sprawling driveway.
"I can only stay around for two weeks," Hennsen said.
I nodded. It only takes a few days for trouble to stir. He'd just have to hope nothing happened.
"We can work with that," I replied.
"Boss," Patricia called from the doorway. Wade and I both turned.
"The limousine is ready," she said.
"We'll wrap up and be out in a moment," Wade responded.
We turned back to Hennsen. He looked like he was hiding something, too ashamed to voice whatever was on his mind.
"You know my address," he muttered. "If anything happens—which I'm sure it won't—you can reach out."
"We won't call you," Wade said, her voice a deadly whisper. "We'll come to you—and drink your blood for dinner."
He gulped in fear and stumbled out, backing his way through the door. "You scare everyone."
"I hate talking," Wade growled. She had a habit of running her fingers through her hair when frustrated, but it never messed up. Her hair was never unruly like mine.
"Talking's good," I said.
"All I talk about is violence."
"Well, you're kind of like my bodyguard," I smirked. "A bodyguard who owns businesses."
I crossed the small room to the mini file cabinet, knowing that in a few months it would be packed with club expenses and employee records. "We need to start interviews soon, then we can settle back down in our office."
I couldn't help but look forward to the nights ahead, especially to seeing the hardheaded Snow Bunny. I was already familiar with her in more ways than one—her tight body and the way her juices tasted like pure sugarcane.
"The next few days will be rough. We should've squeezed that guy a little harder. I bet he's hiding something," Wade said.
"You mean blood and shit?" I joked.
"I mean the real reason he sold the club for so little."
"We'll find out soon enough," I replied.