Chapter 2
Ihad the urge to want to check on O’Shynn so I had the driver to take me to the club.
The club was half lit, and half alive, just how O’Shynn liked to keep it during the daytime hours.
The smell of money, liquor, and some kind of cleaner lingered through the air along with the bass humming from the speakers.
The ‘closed until nightfall’ sign didn’t mean shit at all, at least not for us.
This was our spot, one of the Royal fronts, where business moved smoother than the dancers’ skin did and money was cleaned through the business.
As soon as I stepped in, I didn’t have to say a word.
Everybody inside knew what time it was. The bartenders straightened up, the floor girls smiled, and the few day shift dancers were moving on stage adjusting themselves real quick like they were trying to get my attention.
You could feel it; it was that familiar pause that came with power walking through the door.
One of the bottle girls smiled big and wide when she saw me. “Hey, big boss,” she said. Her voice was soft but full of that fake sweetness, but she knew it didn’t work on me.
I gave a nod, nothing more, nothing less because I wasn’t here for games.
A few of the dudes sitting around the VIP side whispered amongst themselves but kept it respectful.
Most of them worked under the umbrella anyway whether it was car lots, detail shops, or small-time hustles tied back to Royal money.
They knew better than to make too much noise.
The lights were low, and the smoke hung over the room, and every now and then a girl would slide past wearing one of those tiny two pieces that made even the most disciplined man look twice, even me.
I had to admit; they were fine as hell. A few of them gave me that stare but right now I wasn’t here for none of that.
I walked straight past, with my jewelry catching the reflection of the stage lights as I moved.
“Boss in the building,” the DJ said low into the mic, trying to play it all casual but respectful.
“Dom Royal in the building,” somebody tried to mumble near the bar as if I couldn’t hear it and that was enough to start a ripple.
A few of the women who were just spotting me froze on stage midway through their moves.
Even a brown skin, with long curls and body like a goddess leaned forward on the pole and just stared.
The way her eyes dragged down my body was disrespectful in the kind of way dudes dream about.
I gave her a small nod with a half-smile.
Her name was Temptation for a reason, I knew exactly who she was.
“Hey, King,” one of the bottle girls called from behind the bar. “You in here early today. The girls must’ve been talking you up.”
I smirked. “You know I built this place, right? I don’t have to wait for night to walk in my own shit.”
Laughter erupted through the room, but they knew it was all love.
Some of the dudes sitting by the VIP rail raised their shot glasses in respect.
A couple were still in their hustler clothes too wearing flashy chains, and designer sneakers.
As I walked further in, I could feel the eyes following me with that mix of loyalty and lust. I had that kind of attention you only get when you’ve earned it.
I shook a few hands on the way to the back and checked the layout like I always did as far as making sure the exits were clear, the security was posted, and everything was moving how it was supposed to.
One stripper got real bold. “You looking real good King, we appreciate you making sure we’re always protected. If you ever need me I’m here.”
I didn’t even look at her. “Always.”
I was making my way toward the hallway that led up to O’Shynn’s office, but I wasn’t in a rush.
This club was one of the few places I could breathe without worrying about police or cameras.
It was the Royal home base dressed up exactly how it was supposed to look and everyone inside knew what it meant to see me walking through it in broad daylight.
O’Shynn’s office always smelled like business but full of sin.
There was a red leather chair, a half empty whiskey glass, and files stacked tight and labeled in her neat handwriting.
A pair of red bottom heels sat kicked under the desk like she’d just slipped out of them and ran up out of here like Cinderella.
I closed the door behind me and the bass of the club vibrated through the walls.
Her setup looked different since the last time I’d been up here.
It now had six flatscreen monitors lined against the wall, and every one of them were live from the bar, the stage, the VIP lounge, front door, kitchen hallway, and even the parking lot.
It was control central up in here just how we liked it, but the security room had even more monitors than this; it was done with pure Royal precision.
I eased into her chair and leaned back, with my elbows resting on the arms making myself comfortable.
The feeds rolled smooth for a few minutes. I watched the bartenders restocking, girls wiping tables, and security walking rounds. Everything looked exactly how it was supposed to. Then my eyes caught one small square on the bottom right with no label and no timestamp. It just said “X3.”
I’d never seen that before. I tapped the keyboard, bringing it full screen as the red light filled the monitor, thick and low like a photography darkroom or something of that nature. The room had velvet drapes, a polished floor, and a throne looking chair in the corner causing my eyebrow to raise.
“What the hell is this?” I muttered.
The camera automatically tilted, revealing a man kneeling on the floor in a suit, shirt halfway open, and sweat running down his neck. A woman in black stood over him but she was tall, masked, and confident as hell.
I blinked, then laughed under my breath. “Yo, O’Shynn, what the fuck kind of Fifty Shades setup you got goin’ on in here?”
I glanced at the other screens at the kitchen, the hall, and everything normal, then back at this one.
The woman was moving slow, commanding, and pointing him where to go.
You could tell by her posture she owned that room.
The man obeyed her like he was signing a paycheck.
That’s when the light shined on his face and my jaw tightened.
I leaned forward, squinting my eyes. “Nah… nah, that ain’t who I think it is.
” But it was. The goddamn mayor of Miami.
I sat back in the chair, silent for a second and then started laughing. Like real laughter, deep from my chest and that’s something I rarely did. “You gotta be fuckin’ kidding me. Man’s out here making laws by day and losing his mind in my club by night.”
I rubbed my chin, still grinning. “O’Shynn got him under contract with one of her club girls and people don’t even know it. Whole city’s begging him for funding and he’s out here begging her for mercy.”
The screen flickered again, and the camera zoomed in a little closer.
The woman in black circled him like she was running a sermon, and her commands and gestures were real smooth too.
It wasn’t even the act that had me tripping it was the control.
It wasn’t a chance in hell I’d allow a woman to beat on me, fuck the pleasure.
She had the kind of control most people spent their whole lives chasing, but she was owning that shit.
Every muscle in the Mayor’s back was stiff and trembling.
The woman snapped her fingers, and he froze like he’d been trained for it.
I shook my head, half amused and half impressed. “Whoever shorty is, she’s dangerous.”
Then she reached up with her hands sliding behind her head and unbuckled the black mask.
The leather loosened, slipped off, and fell to the floor.
I leaned forward and immediately stopped laughing.
The face under that mask wasn’t some stripper in the club; it was O’Shynn.
For a second I didn’t even breathe. I raised my eyebrows and then dropped them again as the shock settled in.
“Nah,” I whispered. “Ain’t no way.” I rewound the feed five seconds and played it again only for it to be the same thing clear as daylight.
My own sister was standing in that red lit room, running the city’s mayor like a damn puppet.
I ran a hand down my face fighting between disbelief and a twisted kind of respect.
“This girl really done built a whole operation inside my operation.”
I turned the volume down quick not wanting to hear a single sound, but the picture was enough. The mayor looked gone, as his eyes rolled somewhere between fear and worship and a fucking freak. O’Shynn looked calm and collected like she’d been doing this for years.
“Jesus, O’Shynn,” I groaned, shaking my head. “You out here blackmailing the government and didn’t even tell me you a fucking freak.”
The longer I watched, the more layers hit me. This wasn’t just wild; this was strategic as fuck. That kind of dirt could buy silence, favors, and whole contracts if they lived a secret life. My laugh came back slow, low, and cold because realistically this was my baby sister.
“She always ten steps ahead,” I said to myself. “I taught her too damn well. So well, she knew how to keep these kinds of secrets and cover it up.”
I grabbed her glass, took a small sip of the leftover whiskey, and stared at the monitor a second longer still processing what I’d just seen.
The mayor dropped out of frame and O’Shynn turned away from the camera fixing her gloves as cool as ever.
The screen then cut to static right before going black like she’d killed the feed herself.
I sat there in the quiet office still listening to the bass vibrating through the walls and glad that my shadows were outside of the door instead of inside with me where they could’ve possibly seen what I just saw.
“Alright, sis,” I said with my eyes still on the dark screen. “You got some fuckin’ explaining to do.”