Ryker

Chapter Ten

She’s fucking taunting me. The two-finger salute while smirking caused a mixture of anger and fascination to spur to life. It made me want to play with her before deciding her fate. The taunting and the way she thought she bested me made me want to prove that I could easily find her no matter where she went. Manzo wouldn’t know the first thing about playing with a woman of her caliber. He can’t keep tabs on her, but that’s my specialty, which is why he came to me in the first place.

I hear the door to Bianca’s room open and the heavy footsteps of Lincoln trudging through her room.

“Where the hell is she?” He barks when he notices the bathroom's open window.

Lincoln is one brutal motherfucker. He learned to hide his emotions at a young age, even before he came to live with my family. Every so often, I get a glimpse of the emotion lurking in the shadows.

I regard him for a moment. I’ve only ever seen him like this with one other person, Vivian. He is overprotective towards those he loves. He has now latched onto Bianca. He gives a worried look towards the door before his mask is pulled down and a face of indifference remains.

“What’s the plan?” He asks as he turns back to me, his gaze finding the case in my hand. “Oh shit, you got the documents?”

I shrug and slip my hand back into my front pocket, returning to my relaxed stance. I have what I was looking for, which means I shouldn’t go within a five foot radius of that woman. Marcello was right. That is a certified death wish from Manzo. After watching how he was with her and how eager he was to get her back, I realized war would be a simple act for him if it meant he would get his prize back.

“I think it’s best if we find her and at least keep an eye on her. I don’t like the idea of her out there on her own.” Lincoln huffs out when I don’t answer.

I nod in agreement as I turn on my heel and stalk back out to the parking lot. Hawkins is still chatting with the officers. He makes one of them laugh and grips him on his shoulder. Hawkins looks over to me, and I lift my chin, letting him know to hurry.

I unlock the car doors, slipping into the driver’s seat. Lincoln slides into the passenger side, turning on the heat. I hand the case over to Lincoln, and he sets it at his feet. I decided not to bring my driver. The less people that know about Bianca, the better.

“She might have survived this long, but now that Manzo has gotten her scent, he won’t stop.” I finally say after a moment, watching as Hawkins makes his way back over to the car.

Lincoln nods in agreement. “I don’t know their story but I know she doesn’t have much fight left in her.”

“What are you guys talking about?” Hawkins says as he gets settled in the backseat.

“Bianca,” Lincoln answers, and I look into the rear-view mirror to see his reaction. He tenses but remains quiet. Now that I’m his boss, he’s still figuring out his ranking in the new order. He might be a boss, but at the moment, I have him by the balls.

“Thoughts?” I ask as I pull onto the main road and head towards my main office.

He lets out a heavy sigh and looks out the window. “Honestly, I’m torn. She killed my father. While I want revenge, watching what Manzo did to her seemed like payment enough. I’m not sure I could cause her any more pain than she already experienced in that damn motel. Maybe Ace can get a few things out of Jeremy at the hospital.” He pauses for a few heartbeats before he continues. “I also don’t know her motives for killing my father. He deserved it if it had anything to do with what I saw.”

We sit in silence for the rest of the drive back to the office, and when we pull up to the front of the building, I park in the reserved spot and storm up to the top floor. Usually, I show up to work in a suit. The people here rarely see the mob side of the business, as most companies I run out of this office are legitimate. The concerning looks I get when I enter the office don’t take me by surprise. We enter the main conference room and get settled into our predetermined seats.

“Why are we here?” Hawkins asks as he leans back in the chair, kicking his feet onto the table.

“First, we have something to address,” I set the briefcase on the table, and everyone, except Lincoln, has their attention locked on it. I turn the key and click open the locking mechanisms, briefly looking around the room before opening it up. A second passes, and silence is thick within the room.

“Well?” Hawkins questions, “Is it there?”

My gaze snaps to his, “It’s fucking empty.” I say in a monotone voice.

“It’s what?” Lincoln stands from his seat, looking over my shoulder into the case.

I can feel the cords of my patience snapping one by one as anger fills my veins. She duped me, lied to me, and stole the very thing that could bring my empire down. She thinks it’s okay to play games? Then fine, let's fucking play.

They are all waiting for my response, all breathing down my neck. The air in the room is stifling as the last cord snaps, and suddenly, the case is flying across the room, and my fist is slamming into the table before me. The bag of diamonds slides out of the case as it hits the wall, but nobody pays it any mind.

“That bitch gave me an empty fucking case!” I bellow, running my hands through my hair, trying to think.

Lincoln begins to laugh as he sits back down in his seat. I can tell that he is trying to suppress it, but is doing a terrible job at it. He clears his throat, but when Hawkins begins to chuckle, the entire room falls into a fit of laughter.

“You’re going after her, aren’t you?” Hawkins asks, and when I don’t answer, Hawkins chuckles, leaning his elbows on the table. “We are so fucked.”

“Think this through Ryker,” Lincoln warns, finally collecting himself. “You heard what Marcello said, and we saw first hand why Manzo wants her. If we get in the way…”

“I know.” I interrupt, sitting down in my seat and taking in a deep breath, trying to rain in my anger.

Lincoln’s hand lands on my shoulder, “Let’s focus on today’s worries. We know there’s enough of them.”

I nod, taking a calming breath. “I wanted to discuss the warehouse you’re giving me. Since you are working for me now, I’ll give you free rein. I don’t need more storage, so you can turn it into a club.” I slide Hawkins the folder with all the information, and his expression quickly turns into a deep scowl as he scans it.

“Hell no.” He shakes his head and slides the folder back over to me. “I’m not going to use your product. We’re using mine if I’m running the place and turning it into a high-end club.”

“We both know your drugs are shit. They need high-end

products if it’s a high-end club, and you can’t provide that.”

“I’ve also told you that I have to rebuild my family’s name and rebuild my family’s businesses. My father ruined every business we had. That’s why I was working for you in the first place. I need to get back on my feet.”

I nod. “Yes, and I told you that wasn’t my problem. You gave me the location, so I decide what I do with it. If I want to turn it into a club under my name, we will use my products. The fact that you're designing it doesn’t mean shit.” He balls his fists but doesn’t say anything, so I continue. “If it’s getting your product out, then I’ll pull product from one of my lower locations, and you can start selling there until you get your shit together.”

“Where?” He sits up straighter, hope starting to fill his features. “You can take the block surrounding the Duchess Strip.”

We send many of the women who aren’t fit to run in our higher- end strip clubs to the Duchess strip. It’s entirely based on desirability. Since the women who are sent there are strung out most of the time, most men wouldn’t pay high dollar for them. They still need to work off their debts, so I accommodate them.

We spent most of the day discussing the needs and wants of what to put inside the new club. Ranging from private rooms, offices, and even a basement that we could soundproof and use as an interrogation room. We wouldn’t need to soundproof much. The sound of the club would drown out anything being done downstairs.

I let Hawkins take over planning and head back to the penthouse to try and fall asleep, but as usual, I lay there for hours trying to doze off. When the sweet release of sleep finally takes over, it only lasts about three hours before it’s interrupted by my cell ringing.

Opening my eyes, I notice the darkness outside my floor-to- ceiling windows first. The sun has completely set, leaving only a haze of light pollution in its wake. I groan when I look down at my phone and see Lincoln’s name. Although that man is like family, when he calls at this time at night, it means shit is going down, and I don’t have the energy to deal with it .

“Ryker,” I answer. My voice is low, and the tiredness is engrained in every syllable.

“The six men who were arrested at the docks this morning are still in custody,” he says, his anger rolling off of him in waves.

“Have any of them talked?”

“Not yet. Ace is watching the feed from the cameras in the interrogation room from the hospital as we speak, but it’s looking like they all kept their mouths shut.”

“Go ahead and pay the bail for all six, but make sure it’s clear they will pay it back in full with interest. Hold them at dock seven until I get there.” I groan as I roll into a sitting position, wiping my hand down my face. Without another word, he hangs up the phone. We don’t need verbal confirmation; we both know he will follow orders without a second thought. I decide to use the time it’ll take for the men to be gathered and chained at the dock and take a quick shower before heading out.

Dock seven is the main dock used for our illegal business and the only dock with an extra warehouse on the lot. Each dock has a storage space filled with old crates and a mixture of weapons and imported alcohol. This dock, in particular, holds two warehouses on each side of the road. The only light being the smaller lighthouse on the edge of the pier. I get out of the passenger side and stalk to the warehouse on the left as Conner follows behind.

As soon as I open the warehouse, I hear the screams of multiple men, and the delicious smell of blood infiltrates my senses. The stairs on my right and the matching set on the far wall are metal and curve to the landing on the second floor, which is nothing more than a metal railing and empty offices.

I walk towards the third door on the back wall and see Lincoln smirking as Marcus, Lincoln’s trainee enforcer, digs a knife into one of the men’s pointer fingers. I take my spot next to Lincoln and let Marcus finish his round on the man before I interrupt.

“Well, this looks like fun,” I say with an evil smile. I nod to Marcus to step aside, and he does without hesitation. All six men are hanging from the ceiling, their hands above their heads in tight chains. Their feet don’t touch the ground. Each movement causes excruciating pain, pulling their arms at an odd angle, forcing their shoulders out of socket, little by little. Inch by inch.

“I swear. We don’t know anything!” The man Marcus just finished with speaks first, breaking the silence. He jiggles his arms, trying to get into a better position.

I nod slowly and cross the room to the table where the toys lie. I grab my favorite knife and head towards the man that spoke. The blade is thick, and the tip of the knife is bent towards the outside, so when plunged inside someone, it causes the most damage when pulled back out. It can grip onto organs and slice them in two.

I put the tip of the knife on his jaw and lightly drag it down to his carotid. I push in just an inch when he stiffens, and his eyes flare with fear. I don’t push it in far enough for the tip to hook in, but the slightest movement from him will cause it to rip the side of his throat wide open.

“I really don’t know anything.” He whispers. “The DEA wanted more information on you because they didn’t have enough to convict you of anything.” I pull the knife out, wiping the blood on my jeans, and move on to the next one.

The men don’t give me much. The ones who were taken to the DEA were all offered deals. Talk and walk. They all claim they didn’t say anything, but I can’t take the word of a low-ranking soldier. The second group of men taken by the FBI were offered something similar and yet they swear they stayed loyal.

As I approach the sixth man, I notice there is something off about him. He glances behind me at Lincoln, Marcus, and Conner before settling back on me. I smirk and rake my eyes over the knives, debating if I want to switch, but I disregard the thought as I approach him. His body goes rigid, and he looks at the other men who are giving him suspicious looks as well.

They all look at me, and I scan their faces for a flicker of acknowledgment that they know what this man is hiding, but each of them looks as confused as the last. The fifth man scowls at the sixth and tries to scoot to the left, almost like he knows he’s in the splash zone. I haven’t spoken a word to them so far, and everything has been a nonverbal threat. But the sixth man’s lips draw into a thin line.

Marcus comes to stand next to me, eager to get his hands on him. “He was at Dock five,” Marcus says as he grabs his favorite knife off the table.

“Position?” I lock eyes with the man, and he holds my gaze, almost in defiance, but then he gets his wits about him and looks down.

“Lead.”

I nod slowly. “So, he had access to everything the DEA got their hands on?” I ask Marcus for confirmation, but he doesn’t say anything. A slow grin spreads across his face, and he steps towards the man.

His eyes grow wide as Marcus approaches, and his eyes plead with me for help, but I lift my chin. Marcus pulls his arm back to thrust the knife into the man’s skull, but he yells out, “Wait! Wait! I’ll talk!” I grab Marcus’s arm tightly, causing him to step back. “It wasn’t me.” The man starts to shake violently. “I had all the information, but I swear I didn’t tell the DEA anything! If I did, why would I be the one arrested?” He glances at us frantically. “All the information is stored in my office on flash drives or hard copies. I keep it locked, but someone could have stolen them inside! ”

I narrow my eyes as I take him in. How the fuck did you become a lead if you can’t even keep classified information out of enemy hands ?

I thought my soldiers were stronger than this. I’m concerned that if any of my men were to be captured and tortured by Manzo, he would have no problem getting information if they cracked under such a simple threat.

What would they give away if the threat was on their children’s lives? At what point would it be too much and how much would they be willing to give up?

“Who has access to your office?” Marcus asks in an assertive tone.

“Anyone who can get a hold of my keys.” The man looks up at me with defeated eyes.

“So, anyone who works for you?” Lincoln mumbles almost inaudibly.

The man nods and turns his attention back to Marcus. “Please… I…”

Before he can continue to beg for his life, I hold up my hand to stop him. “Your job is to keep dock five secure. You were supposed to keep leaks out, the feds off our trail, and all documents locked away. Instead, we have the DEA and the FBI on our case because you had a major fuck up.” He shakes his head.

“You don’t understand. Nobody should have been able to get into my office. I know the men working at the dock. They would never betray me, let alone you.”

I nod slowly and put the knife back on the tray. “Well… Someone has to pay for your fuck up; if not you, then who?”

He doesn’t say a word and looks lost in thought. It takes him about a full minute before he answers. “I had an issue with one of the men a few weeks ago. He wanted my position because it pays more. He disappeared, and I had one of my more trusted men try to locate him, but we couldn’t.”

“Why wasn’t I notified?” I ask.

“I didn’t want to bother you with it. It didn’t seem like a big enough problem to get you involved. I thought we could handle it.”

I gesture to Lincoln with a wave of my hand. “His job is to keep you men in check so I don’t have to. You are the Lead. If you can’t do your job properly, I can find a replacement.” I say with a shrug of indifference.

He shakes his head rapidly. “No, No, it’s not a problem.” “What’s the name of the man?” Lincoln asks impatiently. “Victor Donson.”

I nod, pull my gun from my waistband, and aim at man six. His eyes go wide, and he starts pleading as they all do right before death. “Please… I didn’t…” I pull the trigger, hitting him in the center of the forehead. His whole body jolts backward and sways in the chains from the impact of the bullet. I lower the gun and turn my attention to the other five men. The man hanging next to him has blood and brains splattered all over his face.

“All of you will pay the bail of $500,000 with interest.” I give Marcus a pat on the back. “The longer you last, the less you will pay.” They all give me confused looks, and I smirk. “It appears you are all in need of some resistance training. If Manzo got a hold of any of you, you would all crack, spilling my secrets. Marcus here is in need of some practice…Lincoln will give each of you a name, and whoever lasts the longest gets their fee waived and gets his job.” I gesture to the swaying body, and they all look at me with horrified expressions as I leave the room .

Lincoln and Marcus were able to drag out the torture training for about five hours until the last man cracked. It was longer than I expected, but I was still disappointed at the lack of restraint. My father started my lessons on my fifteenth birthday, and I took my first life just a year before.

These men have seen nothing in comparison and have been through far less, and that’s the problem. My men need to be ready for anything. When the rats I planted in the FBI told me that they had it on good authority, Manzo’s men were the ones that broke into dock five and stole all the information; it didn’t come as a surprise. All day, I’ve heard rumors from Hawkins and his men that Manzo was planning on attacking one of my docks, which would be an act of war. This just adds fuel to the fire. Manzo will burn.

After a restless few hours of tossing and turning, I decide to go ahead and start my day. With it being nearly noon, I decide to make my way to one of my higher-end clubs, Dice. It shouldn’t be too crowded.

All day I've been trying to find the perfect woman to send into Manzo’s territory to get information. Dice is mainly used by high rollers such as businessmen or politicians who want their infidelity to go unnoticed.

We see this as a rehabilitation center. The amount of money a woman has left to pay determines her punishment. Most have learned their lesson by the end and never look back, but those who seem to never leave, usually the drug addicts, are placed in the lower-class clubs. Most of the women at this strip club are here because of gambling debts and snitching to cops. So, trying to find a slightly educated woman or someone smart enough to pull off being a mole will be difficult.

I find the stack of files of the women’s debts that are almost cleared. A blonde 25-year-old is here for a gambling debt of

$700,000 and has been working it off for five years.

I stand and go back into the main room, scanning the crowd for her. I see her grinding against a middle-aged, balding man. Her eyebrows are pinched in concentration, and she flinches when the man touches her.

She is thin, and her blonde hair falls to her mid-back. I can’t help but notice the similarities between her and Bianca. I feel my dick stir.

Why haven’t I been able to get Bianca’s tight pussy out of my mind? I just want to break her open, devour her, and form her sweet little pussy to my cock.

“My office. Now.” I mumble to the blonde from behind the couch. She stiffens and whips around, fear plastered on her face. She gives the man an apologetic but fake smile and follows me into the back.

I sit behind my desk and flip open her file. She stands in the doorway, fidgeting with her red dress. We keep paper trails because they can be easily destroyed. If we keep the documents digital, someone as talented as Ace could easily break into our system and find information about not only us, but our girls too. Safety is important to us.

“Looks like you’ve been here for a while,” I say scanning her file for the third time. She nods but doesn’t look at me.

I don’t like to fuck the girls because I know they feel obligated to. I could go to any club in the city and pick up any girl I wanted. I wouldn’t waste my time on them, so if they get called to my office, they know it’s not good .

“Have a seat.” I gesture to the seat in front of me, getting irritated by her lingering.

She looks at it for a moment and then cautiously takes a seat on the edge as if she is ready to bolt. “Ava Harrington. $700,000 at twenty-one.” I look up at her, as she averts her gaze, picking at her cuticles. “How did that happen?”

“My mom was a drug addict, and my father tried to gamble to get the money to pay Leo Hawkins back and borrowed money from you to do it.” Her voice is soft and so low it’s almost a whisper.

I slowly nod and lean back in my chair, eyeing her. “So, you’re paying off their debt?”

“My mom is paying her drug debt to the Hawkins family by working the streets, and my father…” She looks up and narrows her eyes in a small act of defiance. “Your men killed him. When they found out he had a daughter, they gave me a choice. Die like my father or work for you.”

“Why would my men give you that offer if you did nothing wrong?”

She clenches her jaw and looks at the painting on the wall next to her. “Because, I hid my parents.” She whispers. “They thought it would be fair if I worked off my father’s debt.”

I nod. “That’s typical in our line of work.” I fold my hands on the table and lean over. “Here’s what I’m going to offer you. Tonight can be your last shift… if you do something for me.”

Her eyes shoot up. “I still have another two years…” She narrows her eyes once more, then shakes her head. “I’m not going to fuck you.”

“I don’t want to fuck you. ” I grimace and slide her folder over to her. “I need you to get me the name of a woman who works closely with Manzo. ”

“I can’t do that. Those women aren’t…” She shakes her head, slides the folder back to me, and stands. “Those women have been through enough. ”

“What do you mean?”

She crosses her arms and lifts her chin. “Don’t act like you don’t know. If I walk into any of his buildings looking for work, I would never walk out.”

I nod and slowly stand, “I know they treat their women rough, but…”

“Rough?” She laughs, interrupting me, and shakes her head. “It’s abuse . It’s rape . It’s…”

“I’ve seen firsthand what he does.” I hiss at her insubordination, “I don’t care how you get the information, but I need a name.” I forcefully slide the folder back over to her. “Either you take the offer, or I will make you. If you force my hand, you will continue to work off those last two years here. Your choice.” She looks back down at the folder and sighs, reaching to pick it up. I put my large hand over the folder, stopping her. “If you take this deal, I should tell you that if you breathe a word of this to anyone, we will hunt you down and fucking kill you. Very slowly. Do you understand?”

“If I’m going to be putting not only my life on the line but also the life of an innocent woman, there is something I want to know.” I lift my chin, and she continues. “Why do you need this name?”

I smirk. “I need it because I asked for it. Now, go do your job.” I pull my hand away from the folder and watch as she flips through it. Taking the lighter off of my desk, she lights the edge of it on fire. She holds onto it until it reaches her fingers, then throws the folder into the trash, watching until nothing but embers remain.

“I’ll get you that information, but then I’m free.” She looks up at me, but before I can respond, she leaves the room, closing the door behind her .

The girl has spunk to her, I’ll give her that. I shake my head, turning my attention to the trash can, and watch as the flame goes out.

◆◆◆

Lincoln and I sit on the couch, drinking a bottle of whiskey, trying to relax before life sends us into more of a tailspin.

“I hired a girl from Dice to find out what she can.” I say. “If she talks…” Lincoln starts

“She will be dead in a matter of minutes.” I interrupt. “Now, it’s just a waiting game.”

“We know he is planning an attack on one of the docks. Do you have anything lined up for a counterattack?”

“Have you started training again?”

“Marcus handles most of the men who aren’t staying at the Inns.

He’s been a bit busy these past two days.”

I nod. “We have a shipment coming in tomorrow morning. It’s best if we have your team there in addition to those who are already assigned.”

“Do you think he’s going to attack tonight?”

“I don’t know why he wouldn’t. This is the biggest shipment we will get all year. Most of the items are things we will use when we open XOXO. If I wanted to hit someone where it hurt most, that would be my move.”

Lincoln’s phone rings and instantly picks up when he sees the name on the screen. He mumbles a few things into the phone before hanging up and standing, giving me a grin when he does. “Ace found Victor Donson. He sent Marcus to pick him up and bring him to dock seven. If we head there now, we should be able to get the name of the man who’s been reporting to Manzo by morning.”