“Then give them flea shampoo, and be done with it. The next fight is in two weeks. He can debut thirty fighters, and I wouldn’t care.”
Benny scowled, but the expression didn’t bother me. It wasn’t the first time someone had looked at me with contempt, and it wouldn’t be the last.
I drummed my fingers on the table. “Are we done here?”
Colton Lawrence opened a folder and turned to me. Sleazy as shit with greased hair and a shady temperament, he was the perfect man to run one of our other enterprises.
“We have some new girls who want to work at the club. I’ve questioned them about just how much they’re willing to take following the fights. As usual, they were enthusiastic. But they’ll need to be trained.”
My eyes slid his direction, the corner of my mouth curling.
“Let me guess? They saw a fight and can’t wait to have one of the men between their legs?”
Grinning, Colton slid a stack of papers across the table to me. I slapped a palm over it and flipped through the nameless faces. All the girls were dolled up, their eyes hungry and bodies tight. It was getting to a point where they all looked the same. Nothing here was worth more than a passing glance.
“I suspect they’re all hoping you’ll be the one between their legs. We all know these sluts can’t get enough of you.”
My brow arched, and I slid the papers back.
“Break them in yourself. If they can handle your nasty hands then they might be a decent prize for those who walk out of the pit.”
A laugh shook Colton’s shoulders, his eyes rounding with the thrill of teaching the girls their paces. I wasn’t interested in training them in the beginning. Nothing had been worth breaking down a woman until she was fit to take whatever the fighters would do to them.
Exhausted, I stared at each of the men before asking, “Anything else?”
They shook their heads, and I took that as my cue to leave.
They stood from their seats as I pushed to my feet to round the table and leave. Not one of them dared to call me back. I had a temper that could flip at any second. I hadn’t intended it to be that way, but time and circumstance had shaped me. It wasn’t often that I felt alive. Mainly in the pit, where another’s life was held in my hands. Sometimes in this house with its maze of halls and countless rooms.
I was bothered as I left the conference room, mostly by Franklin’s behavior when we last spoke. He wasn’t the type to keep secrets, especially not from me.
But I had to trust him.
In the ten years since the majority of the Rose family was gunned down during Lisbeth’s ball, Franklin had raised me to lead this family. He adopted me so my last name would be Rose. Why he didn’t take the helm and lead himself, I was never sure.
Whatever the reason, at twenty-two I was named head of the family, and in the three years since, we’d regained the notoriety and prestige we’d held when Marcus was alive.
Our businesses weren’t exactly legal. Perhaps what people could see of them, but not in the shadows where the real money was made.
When I’d first been introduced to the truth of the pit where the fights were held, I’d changed in that moment. I’d found a place where violence reigned and men could test their strength. The only thing I’d wanted was to be one of those men, to release the beast inside me, to fuck one of the beauties given to them once the fight was over.
Franklin had objected, at first, but then realized as the years bled on that I needed that arena to work out my problems.
Five years and I was still undefeated. In that time, I’d killed countless men.
“Mr. Rose.”
A maid staggered back as I marched down the hall, her back pressed to the wall as if she couldn’t give me enough room to pass. Beaten down by the demands of their jobs, they always looked at me as if I were something superior, most not knowing that I had once wandered the servant’s quarters myself, a young boy living with his mother.
I stopped as I approached her and tilted my head. Blue eyes stared up at me, her hands shaking, and I realized she must be new.