“Positive. Payment for every third customer gets passed to his counterpart at the other end of the bar.”
Elliot sensibly kept his eyes on me, knowing any suspicious behavior might tip-off the bartender before I played my hand. And that would be such a shame.
“You wanted to buy this place,” he deadpanned.
I smirked. “You know me. I like a challenge.”
A scuffle broke out a few feet in front of us, an argument over one of the girls. One of the men punched the other, and he fell backward onto the table. The wood splintered, gave way, and broken glass littered the floor.
I watched with veiled interest as the security team launched into action—too late in my opinion. Good security identified and resolved issues before they got out of hand. This bunch of assholes seemed more interested in creating war than engendering peace.
The offenders were dragged off, their vocal protests fading into the ether. The girl in question dusted herself down, huffed at a tear in her panty hose, then stomped off.
“Is it too late to ask for a refund?” Elliot broke into a shit-eating grin.
“Nothing here I haven’t seen before. Remember Budapest?”
“Do I ever,” Elliot said. “I thought the manager was gonna stick you when you gave him his cards.”
I snorted. “He could have tried. All this place needs is the right leadership. I already have a manager in mind. By the time I’ve finished, this joint will fit nicely alongside my others.”
Elliot pulled his lips to one side. “Why are you even in this field? It’s not like you visit to watch the girls dance, and it only makes spending money compared with, say, our distribution business.”
“One man’s spending money is another man’s riches,” I replied. “And if you bothered to check out the latest balance sheet for this part of the group, you’d see it’s providing an incredible return on the original investment. Sex sells, my friend, even when you’re only allowed to look and not touch. At least at my clubs, the women are protected, well paid, and we take out the trash.” I arched an eyebrow. “Are you saying you want me to remove the Poles Apart brand from the ROGUES portfolio and take it independent?”
“I didn’t say that,” Elliot hastily said, his interest greater now I’d mentioned it was making money. “I’ve just never understood the why of it, that’s all.”
“Does there have to be a why? The bottom line makes sense. Not a fortune, but enough to make it worthwhile, and the latest growth projections are impressive. There’s nothing more to my interest than that.” I scanned around, my gaze alighting on Tanaka coming out of a room with a young woman in tow. And when I said young, I meant far too fucking young.
He had a firm grip of her wrist and was tugging her behind him as if she were his pet dog. She stumbled, almost losing her footing. He yanked on her arm so hard, it surprised me he didn’t pull it right out of the socket.
“I need a favor,” I said.
Elliot followed my line of sight, his jaw tightening, his lips almost disappearing into a white slash as he spotted what had caught my attention. Elliot despised violence of any kind against women. Don’t get me wrong. None of us stood for that shit, but Elliot’s response was more visceral. Understandable considering that up until the age of eight, he’d lived in a violent home, his nightmare only coming to an end when his father beat his mother so badly, she finally plucked up the courage to get help. After that, Elliot’s life vastly improved. His father had been given a twelve-year stretch, never to be heard of again, and his mom remarried a really good man who Elliot and his sister, Athena, thought of as their real dad.
“Want me to take that fucker out back and teach him some manners?” Elliot bit out.
I shook my head. “Go purchase an hour with the girl. Talk to her. If she can’t speak English, call Jirou and get him to translate.”
Jirou was one of my trusted advisors, and a very useful man to know especially given that he spoke nine languages. I’d have brought him to Japan, but he was taking a well-earned vacation with his family.
“I want the skinny on the type of establishment our friend is running here. It’ll make for useful leverage when things turn nasty.”
“How do you suggest I approach the girl without causing issues with Tanaka before you’re ready to introduce us?” Elliot asked.
I tensed as Tanaka pushed the girl down onto his lap, his hand snaking up her thigh, forcing her legs apart. She squirmed, abundantly uncomfortable with Tanaka’s coercion. He gripped her around the throat and said something that made her freeze and had her eyes filling with terror.
“Never mind,” Elliot barked. “I got this.”
Elliot’s tall, commanding figure cut through the crowds as if they weren’t even there. I knew that body language, had seen it in action on many occasions. Hiroto Tanaka was about to learn a valuable lesson.
Picking up my glass of water, I waited for the fun to unfold.
I didn’t get to see it.
Something much more shocking caught my eye and diverted my attention. A woman holding a tray of drinks above her head weaved in between the crammed tables. I squinted, my body automatically leaning forward. It couldn’t be… except it was.
A sickening feeling unfurled in my stomach. Athena? What the actual fuck?
I shot a quick look at Elliot. If he saw his sister working in a joint like this when she was supposed to be traveling the world and having fun—on Elliot’s dime—I’d have to peel him off the ceiling. He’d lose his shit in a major way. Elliot had a fiery enough temper at the best of times—one he did his utmost to control—the fear of turning into his father never far below the surface. Elliot worried that nature would overcome nurture. I thought that was bullshit, and I’d told him so on several occasions. Elliot could no more use his fists against a woman than I could. Yet, for him, it was a real concern, and one I knew gave him sleepless nights on occasion.
Setting my glass on the bar, I made a beeline for her, my trademark calm at risk of failing me when a jerk grabbed Athena’s ass as she passed by his table. The glasses on her tray wobbled, but she kept her balance. She bent down and spoke to him, giving me, and half the fucking club, a perfect view of her tits spilling over the top of the club’s slutty uniform—another change I’d be making on day one. And from this angle, Athena wasn’t offering a mere glimpse. She’d given away the top prize.
Whatever she said to the guy seemed to pacify him, allowing her to move away without further mauling. I almost deviated from my course to break the bastard’s arm. Instead, I took a deep breath and stalked after her as she weaved between the tables, placing down drinks and accepting tips… that one asshole shoved into her fucking bra.
Enough already.
I glanced over my shoulder at Elliot, relieved to see him deep in conversation with a pissed-off-looking Tanaka instead of paying any heed to me. Good. At least something was going right.
Athena finished serving the last drink on her tray, but as she set off toward the bar to collect her next order, I stepped into her path, cutting her off.
“Hello, Athena,” I said, smiling coldly.
Her eyes widened so much that I could see the whites all the way around her amber irises, one of Athena’s many striking features. That had always been her problem. Athena was too fucking beautiful for her own good. Ever since I’d known her, she’d used her attractiveness to get away with murder, often succeeding, much to the chagrin of her parents and her brother. Shame she didn’t have more of the traits of her namesake. She should have been named Eris, goddess of a fuck load of trouble.