The Talk

SHAY

“Let’s start with introductions, then we’ll answer any questions you have,” Zane suggested, leaning back in his oversized chair. He gestured to Conner to begin.

“I’m Conner Wilkins. We all grew up together in Italy, mostly at Zane’s place. If we weren’t seen together, people would wonder where the missing one was.

“We were so tight-knit that folks assumed we were always together. I’m twenty-five, same as these two, and none of us are hitched.”

Next up was Noah. “I’m Noah Jacob Milwaukee. And no, my last name isn’t related to the beer. Most folks call me Noah, but the boss here likes to use my middle name sometimes.

“Conner pretty much covered the basics, so that’s all you need to know about me.” He flashed a grin that could make any woman weak in the knees.

“I’ve heard rumors that you guys are involved in the mafia. Is that true?” I asked, glancing at the three of them. They were all incredibly attractive; any woman would be lucky to be with them.

They all grinned and nodded. Conner turned to me.

“Bossman here is the leader. I’m his right-hand man, and Noah is third in command. We make decisions together, but if someone needs to speak to us by rank, that’s the order.”

“So Zane is the infamous killer everyone talks about?” I asked, locking eyes with him.

Another waitress brought over more drinks, and he downed one.

“If you cross me, then yes, I’ve been known to take drastic measures. I run the biggest operation here, while my parents run the largest one in Italy.

“I moved here because I wanted to lead my own crew without my father’s interference.”

“What use am I to you? I don’t want any part of this, and I don’t even know how to use a gun,” I said, hoping my excuse would be enough to get me out of this situation.

Zane’s eyes darkened. He leaned forward in his chair and wagged his finger at me.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk. The quickest way to piss me off is to lie about something I already know.

“You’ve had a concealed weapons permit since you were eighteen. Your father used to take you to shooting ranges every week to hone your skills.

“You were planning to join the Marines as a sniper, but your mother wouldn’t let you,” Zane said.

I hung my head. I should have known he would have detailed information about me. I nodded and looked up at him. “I should have realized you could find out anything you wanted about my past.”

“This is about getting to know each other and building trust, which you’re failing at by lying to me. I even know where you buy your underwear, if you’re curious.

“When my people dig, they dig deep. I demand it when I want to know about someone.” That devilish smirk was back on his face.

“If you want to know about us, just ask. We’re an open book to those we trust or want to talk to.” Conner smiled at me as he took a sip of his drink.

“What exactly do you want from me and why?” I asked, staring Zane down.

“I told you what I want and why,” he replied, looking me up and down. “And I always get what I want, when I want it. No questions asked.”

I stood up, and he watched me as I walked over to the window and looked down at the bustling dance floor.

The room was soundproof, so the music was barely audible, but watching everyone scurrying around, serving drinks, and making money brought a tear to my eye.

I needed money to help pay for my apartment and bills. There were plenty of big spenders here tonight, throwing money around as the waitresses delivered drinks.

“What’s wrong? Why are you crying?” Zane asked, his voice cold and harsh.

“I need to be down there, working to pay my bills. I don’t understand why you would choose me out of everyone here?” I wiped a tear from my cheek.

I heard him stand up. He came over and stood next to me, looking down at the busy floor.

“See how hard they have to work to make ends meet? Serving men who grope them, leer at them, and get turned on by something they can’t have.”

“Yes, I deal with that every night I work here. That’s why I stay—those men tip the best.

“They might fantasize about having me, but their money is damn good,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Zane turn to look at me. He reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet, never breaking eye contact.

“How much do you usually make in a night here?”

I shook my head. I didn’t want his money—I was a hard worker who earned her money honestly.

Suddenly, he spun me around and pinned me against the glass. He held my wrists above my head, letting me know he wasn’t happy.

“I asked you a question; I expect an answer.” His eyes were cold, his expression stone-like.

“I don’t want your money. I earn it the hard way. I’ve never asked for handouts. The last thing I want is to be known as a gold digger who latches onto someone for their money.”

His body pressed against mine, and I was afraid the glass would shatter behind me.

“That’s not what I asked. I want an answer. I can find out, you know.”

“How? Our tips aren’t counted here. We don’t split them, and we don’t have to report how much we make each night.”

He stepped away from me, striding over to a laptop. Picking it up, he returned to my side. “Should I play the footage from last night’s cameras to see how much you pocketed?”

Damn, I’d completely forgotten about the cameras. I shook my head, but he tossed the laptop to Conner, who caught it with ease. I tried to sit, but he pressed me against the glass once more.

“You don’t get to sit until I have my answer. Conner, start tallying from last night, will you? I’d wager she walked out with at least five hundred.”

“On it, boss,” Conner replied. I heard the click-clack of keys, then silence as he focused on the screen.

“You have two choices. Stand here while he reviews your shift, or just tell me what I want to know.”

My gaze flicked between Zane and Conner. Noah had joined in to watch the footage too.

“She’s already up two hundred in the first hour.” Conner and Noah clicked and scrolled, likely skipping to the next tip.

“Alright!” I snapped, rolling my eyes at Zane. “I left with about seven hundred last night.”

“Was that so difficult?” He smirked, releasing me.

“I don’t appreciate people poking around in my personal affairs,” I retorted, staring at the floor.

I felt him move behind me, his hand resting on my shoulder, guiding me away from the glass.

“I’m not poking, just curious about how well you’d do on a busy night like this. I own the club; I should know what my customers are tipping. It’s my business, in a way.”

I nodded as he gently turned me to face him. He met my gaze, then handed me a wad of cash from his wallet.

“This is for tonight, for keeping me company.”

I took the money, balled my fist, and stepped around him to leave. But at the snap of his fingers, his two henchmen blocked my path.

I spun around, arms crossed, glaring at him.

“Are you going to stop me from using the restroom now?” My voice was icy.

He laughed and gestured to the far end of the room.

“It’s over there, sweetheart. We have our own private restrooms, so we don’t have to mingle with the guests or deal with the mess drunk patrons can make.”

I followed his direction and started walking, the men trailing behind. I waved them off. “I don’t need an escort to the bathroom, you know.”

“Just making sure you don’t make a run for it. I’m not done with you yet.”

I reached the door, the men taking up positions on either side as I entered. The bathroom was enormous, with only a glass block window for natural light.

I guessed they didn’t want anyone peeping in. I finished up and took in the opulent surroundings.

A large walk-in shower with spa jets, a Jacuzzi tub big enough for two, and a double vanity with gold, motion-activated faucets.

I washed my hands and dried them on a plush gold towel. As I approached the door, I rested my hand on the cool wood, wishing I could just go back to work.

I sighed, pulling the door open. The two men were still there, as if they hadn’t moved an inch. They followed me back to the entrance, resuming their posts.