BANE

FUCK. All my fucking senses are on high alert. My anger has come out full force, leaving my employees diving out of my way. Rachel was the first to pick up on my mood as I strolled into the club.

“Drink, Mr. Rivera?” she asked, already placing a glass of whisky on the counter.

I took the glass with a curt not and did a lap of the club. I had six girls on the poles, each of them with a couple of gentlemen watching the show. It was mid-morning on a Saturday. Things weren’t going to heat up until later tonight, but I did have a bachelor party...