Page 49 of Redemption

He nods and snaps his fingers at the new waitress standing near the entrance to the room. She quickly turns away.

“Your father has been working you to the bone?”

I raise a brow at him. “How do you know?”

“I overheard Daddy dearest.”

I smirk at him. “I didn’t realize you were one for gossip.”

He chuckles as he spreads his arms out on the back of the booth. “You know I love gossip. It got me to where I am.”

I shake my head at him and prop my feet on the table between us. The waitress quickly returns with a bottle of Redbreast, a bottle of Beluga Epicure, an ice bucket, and a glass. Roland runs his hand along the back of her thigh while she is bent over the table filling his glass with vodka. He smacks her ass when she stands.

“Good girl.” He then pulls her onto his lap, squeezing her side and by the look on her face, I can tell she is nervous. “Next time, make sure this is already here or else I’ll remove you from VIP and put you back on the floor.”

“Yes, sir,” she says meekly.

“And speak with confidence. Make sure the men want you.”

“Yes, sir,” she says louder, her chest pushing out as she says it.

He runs a finger along her breasts and I watch a shiver roll down her spine. “Good girl.” He helps her stand and smacks her ass again. “Tie the curtain and don’t come in unless you are called for.”

“Yes, sir,” she says again before doing as he says.

“New toy?” I ask.

He shrugs. “We’ll see. She wanted to work this floor and did fine at the second-level table service. But as soon as I moved her up here, she got shy. You know some of the assholes on this floor like the shy ones but I worry they may take advantage.”

“Sounds like she crawled under your skin.”

He laughs before sipping his extremely overpriced vodka. “Nah. But I am hoping she crawls into my bed eventually. Did you see those tits?”

“Nothing special to me.”

“Is Kilian Bancroft really turning down a piece of ass?”

I sip my whiskey and look out into the crowd. “Not in the mood.”

“So something did crawl up your ass?” he chuckles.

“Some days I’m not in the mood,” I say blandly before leaning over the table and pouring myself another drink.

Roland and I grew up together. Our family’s estates on the same streets. He was a little shit when we were little and now he is a bigger shit. I blame the fact he’s younger than me by four years. But I love the guy. How can I not? We are one and the same. Both cocky assholes who get everything we want. Our fathers both have seats at the table with The Partners. Something neither of us knew until a year ago when both our fathers brought us in and groomed us to take over. But Roland has one too many loose screws. He makes mistakes. I’ve seen them. And I know he won’t get the seat he is dying for anytime soon.

“How are the clubs doing?” I ask.

“Exponentially profitable as usual. And ever since this one opened four months ago, there is always a line to get in.”

“You have naked men and women swinging above the crowd on swings and ropes. Everyone wants to see it with their own eyes.”

“It was one of my better ideas.”

“You’ve always had a taste for the extreme.”

He throws back the rest of his vodka. “It pays the bills.”

I shake my head. The man doesn’t need to work. His family is deeply involved in the oil business and they have enough money to live off billions for centuries. Not to mention their involvement with The Partners. But Roland always was a daredevil, a risk-taker. As a kid, he did a few too many wild things that caused a few broken bones. And once he went to college, he had more fun playing with coeds than actually getting an education. When he told me he wanted to open a club I knew he would succeed. He is as much of a playboy as me. And the two of us easily drew in a crowd when he opened his first club. Now he has ten. Four in London, the rest around the world. All places where the rich can indulge in sexual activities if they pay the right price. I am still waiting for the day he opens a sex club.

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