Page 63 of The Kingpin's Call Girl

“Okay, then.” Bender draws a black cloth from his pocket and wipes the screen of his phone. “Think about what I’ve said. I’ll be in touch.”

Three hours later, I get another text. It’s a Riverdale address and a time: one a.m.

I text back.

Dress code?

Did you do what I told you?

Yes.

Dress code unlocked. Isn’t that what you kids say?

I stare at the last message. Is Luka making a joke? It seems outrageous that he’d make a joke.

Give me an address. I’ll send a car.

No need.

There’s a shocker.

I send him the face-with-tongue emoji.

He sends me the frown face.

I stare at my phone. Are we bantering now? Is that what we’re doing?

I shove the phone away.

Chapter Twenty-Four

LUKA

Running a clan isn’t like managing some fucking corner store. It’s messier, more complicated. One bad call can destroy everything we’ve built, turn allies into enemies, or put my people in the ground. Mistakes don’t end with a bad review—they end with blood.

You need more than instincts—you need a predator’s vision and a fierce bullshit detector. And the meetings—Christ, the meetings. Always in the dead of night, in the backrooms of businesses where real power moves in shadows.

I don’t mind. Each meeting establishes my dominance. Shows who sits at the head of the table.

I stride out of one such meeting from the back of an electronics store on 156th Street, having just straightened out the Russians and their Bitcoin problems. They came in loud and left quiet. Problem solved.

Dardan follows me out with a few other soldiers, their eyes never meeting mine directly.

Dardan approaches after the Russians disappear. “I hope you enjoyed yourself the other night.”

I fixhim with a stare.

“The girl? Honey?”

In one fluid motion, I close the distance between us, my hand finding his throat before he can blink. His eyes widen as I apply just enough pressure to remind him of his mortality. “Never mind!” he chokes out.

“She’s not for you,” I say, voice like ice.

“Didn’t know?—”

I tighten my grip slightly. “Now you do.”

I release him, and he stumbles back, hand at his throat, fear and respect warring in his eyes. The others look away, pretending they saw nothing.

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