Page 4 of That Mafioso Magic
CHAPTER TWO
Iwatched as the customer in front of me snorted a line of my designer drug off the mirrored tray, testing its quality. As if I’d ever sell a shit product. In this business, reputation was everything. I cocked an eyebrow as he stood up and shook himself all over and wiped his nose. He nodded to one of his men and gave them a goofy smile. I kept my expression neutral even though I wanted to roll my eyes at his foolishness. I’d never be so stupid as to get hooked on my own supply, but far be it from me to tell the man how to run his business. I just knew it was a recipe for disaster.
“Satisfied?” I asked.
“Fuck yeah. That’s good shit. Fucking pure as hell,” he stated. “So, what’s your secret and is this cut?”
A bit of magic to give it that extra kick, but I wasn’t going to tell this motherfucker that. “That sample is cut, but what is in that case is uncut. I take pride in selling quality because then you always guarantee that the customer, being yourself, will return,” I said.
“Price is a bit steep, though, for a drug I’ve never heard of before,” he complained. “Sixty K for a little over a kilo?”
“Well, I don’t sell the kind of drugs you can find anywhere. So, therefore, I expect to be paid for its worth.”
“Do you sell cocaine?” he asked, then shivered in pleasure as more of the drug’s sensation kicked in. “Oooh shit… this stuff is lit! What do you call it again?”
Fucking humans. “G-14, and I must insist you keep the name.”
“Still, that price—"
“Is non-negotiable. If you know what you’re doing, you’ll make three times as much. But hey, if you want the poor-quality cheap shit, go somewhere else,” I said, finally fed up with this son of a bitch trying to bargain me down.
He raised his hands as if surrendering, then dipped a finger into the remainder of the G-14. He took a taste this time and nodded approvingly. “Pay the man,” he commanded one of his guys holding a suitcase.
He’d sauntered into my office with three of them, all fully armed, no doubt. I didn’t give a shit, regular bullets had no effect on me, but most humans didn’t know that. I had my own crew at my side. Two of the baddest bitches in my mob and pride. Of course, I only had women in my family. I didn’t share well with other males. Part of my nature. Shi was at my right, her keen brown eyes never leaving my guests. She had two guns, silver-colored beauties in her side holsters, and silver daggers sheathed at her thighs. My other bodyguard, Nadia, watched the interaction from the door. If anyone tried to pull a stunt and make a break for it without paying, they’d have to get through her first. Good luck with that shit. Her weapons of choice were a pair of nasty looking knives with blades shaped like dragons. And of course, her claws.
I sat slouching slightly as I counted the stacks of money my customer was piling on top of my mahogany desk. I picked one up, flipping through the bills to make sure they were all actual bills. I sniffed it to make sure it wasn’t counterfeit. All was on the up and up, and that was good news for them, because if they tried to screw me over, I’d serve them up for dinner. Lions had veracious appetites and loved a good hunt.
“This concludes our business,” I said.
“Always a pleasure,” Mr. Fredrick said, then he motioned for his crew to grab his purchase in the suitcase and follow him out.
I nodded to Nadia and she knew to escort them off my premises. I stood up, checking all the stacks of money. It had been a good deal. Sixty grand for three pounds of G-14. This was what some called a test run in the business. My shit guaranteed you would get customers. All of my product had that extra special spark that could get someone highly addicted without all of the side effects. You get to keep your teeth, no nose bleeds, no deaths from overdoses, heart attacks, or the like. There was no money to be gained in losing customers. My stuff gave people a fantastic feeling and it made me a very wealthy man. The other bonus being, it was hard for police to trace. What looked like cocaine or meth didn’t seem to have that same compound. Magic made the difference. That and some damn good chemists.
If Mr. Fredrick was as clever a dealer as he thought he was, he should be extremely successful selling that batch. He’ll return and then purchase a real batch, and that was where million-dollar sales came from. I was certain I’d be seeing him again, because like he’d attested to, my shit was of the highest quality. I dealt in all kinds of designer drugs with all different levels of effects. Not to mention guns, money laundering, prostitution, gambling, and on occasion, murder-for-hire. The gambling was a good way to launder the money. Hard to track how much money passed through a casino, and I owned several. All different venues. Three were pretty extravagant for all of my high rollers. One was located in Vegas and was also a hotel. Another in Orlando; a casino and dance club. The last one was on a ship that also had a theater for live performances. Two were mid-level, in cheap hotels that had all-you-can-eat buffets. All five were legit, though, and that was what mattered.
I also owned a high-end chop shop that fronted as a dealership… I didn’t deal with economy cars. If the car didn’t cost a hundred grand, don’t bother trying to sell it to me. Business was good. Cops were in my pocket to look the other way on anything that might draw attention. The only thing I had to worry about were other business men and women looking to take a piece of my action. I ran the north side of Chicago. The Griezels ran the west side, and the fucking vampires ran the south and east side. And those greedy fucks were always looking to expand. Being violent kept them at bay since they felt they were too good to be criminals. Shifters and griezels were all about that life, so I had to keep my eye on their asses, too. Also, my competition knew I was magical as well, but no one knew just how powerful I was.
I made certain to do some tricks in public to keep that fear intact for their eyes only. Simple tricks like making my fingertips spark fire when I snapped them, just to make them think I could conjure fire. I couldn’t, but they didn’t need to know that. As long as they thought I could, it would keep the vampires off my back. Salino was the Archduke of Chicago and someone I didn’t really want to tussle with. So, appearances were everything. As for the griezels, fire did diddly squat to them. They really didn’t want to tussle with my pride, so that kept them on their side of town… for now.
“Sage, do you want me to take this to the casino?” Shi asked.
The sound of her voice brought me out of my thoughts. Now that we were alone, she called me by my name. Her and Nadia were the only ones in my pride I allowed the privilege. In front of humans, calling me Boss was acceptable. But in the privacy of my pride, I preferred to be called king by my other members, as I was the lion king of my pride of fifty females.
I had been standing at the window looking down at the employees in my auto shop. Really, the place was a perfect cover. In the back of the showroom was where the auto shop was and where my office overlooked. It was perfectly legal; anyone could get their cars serviced. But underneath was where the real work was done. That was where the chop shop was located. So, if by some chance the police found themselves raiding this place, all they’d get was shit for their troubles.
On the other side of my office were the hidden monitors where I could keep an eye on those working in the underground garage. People needed to be monitored. So many of them thought they were slick. Nobody stole from me and lived. They may not know what I am, but they knew not to fuck with me. I turned to look at Shi.
“What did you ask me? Sorry, my mind was somewhere else.”
She smirked, then pointed to the money on my desk. “Do you want me to have this taken to the casino?”
One of our less extravagant ones in town would do. It was good for laundering small change like this. “Yeah, have Jennifer work it into the books.”
“Will do.”
I’d learned from other’s mistakes not to leave paper trails or avoid paying my taxes. I wasn’t worried about going to jail. Good luck trying to put a shifter into a cell. But honestly, who needed the fucking scrutiny? Living my life above board allowed me to rub elbows with the elite in society all the while taking care of business my way.
“There is something else I have to tell you,” Shi said. And by the sound of her voice, I knew I wasn’t going to like the news.
