Page 11 of Truth
I would do anything for my brother, Luca. Younger by three minutes, our bond is unbreakable. It’s been me and him against the world for most of our lives since our parents were killed by a drunk driver when we were in our teens, forcing us to move from relative to relative. Inevitably, we overstayed our welcome. Nobody wanted to deal with two teenage boys with anger issues, especially considering our backgrounds. Our father and his brother grew up and were groomed to join the “family business,” but my father left, asking for his freedom. The consequence was his excommunication; he didn’t exist anymore. No contact meant that we grew up devoid of paternal family, but we understood the sacrifices he made for us to live normally, so we never pushed.
If my father were alive, he would have died all over again at the criminality of our behavior, after the accident. We got involved with bad people, at the wrong time. I turned to our Uncle Giovanni and made the sacrifice to get my hands dirty to keep us afloat, so that the future my father hoped for would at least be met by one of us.
When we turned eighteen respectively, our inheritance was released, and we invested to start King Enterprises. Starting with small nightclubs and bars, since that’s where I spent most my time, I already understood the business. The more success came our way, the more upstanding we became, or Luca became (I’m still a bit more unpredictable). There isn’t so much a need for the street smarts and cruelty I acquired during our youth, but every so often, if need be, I play dirty—but only me. I make sure Luca stays on the straight and narrow, and what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him. We’ve branched out to restaurants and larger real estate ventures, currently owning a large portfolio of commercial properties worldwide with three private clubs and more than a dozen hotels. The growth in our company exceeds even our own expectations. I just wish our parents could’ve lived to see us. Then again it took their death to make this possible.
That one sobering fact makes me hate my success all over again. I’d give it all up to have them back.
I take a swig of my drink. The burn helps to quiet the thoughts, and that’s what I need tonight, help from my demons. I keep myself removed and focused on most days. Never shit where you eat…so they say.What a wonderful little colloquialism.I don’t though; it’s only on rare occasions that I find myself willing to enjoy something I own, but after my week I needed to blow off steam in my one of our exclusive clubs, Church.
It’s an unassuming club built inside an elegant, three-story townhome. It’s not just a club, but a sanctuary for those with deviant proclivities. Only members with a key may enter, and that key costs more than most people make in a year.
I fucking love it. The multileveled Gomorrah begins with the main room at the entrance, banked in deep cushioned red velvet walls, with dark leather furniture and the most elaborate chandeliers that hang from the ceiling that captures pictures of debauchery in their crystal beads. It’s decorated as if someone pulled a room right from the 1940s and plopped it into current time. I love the feel, the swankiness, but mostly I love the smell of sex. It’s everywhere; people are desperate for it, and it feeds the beast that is lust.
Leading up and down the stairs are elaborately iron-railed staircases. Wider than normal, they keep the flow of traffic between rooms and add to the elegance of this den of iniquity. Downstairs leads to private rooms, each themed and some custom-made for specific sexual preferences. That’s also where I keep a room for myself. The top floor is a communal room, with public viewing and nudity allowed. There’s a stage in the center for public-viewed spankings and floggings, but the main attraction is the baptismal, the oversized egg-shaped tub that allows for members to watch as women bathe under wanton eyes, with warm jets designed for public masturbation. The room is very low lit and bordered in bed-like benches, encouraging an audience.
I aimed for the main floor to be the tamest of all, a neutral ground of sorts. It’s the foreplay for everywhere else. After entering past the foyer, the room presents as a great room with small conversational seating areas adorned in red velvet club chairs, leather ottomans, and side tables. It’s meant to invite conversations and slightly heavy petting. The mahogany bar runs along the mirrored back wall. It looks like something out of one those old black-and-white movies, elegant and classic.
Each time I find myself here, I’m comforted knowing that whomever I meet is just for tonight. I’m not looking for anything other than someone to help me work out my kinks…so to speak. I’ve never desired any other type of relationship. That’s for my brother; he’s the marrying and kids type. I don’t have anything against it—I love seeing him in that life; he reminds me of our father. Luca got all the good parts, while I inherited all the other parts. I know that I’m too rough around the edges, and frankly, I’ve never met a woman that keeps my attention for longer than one night.
I lean back against the bar and continue to survey the room when I feel a hand trace up my suited arm. “Well, hello again.” I swirl the ice cubes around my tumbler.
“Hello, yourself. Were you going to ignore me all night?” Sarah pretend pouts.
“No need to pout. I hadn’t seen you, but I’m certainly available to you now,” I assure her, turning my body in her direction.
“Good because I need a nice stiff one.” She smiles, batting her lashes at me as I put my drink on the bar.
“Ah, well then I think I can provide just that… Bourbon?” I grin, motioning to the bartender, with one finger.
“Yes, please.” Laughing at our joke, she pushes up to the barstool. “I haven’t seen you around too much lately. Running the world getting busy, huh?”
“Yes. This week, however, has been a nightmare, but the club seems to be running quite well, and I know I have you to thank for that.” I hand her the drink and pick mine back up.
“Just doing my job.” Tipping her drink my way, she gives me a nod.
Sarah took over management of Church after I acquired it three years ago. She has always been my eyes and ears. She started as a shift manager before I saw that she was one of the only people who understood how this club should run. She’s open-minded and driven. I trust her beyond measure, and for a guy like me, loyalty and trust are sacred. She’s also one of the only women I haven’t slept with. She’s here on merit, and I respect her for that.
“Let’s go to the office and run over some notes I have.”
Sarah nods in agreement, and I knock the wooden bar top as a goodbye to the bartender. Making our way to the back offices becomes tricky. We must get stopped five or six times to answer questions before we get back to the office.
“Wow, I didn’t think we would get a minute,” she huffs as she sinks into the leather club chair opposite my desk.
“I like that the club is busy. Works to my benefit.” I give a sly grin.
“True, but I do think we need more security upstairs. Lately there have been a few situations that left me shortchanged and nervous.”
“I’m good with that. Hire what you need—but why wasn’t I emailed about any incidents?” Furrowing my brow, I lean back, waiting for my answer. It better be good because stupidity is not something I will easily forgive.
“Well, because we handled the issue before it even became a solid situation. If I were to email you every petty argument some chick has with her boyfriend over bringing her here, you would never get any of your other work done.”
I can’t help but smile because I know she’s right, but it doesn’t matter my emotional default is control and dominance. “Do us both a favor and just send me a rundown at the end of the week of anything or anyone you believe is becoming problematic. That way I’m off your back, but I stay in the know.” I’m nicer than I would normally be, but I like Sarah, and I believe in her capabilities. She’s like the sister I never wanted. Outside of Luca, she’s the only other person I see on a regular basis.
“Great, consider it done, but can I ask you a question?” I nod my approval. “Are you as involved with all your businesses? Granted you haven’t been around the last few weeks, but I just assumed a guy at the top would have a hundred people I would report to.”
Leaning back into my chair, I cross my arms. “Am I wearing out my welcome already?”
“I apologize, King—no, that’s not what I…”
