Page 1 of The Boss
Chapter One
“Did you fucking hear a word I said?”
Conall shielded his eyes from the glare of the sun and glanced at his brother, who towered over his reclined position. He currently lay on one of the lounges near the pool, shirtless and drying from his recent dip. He grinned, cocking his head.
“You said something about the boss coming. Which whore is he currently coming inside of?”
“Jesus Christ, Conall. Get the fuck up, you lazy bastard.” The angrier Terrance got, the thicker his Irish accent became, the word “fuck” sounding more like “fook.” His brother’s pale face flushed an ugly red, almost as crimson as the hair on his head, and his emerald gaze grew angry.
“Why?” Conall shrugged, dragging his sunglasses down his nose with his forefinger so he could look at his brother over the top of them. “What’s that got to do with me anyway?”
“Are you fucking stupid? When I say boss, I’m not talking about O’Riley. I’m talking about the big boss. Killough.”
The name penetrated Conall’s sun-soaked brain and he shot off the lounge to his feet. “Wait. Sloan Killough? The fucking mob boss?”
“Why do you think I need you off your arse? He’ll be here in the hour.” He grabbed Conall’s towel and threw it at his chest. “Get showered and dressed. Make sure the whores are presentable. He’s coming for one of two reasons—for a hole or our heads.”
“Why the hell would he come for our heads?”
“Because, dumbarse, this establishment hasn’t been making as much money as Hell’s Kitchen. They’ve been makin’ a killin’. Leenock told me how much he’s been earning the boss and it’s nearly triple. We’re in trouble, Conall.”
It was the first time since taking over the whorehouse that Conall saw his brother anxious. Terrance’s cool attitude was what got them the Exotic Virtue in the first place, and working with the mob came with problems, but Terrance handled them while Conall did what he was good at: living in luxury. He hadn’t seen his brother this concerned until now.
“If they had an issue with money, Rafferty would have brought it up before,” Conall said, though his voice wavered with uncertainty.
“Rafferty’s just a pawn. He’s not even a general.” Terrance shook his head, running his hands through his bright hair. “I asked him why the boss was heading here, he didn’t know. Just said he got a call from one of the higher-ups.”
“Then why the fuck are we standing here talking? What do you need me to do?”
“Get dressed. Preferably in a suit, all right? Warn the whores and tell them to get ready. I don’t give a flying fuck if they have a client. We’ll compensate them. I want all the whores in the foyer to greet him. If the boss wants a hole, he gets any choice he desires.” Terrance glared at him. “Don’t be a smartarse to him, all right?”
“Me, a smartarse?” Conall grinned. “When am I ever a smartarse?”
“When are you not?” He waved his hand. “Get.”
Conall slapped his brother on the arm and threw the towel over his shoulder. He sauntered into the building and headed toward his room. The hallways of the Exotic Virtue were long and luxurious, with high ceilings and elegant gold chandeliers that hung from white paneling. The lush carpet floors were a rich red, lined with gold trimmings, and they matched the dark beige walls. It was a home away from home for most of their clients, but for Conall and Terrance, itwastheir home. Terrance was the provocateur of the brothel, with Conall as his partner in crime. But while they ran it, it belonged to the Killough Company, also known as the Killough mob.
He stopped Alice as she ambled past with a client. With a smile to the older white-haired gentleman beside her—an affluential politician, if he remembered correctly—he tugged the whore closer and whispered in her ear, “If he’s done, send him on his way. We have a high player heading to the Virtue and we need everyone at the entrance to greet him.”
“What about the other clients?” she asked with a roll of her eyes. “Tim pays a lot of money for me and he’s not done. He wants to take a dip in the pool.”
“I wouldn’t give a shit if he was the Pope. Get rid of him. Offer him a free hour next time he comes.” Conall’s lips twisted in a sardonic smile. “No pun intended.”
Alice’s eyes narrowed and she huffed, spinning on her high heels and storming toward her client, who had stopped halfway down the hall. She said something to him, and his narrow face twisted in annoyance. He glanced at Conall, glaring.
Conall knew when he needed to douse a fire, so he smiled charmingly at the politician. The last thing they needed was to be on this man’s bad side. He strode closer, still shirtless and in his swimming trunks, and held out his hand.
“I don’t think we’ve been introduced. I’m Conall Morrissey, co-provocateur of the Exotic Virtue. You don’t need to tell me your name. I’ll call you John.” He let his hand fall when the politician glared at it. “I do apologize for your session with Alice being cut short, but we have a VIP heading our way.”
“And I’m not VIP?” ‘John’ snapped. He wrapped his arm around Alice’s wrist and tugged her closer, hand on her hip. His hold must have been tight, because she flinched.
“You are in your own right.” Conall crossed his arms and nodded to his hand. “Please remove your grip from my property or we’ll remove you from these premises.”
John blinked, his gaze shooting to his own hand, and he released her. He straightened, his lips pursed. His dark gray hair looked slimy with product under the soft lights of the hallway, and he had used so much of it that the acidy scent burned Conall’s nose, even with the distance between them. He wasn’t a handsome man, but a smarmy-looking bug that someone would want to squish beneath their shoe. A lot of politicians like John came in and used their whores.
“Thank you. As I was saying, John, this VIP is the owner of our…business, and he expects every employee to be there. He very rarely visits, and we need our workers to greet him.” Conall smiled politely, fighting back the urge to glare at him. “You will be compensated with an hour free with Alice—”
“Two,” John growled, holding up two bony fingers in Conall’s face. “I want two hours free.”
