Page 11 of Tech

News flash, it failed.

I sigh. "I think he just knows who he wants for his dad, brother. Maybe he can sense you are uncomfortable with women continuously throwing themselves at you. Maybe he knows you don't share a connection with the women you see. I don't know, but we'll figure it out."

He sighs. "Alright, brother, I appreciate it; I need all the help I can get with him right now…. Why'd you call?"

I wince. "I uh, fuck, brother…. I just wanted to call because the books are off again."

He groans. "Please tell me the new hire, Missy, is not stealing from us?"

I grunt, running a hand through my scruffy blond hair, and say, "She is. I've gone through the books, and it doesn't add up. Since she's started working for us, we're down eight grand."

He curses, then replies, "I'll deal with it after I've tried to sort this mess out. The fucking woman went nuts and started throwing plates and shit. This café is never going to let us come back."

I grin. "Is it bad that I really wanted to fucking see that."

He chuckles cockily. "No, it’s not, because it was fucking funny."

I laugh. "Alright…. How about I go through the cameras for video proof so we can terminate her contract, and you can focus on the damages at the café? If anyone else is involved, I'll let you know. I'll get Tats to help."

"That is the best thing you've said all week, brother. Talk to you later."

With that, he hangs up, and I shake my head.

I don't know who I feel sorry for more, Breaker having to deal with this shit or the woman he finally calls his.

Chuckling, I quickly message Tats to let him know and to be on standby in case she's working with anyone, before I turn on my monitor. Logging in, I find the feeds from the club and bring up the files.

Eighty-nine videos. Fuck.

Sighing, I sit back and start the first one, scanning through the videos from behind the bar, the hallway to the offices, and then the offices themselves.

Three hours later, I finally found what I needed to terminate her contract. She didn't do it all at once—a little here and there from the till. When she serves someone a drink, she'll keep half of what the customer paid.

For a month, Missy begged to be put on the stage, needing more money, and a part of me felt bad for her. She's struggling to make ends meet, but she gets paid a healthy amount of money, and stealing from someone who helped you isn't okay, especially when she had no references. I've triple-checked the files and her phone, and it looks like she was working on her own.

After not getting caught the first month, she got cocky, which is why she'd follow whoever was doing the petty cash into the office, and 'help' log it. She took over a grand each time.

After downloading the files, I send them and the termination of her contract documents to our lawyer for him to sort out before her shift tomorrow.

She'll have exactly five days to pay back what she stole, or we'll press charges.

In an ideal world, killing her would be better for us as a club than this hassle, but she is part of a large, well-known family who is connected to the mayor, which means we need to take the legal route. Her parents are obviously unaware of where she worked; they wanted her to gain experience so they cut her off, not thinking she'd start at a strip club.

Pretty sure she did it to piss off Daddy, and well, it looks like it's about to work because either she pays back the eight grand, or her daddy has to; otherwise, his precious daughter will end up behind bars.

Now, that would be fun to see.

Shutting my system down, I lean back in my chair, stretching my arms over my head, feeling fucking drained. I'm hungry as fuck, but I also want to get my dick wet. It's been a few days since I had Crystal, a clubwhore, bent over my desk as my cock thrusted in and out of her cunt, my fingers hooked inside her ass, while she ate Diamond out like she was starving.

Fuck, just the thought of that makes my cock harder in my jeans, and I squeeze it to relieve the pressure.

"Food or a fuck…" I murmur, tapping my finger on my desk.

Hmmm.

As I'm debating my choice, my phone pings, and I sigh, grabbing it, hoping it's not club business. When I see who the message is from and groan.

Faith: Baby, I miss you. It's been years, so just give me a chance. I'm at Devil's Rose bar, come and speak to me or I'll show up at the club and let the brothers know you've fucked me since I got banned xx.

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