Page 1 of King of the Bronx

Chapter One

Raven

I knew something was wrong the moment I put my key into the lock of the front door. It was dead silent on the other side. Usually at least a couple of the girls were awake by now, getting ready for the long night ahead. The door creaked as I opened it. As I took a step inside, glass crunched under my boots. I followed the trail of glass to a broken vase a couple feet in front of me. The front desk was in complete havoc. Papers were flung everywhere, and the few decorations I had were now laying on the floor in pieces. The couch, where men waited for their turn, was flipped upside down. The pillows were thrown astray. I shut the door behind me and continued into the room. All the girls’ rooms were upstairs except for Natalie’s room, which was to the left of the welcome desk. I turned to run up the flight of stairs to check on the girls when he came around the corner.

“I was wondering when you’d show up.” His voice sent chills down my spine. I snapped my eyes shut, hoping this was all a bad nightmare and he would disappear. “Turn around, beautiful. I want to see that face.”

My stomach turned, but I did as he asked. The Irish solider stood a few inches taller than me. His arms were covered in thick black hair, and his gut protruded over his belt buckle. He looked like our average client. He ran a hand over his greasy beard.

“You’re late on your payment,” he said, taking a step closer to me. I took a step back and he paused.

“Don’t be scared, Princess, I—”

“Where are my girls?” I snapped, cutting him off. There wasn’t any noise coming from upstairs, and that’s what scared me the most. I’d vowed to keep the girls at the house safe and so far, I was doing a shitty job at it.

“The girls are fine. I took one for myself, but the rest are upstairs being good little whores.”

I squeezed my eyes shut again, willing the tears away. I didn’t want to guess which girl he had taken for himself. Just because they worked in a brothel, everyone treated them like they weren’t human.

When I opened my eyes again, I jumped at how close he stood next to me. I squared my shoulders, trying to appear strong. This man wanted me to be scared of him, but I couldn’t give him that satisfaction. He reached his hand out, almost like he wanted to tuck a loose strain of hair behind my ear. I quickly slapped his hand away. His yellowing teeth showed as he smiled.

“I like when they fight back. Gives me more of a challenge.”

“I’ll have the money next week,” I said. Anything to get this fucker out of the house. I needed to check on my girls. The silence from the floor above us was louder than the man’s voice.

“You said that last week and guess what? No money.”

He was right. The brothel wasn’t exactly doing as well as I thought it would. Not when I refused to cut the girls’ pay. They were the ones doing all the hard work. I wasn’t going to be like other owners in the area and degrade the women. I’d been in the same situation before once in my life.

“I will have it this time,” I gritted out between clenched teeth.

“You know there is another way to pay,” he said, taking a step closer. He smelled like garlic and grease. “You could earn at least half of the payment.”

My stomach turned, and I thought I was going to be sick. I tried to step back but hit the bottom of the stairs.

“Tell Niall to give me another week. I’ll bring the money personally to him,” I said, even though the thought of walking into the Irish bar terrified me. I had to keep the Irish away from my brothel. I hated when they showed up like this. If I’d known when I took over the brothel that the Irish were involved, I would have never considered it. I wish I could go back in time and fix my stupid mistake.

“You know, if you’d just let us sell some of your whores, it would cut down your loan by—”

“No,” I snapped. It was sick to think about the things men like this did to women. Human trafficking was one of their main sources of income. I wanted nothing to do with it. They’d offered me a position multiple times to oversee the sex trade, but that was too repulsive and low. Even for me.

“Looks like you have bit of a soft spot for your whores, don’t you?” He was teasing me like a lion playing with his food before eating it.

“Looks like you have a soft spot for women who’d rather choke on their own vomit than sleep with you.”

His teasing smile dropped, and his eyes turned dark. His hand smacked against my face so fast, I barely had time to register the pain. My legs gave out, and my back hit the bottom step on the way down.

“One month. Niall is feeling particularly generous. If I come back, we will take all your whores and sell them across the ocean, including you, to men who make me look like a saint.”

The tears threatened to spill from my eyes, but I kept it together, not wanting this man to see me weak. Men like him didn’t deserve my tears. He kicked a piece of glass before turning around and walking toward the door.

“You should probably get this place cleaned up too. It’s not a good look.”

He left out the door, and as soon as it shut, I allowed the tears to roll down my cheek. I’d give myself five minutes—that’s all—and then I needed to handle business. I hiccupped as I cried, all the emotion coming out like a tsunami that had been held back by a dam. My cheek burned from his slap, and I knew there was probably a bright red mark across my face. I hated the Irish more than anything else. They were terrible people who got off on threatening the small Irish community. I wiped my face after a moment and stood. I readjusted my T-shirt and ripped jeans, hoping to regain my composure before facing the girls. The women in my brothel had gone through enough in their life, and guilt swirled in my stomach at the thought of putting them through more trauma.

I climbed the wooden steps to the top floor. It was hotter up here than the rest of the building. Ten bedrooms were upstairs, and none of them had doors, just a sheet that hung over the doorway. If a man got too handsy, I wanted to make sure the other girls could hear it. This also made sure he wouldn’t try to lock the door.

“He’s gone,” I said to the empty hallway. The women came out of their rooms and instantly gravitated to me.

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