Page 18 of Duchess

I nodded. “Probably. I spotted a couple Cyclone Roadsters, some Ducati, a StreetFighter.”

She turned to me. “That bike goes for nearly eleven mil!”

“I told you. It's a lot of money. Whatever we sell, we get a cut.”

“How the fuck did he get his hands on those?”

“Alan moved shipments for the Turks. I’m assuming their connections were used. All I know is he has that stolen product which is probably why they put a bullet in him. And I’m next if they find out I know where it is and haven’t handed it back to them.”

“If I do help you, what’s to say they won’t put a bullet in me?”

“I can't guarantee your safety, Rhea. But I can make you disappear after.”

“This is beyond…”

“Crazy, I know. Listen, I’m good with money, Rhea. And Obsidian is amazing at what she does in hacking systems. She could give us a whole new identity. A whole new life.”

“Who says I need that, Stephanie?”

“You will if you want to ride with me.”

She stopped pacing and looked down at me. “Ride?”

“I’ve been thinking about this for a long time. You remember the Royal Harlots?”

She smiled. “The club name we’d chosen to use. Yeah, I remember it.”

“I’m doing it, Rhea. I’m gonna build the club and I want you to be my VP in all this.”

“Are you crazy?”

“You know you’re not the first one to ask me that in the last twenty-four hours.”

“You’re going from the Mafia to God knows what type of business…”

“I haven’t figured that one out just yet.”

“Ha!” She guffawed, raising her arms in exasperation. She shook her head. “I can’t do this. You need to leave now.”

I leapt out of the seat and rushed over to her. “Come on, Rhea. This can’t be all you want in life?”

“It’s what makes me money.”

“We can have so much more,” I whispered to her, almost begging her.

“Why me?”

“Because you’re the only person in this world who had my back once. The only person I fucking trust with my life. I was just too stupid to see it and I fucked up. I'm here to make amends.”

“Your father is going to flip the fuck out when he realizes his daughter created a motorcycle club.”

I moved my head side to side in agreement. “He may, and the Harlots may just look like a means to escape, but it’s not. We’ll make our world. Either way, I need a business and I need your business ideas.”

“Bitch, is that all you want from me?”

“You’ve got the business mentality; I’ve got the numbers. What more can you ask for?”

“First, what are we going to do with that shipment?”

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