Page 15 of Bossy Ex's Brother

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” he warned in a calm tone that was somehow just as threatening as the growl.

The man looked between all of us, then backed down and threw his hands up.

“I don’t fucking need this,” he exclaimed, likely to save face, and stalked off. The rest of the men, after sighting Luca, quickly either averted their gazes or left too.

Which made my sister even angrier.

But better angry and safe.

SIX

LUCA

“Where have you been?” Brandon yelled over the music when I walked back into the bar. The party was in full blast, and we were at capacity, but I still slipped onto a stool at the bar. The noise was somewhat irritating, but I’d gotten used to it long ago. I could drown it out effortlessly now.

I didn’t answer and simply gestured for Brandon to pour me the usual. He did, sliding it over. I took a large gulp of it and then analyzed the crowd. The place was packed as it usually was on a Saturday night. I recognized some regulars, but there were a few people who were likely newbies. A pretty brunette caught my eye and winked, clearly signaling interest, but I couldn’t even work up the urge to feign interest. As much as I loved meaningless monkey sex with faceless women as much as the next man, this night had already been eventful enough. Or maybe I was getting old because right now, I would take a good night’s sleep over nailing a random chick.

Or maybe it just depended on the chick, a traitorous voice whispered, but I refused to think about it.

“Slow night,” I commented as I looked around.

“Yeah,” he agreed. “But it’s good since we still haven’t found a new floor manager yet.”

Shit, I forgot about that.The previous floor manager had just been fired a few days ago because we got a complaint from one of our dancers who he tried to extort. Skeevy bastard. He was lucky I just let my men beat on him before sending him packing.

We fired the previous one after we found out he tried to subtly upcharge the rooms so he could skim a thousand dollars off the top. He’d gotten a good beating for his efforts, too, not necessarily because the theft hurt my pockets. There were millions more where that came from. And I wasn’t hypocritical enough to be too offended that someone stole from me.

But at the end of the day, I had to make a point and teach a lesson. I couldn’t show any signs of weakness.

And truly, he was lucky he left with his life.

The manager before that quit because the pressure of it all was just too much. I didn’t blame the guy. Before I became don, I managed one of the bars, and I knew the shit wasn’t for the faint of heart.

I sighed. He was the best guy we’d had so far, and now I needed to go through several rounds of interviews to find his replacement. On top of everything else that I needed to fucking do. There were already applications on my desk that I had yet to even glance at. And it was difficult to find top candidates, seeing as how we had built something of a reputation for beating up our floor managers.

Fuck, this was going to be a nightmare.

But, downing the rest of my brandy, I figured it was a nightmare that I could deal with tomorrow.For tonight, there was something I had to do.

I got up and headed out of the bar. I needed to get some rest.

I rapped on the door,waiting a few seconds before I heard the footsteps approaching.

“Who is it?” my mother called out, even though she knew there was only one person who could be visiting her this late at night. She’d invited me to dinner, but I couldn’t make it on time due to the shit show that was today. And now I had to apologize for that.

“Me,” I said and heard her pause. The door rattled a little bit before she pulled it open, frowning at me in deeply displeased silence.

Even though I was already forty-five years old, that look made me feel like I was a teenager again, sneaking out of school so I could go sell car parts and bring home the money to pay our rent. I remembered the first time I did that—bringing the money I made over to her. I was so happy because I’d been able to get enough for our rent, which meant we wouldn’t get kicked out on the street again.

But then my mother was furious. Especially after she made me confess exactly how I acquired those car parts.

“A thief!” she’d screamed, searching for her switch. “Madonna! I have birthed a thief.”

She swore she would beat the thievery out of me that night, and only some fast talking on my part saved my ass, literally.

The incident opened my eyes to just how far my mother’s morality stretched. I kept stealing but got more clever about hiding it from her.

But I wasn’t clever enough.

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