Serving Mr. Serrano

The Boys' Club

We start the day at the proving grounds, where after a delicious brunch, we head downstairs to the garage of cars awaiting us. Van Kirk, Rolle and Mammen opted for the super cars, choosing the Mercedes-Benz AMG G63, Lamborghini Urus and Aston Martin Superleggera, respectively. Menga walked over to the rare vintage models, his fingers brushing over the green hood of a 1956 Aston Martin DBR11. My attention is on a rare Lamborghini Veneno, which has been improved and customised according to my exact specifications. Jordan and Khan were discussing the better option between the Dodge Durango and the Corvette C8, both being fans of muscle cars.

We spend the next few hours driving around the track, trying out different makes and models until Ben calls us back to the VIP lounge upstairs for a late lunch. Following that, we're led into a casino room for the usual poker game.

"It won't be long before she's doing all those things to someone else," Van Kirk commented, raising the bet by throwing a hundred thousand chips in the middle of the table.

I decide to fold, since my cards are absolute s**t, and lean back in my chair to take a sip from my glass.

"Why are you always so goddamn pessimistic about these things?" Khan asked beside me.

"Because marriage is a trap. When was the last time you got laid?"

Khan leaned forward in his seat to raise the bet, and effectively ignored Van Kirk's question, refusing to engage in the younger man's game. Van Kirk snorted, satisfied that his point had been made.

"Just because you're always balls-deep in my whores…" I trailed off, sipping from my glass.

He snorted again, then released a large puff of smoke into the air from his cigar. Mammen tossed his cards in the middle of the table for the dealer to collect.

"You can't exactly blame him. Have you seen your girls?” Rolle whistles, matching Khan’s bet.

"They are… quite something," Mammen threw in.

“You’d swear he breeds them somewhere, with the way they look. And they’re very talented too, those girls. Got this one in Nito who could do this trick with a popsicle…"

We all turn to look at Rolle, but he doesn't even notice because his eyes are closed in pleasure, memories of that woman flashing through his mind.

"Every day you stray further and further from Heaven…" I said sadly, lighting a cigarette and inhaling deeply.

"I go to Heaven every time I'm with her. She could tempt a Saint, that woman. With talent like that, who needs a nine-to-five?" Van Kirk confessed, placing his cards on the table. The others groaned, and Sebastian leaned forward to collect his chips.

"You've never f****d any of your girls, Aldine?" Rolle asked, frowning at me with a cigar in his mouth.

Jordan replied, "Serrano has a thing for the famous ones. Pretty sure he's f****d half the actresses, models, philanthropists…"

"Singers, business women, artists…" Menga contributed.

"...in the entire country.”

New hands are dealt, and I’m pleasantly surprised to see I’m holding a pair of aces. I threw in my chips as the small build of this round, and took another sip of my bourbon.

"We should be congratulating Rolle instead of condemning him to a life of infidelity and hatred," Khan said. "Marriage can be a good thing. And it lessens the chances of getting an STD."

“You married men love acting like you’re better than us single guys. You’d think putting a ring on someone’s finger suddenly makes your s**t smell better,” Van Kirk remarks.

Jordan makes a derisive snort. “Oh, please. I’m married and I still f**k around on my wife. I just make sure I do it safely so nobody can ever claim damages at my house.”

“I’m not going to complain,” I said. “After all, it’s men like you who keep my businesses afloat.”

Menga threw me a look, and I grinned in return.

"What happened with you and that heiress? The batshit crazy one with the nice t**s?" Van Kirk asked.

Gabriel actually smirked at the question, and waited for Michael to throw in his chips before doing the same.

"Don't you get tired of 'dating' all these superficial women? They’re only ever with you for the money or the exposure or something.”

I shrugged, sipped my bourbon. “And I’m only with them for the p***y. It’s only fair that they get what they want out of the deal. It’s what’s called a fair exchange,” I said, placing my cards on the table. Full house, which wins me this round.

And so it continues, the demeaning banter and the snide remarks. We skirt well away from business, and by the time the sun sets over the horizon, we're headed to the harbour where my largest yacht, the Serrano S.S. is waiting for us. On board is a skeleton staff to tend to us when necessary, tons of security to keep us safe and hordes of escorts to satisfy whatever sick fantasies these fuckers have.

Percival had chosen the best of my escorts to appeal to everyone's desires. Men and women, tall and short, curvy and slender. All shapes, sizes and colours, simply waiting for the privilege of being chosen to f**k one of The Seven.

Khan, Menga and I stayed at the bar long after the sun had set. Kendrick is the first to tear himself away from our group, claiming hunger. I leave Khan to a bottle of vodka while I explore the party, watching trays of drugs and cocktails being passed around like f*****g candy.

I was a little tipsy myself, so when a redhead and brunette approached me, offering Ecstacy and LSD in exchange for my company, I didn't deny them.

Long, dark hair. Hypnotic, blue eyes. Full, tempting lips. Luscious, sinful curves.

A vibrant, auburn mane. Shimmering, emerald eyes. Gentle, soft fingers. Slender, taut build.

I let them touch me, let them tug on my hand until I stood up and followed them to one of the private booths near the back. I sat down on the deep seat couch, watching them sway their hips to the deafening bass, inching closer until they were shaking their asses in my face.

Then the redhead sat on my lap, facing me. It was impossible not to look into her eyes, not to get harder with every inch of me that she and her friend touched.

It felt strange to have another woman on my lap. I'd been f*****g Eden for more than two glorious months, and the idea of doing to this woman - or any woman - what I do to Eden did not excite me like it used to.

Which irritated the living f**k out of me because she wasn't even speaking to me. She'd been ignoring me all day, no doubt stewing in her disappointment and rage. Likely spending my money in whatever club she and her friends had chosen this time. Or maybe she was at home playing those nonsensical video games she loved so much. But whatever the f**k she was doing, she clearly had no intention of speaking to me.

So instead of removing the gorgeous escort from my lap, I placed one hand on her hip and used the other to pull the brunette closer, kissing her. She moaned, her talons stabbing into my shoulders as she pressed her t**s into my arm.

Fuck.

Should I not just f**k these strangers? Would it not be easier to end my arrangement with Eden before it got more complicated than it already was? To stop her from haunting my thoughts every single second of the day? To prevent her from sneaking past my defences and burrowing right into the centre, only to realise that there was nothing there except a cold expanse where my heart should be?

"We've heard so many things about you," the redhead confessed, grinding on my c**k. She tossed her hair over her shoulder and smiled down at me as if she knew all my little secrets.

"Like what?"

My hand moved instinctively to her ass, squeezing. She responded by smiling down at me, clearly pleased that I was giving in to her charms.

"That you're a very generous man, with a huge c**k," the brunette said, removing her bra.

"Is that right?" I asked, dropping my gaze to her bare t**s, my mouth watering at the sight of her dark n*****s.

"Mm-hmm. But we're sceptical women, Mr. Serrano."

"Get on your knees, and we'll see if I live up to the stories."

They both hurried to obey me, and I looked down at both of them while their fingers unbuckled my belt, lowering my zip.

"I've noticed how excited you get when I test your patience. I think you like that, because it gives you a reason to lose yourself in your own madness, to let the demons you try to keep hidden come out to play."

I heard Eden's honeyed, distant voice over the pounding music, the intoxicating drugs, the expensive liquor, the raging lust…

"And it's addictive, isn't it? f*****g someone who not only recognises and appreciates your depravity, but encourages you to delve even deeper into that tempting abyss?"

I closed my eyes, leaned back against the back of the seat. I pressed my palms to my eyes, trying to rub away the fog of lust induced by the drugs, the alcohol and my longing for Eden. I groaned when one of them wrapped a hand around my d**k.

"Oh, my God."

The reaction, though genuine, did nothing for me. If anything, I ignored them both and thought back to the first time Eden had seen my c**k. How she had licked her lips with anticipation, her gaze sweeping up the length of my body to lock with mine. A glistening drop of pre-c*m leaked from the head at the thought of how her hand had felt wrapped around my c**k, and I almost f*****g came when I recalled how she'd grinned wickedly at me.

But when I opened my eyes and saw these women… these complete strangers with their mediocre eyes and dyed hair, I felt a crushing disappointment.

So I reached for the redhead's hands, gently but firmly removing them from my length. I rose from my seat on the couch, pulling up the zip and buckling my belt. Then I dug into my pocket, removed several hundreds of cromas and divided them equally between them. The brunette blinked up at me, her hand lifting almost reluctantly to the cash I held out.

"I guess the rumours were right on both accounts," she said, reaching for her bra.

The redhead confessed, "But I won't say I'm not disappointed."

"Sorry. I'm just not in the mood."

I turned and walked away before I weakened, marching past the writhing bodies everywhere, ignoring the hands that grabbed for me, trying to tear my clothes off. Only when I reached the door to my cabin did I draw in a breath. I am not surprised to see Ben peel out of the darkness to hand me my phone.

"Do you always skulk around in the shadows?" I asked him, accepting the device.

"You pay me to skulk around. How else would I protect you, or gather valuable intel?" he replied, his expression ever blank.

I shrugged, silently ceding his point.

"Thank you, Ben."

He stepped back with a polite nod, and opened the cabin door for me to stumble through. Ben waited until I was safely inside to close the door and lock it. I imagined him stepping back into the shadows once more, leaving me to endure the drugs and liquor alone.

I unlocked my phone and checked my notifications.

Fourteen SMS's.

Twenty-three missed calls.

Fifty-eight texts.

But none of them were from Eden.

Annoyed, I threw the phone on the bedside cabinet and dragged my feet to the bathroom. After a cold shower, I got in bed and prayed for sleep.

But it refused to come.

***

The meeting, as expected, is a disaster.

Nobody will stop talking long enough to listen to the others, and everyone is so f*****g defensive about their territory that asking a simple question is interpreted as a direct attack.

"Really? Let's not forget that New Haven is a logistics powerhouse. You're the one with the manpower and resources to safely ship those women-"

"I'm sorry, does your city not have harbours? Ports? Do you not have resources to do the exact thing you're accusing me of right now?" Rolle threw back, glaring at Van Kirk.

Khan sighed and said, "This is getting us nowhere. Pointing fingers at each other is regressive, and we can't work on solutions if we're just going to argue with each other."

Mammen scoffed, and threw that ominously dark gaze at Khan.

"Solutions? You cannot seriously be that naive, Khan. Whoever is involved with this Malice creature is breaking The Code. Nobody would ever willingly admit to being a part of that, because they know how severe the punishment would be."

"I'm not stupid, Mammen. Nor am I naive. I believe that talking about this like rational adults would be more advantageous. Instead, we're all bickering like a bunch of schoolchildren."

Jordan raised his hand in agreement, then turned to look at me.

"Exactly. Nor should we have wasted an entire weekend doing drugs and racing cars when our time and attention should have been on the business at hand."

"You f****d six of my escorts and snorted half the coke by yourself. And you made it very clear you didn't even want to attend the sit-down from the start. Do not point your f*****g finger at me, Jordan."

And it continued, with each of us pairing off with a new opponent every few minutes. Accusations are loosely thrown about, malicious threats uttered - until finally…

"That's enough." Menga said, rising from his seat. We all turned to look at him, silence filling the room.

"We came here for a sit-down. Not a wrestling match. You're all so busy measuring d***s that you're forgetting we're here to talk strategy."

He sat back down, elbows propped on the table. Menga steepled his fingers together and took a deep breath, releasing it slowly.

"I know we're all a bit tense, especially with the threat Malice represents. But we cannot argue amongst ourselves like this. We should, as Khan said, be working on solutions."

His gaze darted between all of us, as if waiting for one of us to argue against him. When nobody said anything, he nodded.

"What do we know about this guy?" he asked, opening up the discussion to everyone in the room.

"We know he's been targeting each of our territories, and stealing stock or cash to fund his operation. I was the first to get hit, and they took a lot of women off my streets before they branched out to the other territories," I explained. "We also know that he has spies in our organisations, people he's either bribed or blackmailed to get what he wants."

"We also know that nobody has seen his face and lived. His identity seems to be a huge f*****g deal," Van Kirk threw in.

"He could literally be anyone. He could be some random homeless man, CEO of a conglomerate, a f*****g schoolteacher. Maybe even one of us," Rolle mused.

"We need to be careful about this. If he can buy our people, then there is no telling what else he could do. Who is to say he has not bugged our houses? Is not listening in on our private conversations?"

This from Khan, which earned a nod from Jordan and Rolle.

"ISA agents, politicians, law enforcement… He knows precisely which palms to grease, which means he knows exactly how to play this game. I fear that means he's more of a threat to us than we first realised. If I'm correct in my assumption, then this Malice isn't just using us for resources. I believe he may be trying to obliterate The Seven."

Nobody speaks after, as we all process the truth of his words. It's not that the thought hadn't crossed my mind, of course, but I couldn't shrug off the idea that Malice had it in for me personally. It's kept me up some of these last few nights, the thought of this unknown threat having it out for me.

But it was just a hunch.

One I couldn't even prove now that he'd branched out to other territories. Which should have been a good thing, especially since our combined resources would help locate him sooner. Unless someone here is aiding Malice. Or someones.

But the question was who?

I was a likely suspect, since all this s**t had started in Tunyi. Not to mention that three of my highest ranked lieutenants were deeply involved with Malice, that the politicians and officials who've been paid off belonged to me.

Then Menga, who had been in the game longer than any of us and had access to more contacts underground than we did. He could easily start up an operation like this, would easily think up the idea to fund it using stolen resources.

Khan was methodically ruthless, despite his calm demeanour. It would take someone who could think several steps ahead of their opponent to accomplish everything Malice had, and strategy was one of Khan's best skills.

Also, the person involved would have to be very well connected. Mercenaries and weapons were just the tip of a very large iceberg. Knowing who to target in each of our organisations was impressive, especially since they knew exactly which buttons to push to make them turn. Rolle had always emphasised that information was king.

And we may be horrible people who kill and steal to our heart's content, but human trafficking has been outlawed for a reason. It was an inhumane crime that went against everything some of us stood for. I knew Van Kirk didn't have the same moral code as some of us. He was a cunning, heartless son of a b***h. Always had been.

But only Mammen would be able to build up an operation like this and keep it hidden from everyone. He had done it before, securing deals and making power moves without any of us knowing. And the media didn't even know who the f**k he was, didn't really know if he even existed.

And Jordan… He had the ports, the money, the influence and the power to crush anyone and anything who might stand in his way. He was always fighting for more power, and had made his opinions on The Code clear. If he could openly object to the very thing that governed our actions, what would stop him from doing this?

Everyone was a suspect.

And Mammen was right. Nobody in their right mind would dare step forward and admit to being part of this. Breaking The Code meant having your position taken from you, your powers stripped and your throat slit. I'd seen it done before, and I knew how dangerous an act like that could be for the rest of us. But it had to be done. We couldn't be exempt from everyone else.

"We need to at least devise a plan to flush him out. Perhaps setting a trap to-"

"Well, that's not going to work now that you've said it out loud," Van Kirk said, cutting Menga off. "We all know the fuckers helping this Malice person are sitting in this room. My question is, which of you is it?"

The tension that filled the room is a palpable, living thing. I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose in exasperation.

I can't believe I blew off Eden for this s**t.

"Maybe Serrano should tell us. He called this meeting, didn't he?"

"I did, yes. But I'm starting to realise it was a waste of f*****g time. None of you even wanted to come, and you're sure as s**t not going to reveal any new information that might help in tracking Malice down."

Another silence, this one more intense than the last. I was about to stand, about to adjourn the meeting and walk out of the f*****g room when Rolle spoke.

"I think we're going about this the wrong way."

"By all means, please tell us what to do? It's not as if we have decades of experience running our syndicates," Jordan mumbled, arching a brow.

"We can't trace him here, but surely we can find the people he's selling to and cut them out of the equation?" Rolle asked, leaning forward.

Mammen scoffed, but he said nothing.

"That'll take months. And by the time we figure out who they're selling to, we'll have a war on our hands. The ISA will have thrown us all in jail and the country will be demanding our heads on platters," Khan replied.

"Actually," I began. "That's not a horrible idea. We're all stretched thin because we're applying our resources to every aspect of Malice's operation. But if we can split the tasks among us, it should make it easier."

And finding Malice's accomplices won't be as difficult.

"Mammen, you have international connections. Could you find these guys?" Menga asked, catching on.

"Yes. But I think-"

"Then do it," Menga said. "Find out who Malice is selling these women to and how. Khan, you figure out how they're getting them out of the country without being flagged. Rolle, you focus your resources here. Find out where the girls are being kept before they're shipped. Serrano, you figure out who is giving them information, weapons and mercs. Jordan, find out what the ISA knows and who's running the case. Van Kirk, it'll be your responsibility to find out who they sell all the stock to. It should be easier to follow up from there. I will reach out to my contacts underground and follow the money trail from the people he's paid off."

It's obvious from the silence that nobody is pleased with the tasks they've been handed, but perhaps that's the point. Menga knew I'd do best finding out what the ISA had, and had instead given me the one thing I would struggle with.

"Is there anything else you gentlemen would like to add? Confessions, information? Because if certain details come out later, I'm going to take it as an omission of truth. Nobody will be spared. Nobody."

We all regarded each other quietly, weighing one another up as we considered the possibilities.

"Understood," I said, standing up. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have duties to tend to."

Everyone followed suit in their own time, rising from their chairs as I button my suit jacket.

We do not shake hands.

We do not exchange pleasantries.

One by one, they file out of the room until I am left alone with Mammen. He had his gaze on the table, as though he were deep in thought.

Then he said, "You're distracted lately, Serrano."

"I am?" I asked, hiding my irritation.

His almost onyx gaze shifted to me, and he stared. Stared for so long it almost made me uncomfortable. Which didn't happen easily, mind you. I met his gaze, and we both glared at each other for long minutes.

"I would be too, if I had a beautiful woman like Eden Conteh in my bed."

That her name is coming out of Mammen's mouth pisses me off to no end. That he would mention her at all infuriates me. I can't even keep from reacting, because I know exactly what the f**k he's doing.

I took two steps to my left, around the table, which brought me into Mammen's space. He stood up straighter, his fingers flexing at his sides. But I had no intention of striking out physically. So instead, I said, "If you come near her, I will skin you alive inch by inch with a very blunt, very rusty knife. Then I will cut off each of your limbs until you're nothing but a writhing torso. And I will keep you alive just long enough to then toss you in a hole of crocodiles. Her name does not ever come out of your mouth again."

He would smile, the fucker, if he was capable of it. But he just tilted his head to the side, as though curious about my response.

"So it is serious."

I said nothing.

But he already knew everything he needed to at this point.

"I will advise you to keep her very well hidden from the others. As it were, you've been very reckless. Should they find out about her, you know they'll come after her."

"Did your associate Jeffrey Black tell you that?"

Now he does smile.

It's an eerie sight. Almost creepy.

"They used to f**k, you know. Years ago. Black actually proposed to her at some point. Thought himself in love. She shared so many intimate details of her life with him. Like where she grew up, who her parents are, why she's in hiding. Maybe, if you ask nicely, I'll share those details with you as well."

Who her parents are? In hiding?

I knew he was just trying to rile me up.

And it was working.

Not because Eden had a relationship with Black. I knew who she was and was well aware of her occupation, so I couldn't exactly feign shock at discovering she's been around some big players. I was pissed because she had trusted him enough to share her past and her experiences with him.

I frowned, taken aback by how… hurt I was.

Satisfied that he'd managed to shake me, Mammen let out a pleased sigh and walked past me to the door. He didn't say anything else, and left me alone to my musings.

Fuck.

"Sir?"

I glanced over my shoulder at Ben, who stood with his hands clasped in front of him. He was watching me with a curious look on his face, something akin to actual concern.

"Shall I call Ms. Conteh, sir?"

"Are there…" I trailed off, and began again. "What did you find out about her relationship with Jeffrey Black?"

"I have prepared a file. Would you like to read it on the way to the airport?"

I frowned, turned around.

"Now that your business is concluded, I thought you'd like to make good on your promise to Ms. Conteh and take her to Cape Town. You both deserve some time away," Ben suggested.

My eyes narrowed, and I waited for him to tell me the real reason he wanted me and Eden gone.

"It will give us ample time to properly search Ms. Conteh's apartment. Sir."

I rubbed both hands over my face, then raked them roughly through my hair and cursed in every f*****g language I could speak in.

"Is it that bad?"

"Your bags have been packed and Stephen has the plane ready. Ms. Conteh can follow in a day or two-"

"She won't come. Not after I cancelled. She'll want to see me in person."

"I'll let James know, and we'll be on the road as soon as I clear-"

"I'll go alone. Give me the keys to the Divo."

His jaw clenched, his eyes darkened.

"Dominic, she cannot be trusted. Give us-"

"Now, Ben."

He took a step forward, removing a set of keys from his pocket. He glares at me with those weird blueish eyes of his like a mother f*****g hen before he places them on my palm.

"Don't drive into traffic."

"Jesus, you're worse than my f*****g mother. Get everything ready at the airfield. We'll be there in two hours."

A frown, then a roll of his eyes as realisation dawns. I'm almost to the door when I hear him mutter, "Like a pair of s*x-crazed bonobos."