Total pages in book: 120
Estimated words: 121946 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 610(@200wpm)___ 488(@250wpm)___ 406(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 121946 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 610(@200wpm)___ 488(@250wpm)___ 406(@300wpm)
“Nice try, Aldridge.” He settles in the chair, feet still kicked up. “Want to talk about the girl?”
“We aren’t women, Cyrus. I appreciate your concern, but enough of this pussy pillow talk shit.”
“Fine, then let’s talk money.” He straightens, lowering his feet, all business now. “Tobias is on my ass. He wants to know how much he’s got.”
“I’ll get him the figures this week.”
“He wants the figures now.” His voice is calm and steady as if he’s not commanding me to do something, but there’s a threat beneath it all.
There is always a threat with Cyrus Reed.
If I were anyone else, I might fidget under his weighted stare.
“What’s the rush?”
“I think he’s done,” Cyrus declares, and I swear, you could hear a pin drop. “I think he’s finishing the remaining shipments he’s got en route, and then he wants out.”
I lean forward against my desk. “Really?”
“Not sure. He was on the cryptic side. Per usual. But yeah, he wants to know how much money he’s got. Think he’s trying to see if it’s enough to retire.” He shakes his head. He knows as well as I do, there is no real retiring from this business.
“He’s worth over seven hundred million. How much more does he need?” I grin.
Greedy bastard.
“Enough to never have to work again and afford his security.”
No truer words have ever been spoken because that’s the truth.
It doesn’t matter if we are legit or out. We all will need security for the rest of our lives.
We have made too much money off the backs of others.
We have ruined and screwed too many bad men.
Men worse than us were sunk below for our rise to the top.
So, even though most of my clients are already semi-retired from whatever they did to become so powerful, there will always be a mark on their backs.
You don’t rule the underworld, leave, and suddenly go back to living a regular charmed life with a white picket fence and a golden retriever more accustomed to greeting the mailman than biting him.
We all still have one foot in the door.
Legit or not.
Well, at least they do.
Me, I’m still all in.
I still work with men who run the mob, drug empires, etc.
And because of that, I need ways to make them money. Sometimes, it’s just a way to clean the dirt from it. Other times, it serves a bigger purpose, and I need to find riskier investments that pay more.
Take my latest scheme.
I am about to short Torenzo Corp, a stock we all have been priming for the kill.
Due to a certain health code violation about to become public record, the stock will plummet, and we’re set to make a huge fortune.
The assholes who own it won’t know what hit them.
It’s going to be fucking fantastic.
The best part is, Lorenzo will get his revenge, and in the meantime, until he does, my clients will earn a windfall.
Now, we just got to sit back and wait for the article I carefully placed to hit social media.
“I anticipate, by the end of the day, with the amount Tobias has in, he will be worth nine hundred million. Is that enough for him to retire?”
“Make him a billionaire, and I’m sure the answer will be yes.” His voice is serious, but I still let out a chuckle.
These bastards and their money.
I’m not one to talk, but fuck. I would be happy with that gain.
Since Tobias came onboard, I have gotten him a return on his investment north of two hundred percent.
Again . . . Greedy bastards.
“You’re a tough man to please, Cyrus.”
“Good thing you’re on my good side. Imagine how hard I am to please if I hate your ass.”
“I’m not one hundred percent sure you don’t.”
“I tolerate you, at best.”
Say what you want, but I know Cyrus considers me a brother, and not just because technically he is now.
We’ve gone to battle together. You don’t live through the shit we have and not come out caring.
Regardless of how corrupt and ruthless you are.
The man is family, with or without my sister.
“When do you think the article will go viral?” he asks.
I lift my hand and run it over my jaw. “If I had to harbor a guess, within the hour.”
“Paul is going to be pissed.” He chuckles.
“Pissed is an understatement. His one chance at legitimacy is a complete joke. No one wants his damn sauce and taking it public was a dumb move. The second the story leaks about what is in the sauce, he will wish he never fucked with Lorenzo.”
Lorenzo is a fairly new client for me. He took over the mob after another client of mine, the former mafia head Matteo Amanté, stepped down.
Paul made a play at him when he first took over and tried to ruin him before he even started, but that’s a whole other story. One I don’t even know the half of. Probably won’t ever either.