The second I answered, Bianca’s scream almost blew out my eardrum.

“You fucking hung up on me?!”

I could hear men laughing in the background, the clinking of glasses.

“My cousin is right here with me!” Bianca’s voice was hysterical with triumph. “Marco, say something to this bartender who doesn’t know his place!”

The phone was passed over.

“Kid, this is Marco,” a rough voice growled. “Get your ass to the Phantom Lounge. Now. You’re covering our tab, then you’re driving us home. Do that, and I might put you on the VIP floor.”

The VIP section?

I couldn’t help but chuckle. “And you have the authority for that, Manager Marco?”

According to family rules, the VIP section is for our most important allies. Any staff change for that area has to be approved by me.

“Authority?” Marco grunted. “Kid, you know how long I’ve been here? Five years, three months! I can make or break anyone I want in this place.”

Bianca chimed in loudly, “Yeah! That old bartender Sal, the one who was here for twenty years? He talked back to my cousin, and Marco had his legs broken and got him thrown in the warehouse!”

My smile froze.

Sal?

The air in the penthouse turned ice-cold. My blood went hot, then froze in my veins.

Sal. Salvatore Moretti. An old bartender who had served the Grimaldi family for twenty years. He’d even worked for my father.

He wasn’t the smartest, not the most capable, but he was loyal.

Last month, Vincent reported to me that old Sal had an “accident” moving liquor in the cellar. Hurt his leg. Requested a transfer to guard the warehouse himself.

I saw the report. I even signed off on it.

An “accident”?

So that’s what they called it. A loyal soldier, a veteran, getting his legs broken by some piece-of-shit manager whose name I didn’t even know. All for “talking back.”

In my territory.

This wasn't just some manager pulling rank. This was spitting on the Grimaldi name. Poison in the foundations my father laid.

I took a deep breath. The air tasted like blood.

“Your cousin…” I said, my voice dangerously low, “he’s got balls.”

Bianca completely missed the murder in my tone. She just got cockier.

“Of course he does! I’m telling you, my cousin plans to bring our whole family into the club! All the men, women, everyone!” she cackled. “The whole club will be ours, and my cousin will be king!”

I took a slow breath. “Your cousin’s a real operator in his family, huh?”

She didn’t catch my drift. She just kept bragging.

“You’re just figuring that out?”

“My cousin said that after a while, he’s going to get our family into all the Grimaldi businesses. We’ll be in every part of the operation. Forget the club, even the docks will be ours to run!”

One hell of a club manager.

The man had ambition.

I smirked. “And your cousin isn’t afraid the Don will find out?”

Bianca let out a short, sharp laugh.

“My cousin says the new Don is just some kid back from college. He’s all mysterious and quiet, with a dozen other businesses to run. He’ll never notice a small club like this.”

“As long as the Don’s not around, my cousin can do whatever he wants!”

I smiled.

It was true, I had a lot of businesses. But they were all running smoothly.

I only stepped in for major decisions. The rest of it ran itself.

But this club, the one tied so closely to the docks, was different.

I had high hopes for it. I wanted it to be the main hub for the family and our allies.

But it’s been underperforming for years.

That’s why I’d been spending all my time here lately.

Even going undercover as a bartender, just to watch.

I wanted to find the problem.

And now, I finally had.

The rot started from within. We had rats.

“Alright, I don’t care where you are!” Bianca’s voice grew sharper. “Get your ass to the ‘Phantom’ Lounge! And bring two bottles of Dom Pérignon! This is your chance to kiss up to your future boss!”

I let out a soft laugh. “Kiss up?”

“That’s right!” Marco snarled on the other end. “Kid, take my advice. My cousin has taken a liking to you. That’s a blessing. You serve her well from now on, and I’ll make sure you go far in this club.”

“Thanks,” my voice was flat as a frozen lake. “You two can find your own way home.”

“You wouldn’t dare!” Bianca shrieked.

I hung up.

My phone immediately started buzzing like crazy.

A flood of texts rolled in:

“You’re finished! I’ll have you blacklisted from the entire Chicago underworld!”

“Get ready to be kicked out of the club!”

“My cousin has a hundred ways to destroy you!”

“A piece of trash like you dares to refuse ME?!”

I stared at the hysterical threats and felt nothing but tired.

The Don of the Grimaldi family, worth more than she could count, being threatened by a bottle girl?

It was the joke of the century.

But I didn’t care about Bianca’s mouth.

She was a nobody, just started a month ago. She couldn’t make a ripple.

What worried me was a club manager with this much nerve.

It meant the rot went higher up.

Marco had to have someone propping him up.

I picked up the encrypted phone from the nightstand and sent a message to my second-in-command, Antonio.

“Family meeting. 9 AM tomorrow. All Capos. Attendance is mandatory.”

Three seconds later, Antonio replied: “Understood, Don.”

I looked out at the sky, just starting to turn gray. A cold smile touched my lips.

Time to clean house.

The next morning, I drove my cheapest car—a black Dodge—to the club.

I’d just parked by the back and was heading for the employee entrance when two figures blocked my path.

Bianca stood there, dressed in designer clothes, arms crossed, a smug sneer on her face.

Next to her was a man in his early thirties.

Suit, slicked-back hair, an oily look about him. This had to be the manager, Marco.

“That’s him!” Bianca pointed at me, complaining to Marco. “That’s the bartender who thinks he’s too good for us! He hung up on me yesterday!”

Marco looked me up and down with contempt.

I was dressed casually today.

Simple black t-shirt and jeans. I looked like any other guy on the payroll.

“You’re Nico?” Marco’s voice was full of arrogance. “I’ve never seen you before. How’d you get a job at this club?”

“The back door,” I answered flatly.

It wasn’t a lie. I did come through the “back door”—the employee entrance.

Marco sneered. “I knew it! Another freeloader who got in through connections!”

He paced in front of me, like a judge about to pass sentence.

“Kid, you pissed off my cousin yesterday. We can’t just let that slide. But I’m a reasonable man, Marco. I’ll give you a chance to make it right.”

“I’m listening.”

Marco cleared his throat and announced his “terms.”

“First, you’re going to wire five thousand dollars to my personal account. Consider it your fee for getting hired without going through the proper channels.”

He pulled out his phone and flashed a payment code in my face.

“Second, from now on, you’re her personal driver. Morning and night. You do whatever she asks, no questions.”

“Third, you’re paying for yesterday. A grand for the cab, four for the booze, and ten grand for my cousin’s hurt feelings.”

Marco looked pleased with my stunned expression. He summed it up.

“That’s twenty thousand total. You pay, we forget this happened. You don’t…”

He smiled, a nasty, chilling thing. “Then you can wait to get thrown out of the club.”

I looked at his face—a mask of greed and pride—and felt nothing but a cold calm.

The Don of the Grimaldi family. Standing in my own club. Being shaken down by my own employee.

For twenty grand.

Out in the open, on my own turf.

Marco shoved his phone in my face.

“Make the transfer. Now!” he urged impatiently. “I don’t have all day.”

More and more employees were gathering around. Some were whispering, some giving me looks of pity. A few were secretly filming, waiting for the show.

Bianca stood next to Marco, her eyes gleaming with vengeful delight, already imagining me on my knees, begging.

I scanned the crowd, then asked calmly, “Manager Marco, does every employee have to pay this five-thousand-dollar fee?”

Marco hesitated for a second, then sneered. “Of course not. This is a special ‘handling fee.’ For guys like you who slip in through the back door.”

“Processing fee?” I raised an eyebrow.

“That’s right!” Bianca added proudly. “You broke the rules getting hired. My cousin is helping you smooth things over. What’s wrong with him getting paid for his trouble? Getting to drive me, having my cousin deal with you personally… you’re lucky!”

I looked at the two of them and had to laugh.

“And if I refuse?”

Marco’s face darkened instantly, a dangerous glint in his eyes.

“Refuse?” He stepped closer, lowering his voice to a threat. “Kid, you know the family has a big meeting today, right? The big bosses are coming. All I have to do is mention your bad attitude, your insubordination… and you and whoever got you this job are both screwed.”

He clapped me on the shoulder, hard.

“Twenty grand for some peace of mind. It’s a good deal. Be smart.”

Bianca suddenly piped up, excited. “Marco, is the new Don coming today?”

Marco nodded proudly. “Of course! The new Don is leading the meeting himself.”

Bianca’s eyes lit up, and her voice turned sickly sweet. “Can you introduce me? I need to know what kind of woman the Don likes…”

She fluffed her hair, striking what she thought was a seductive pose.

“If I can become the Don’s wife, our family will be set for life!”

I watched her pathetic act and shook my head.

“The Don wouldn’t be interested in someone like you.”

Bianca’s smile froze on her face, then she exploded, pointing at me.

“You piece of trash! Who are you to judge me?! You’ve never even seen the Don! What do you know?!”

“I haven’t,” I shrugged. “But I know his type. You’re not it.”

“You—!” Bianca’s face was beet red with fury.

Marco had lost all his patience. He stared at me coldly.

“Enough! Stop wasting my time. The money. Are you paying or not?”

The air was thick, ready to catch fire.

The crowd held its breath, waiting for my answer.

I met Marco’s threatening gaze and said, calmly and firmly:

“No.”

Marco’s eyes narrowed, a dangerous smile spreading across his face.

“Fine. You want to do this the hard way…”

He bellowed to the crowd. “Security! Get over here!”

Two large security guards immediately pushed their way forward.

“Manager Marco, what’s the problem?”

Marco pointed a finger at me, his voice like ice. “This man is an illegal employee with a terrible attitude. Get him out of the club. And make sure he never sets foot in here again.”

The guards exchanged a look, then started moving toward me.

“Sir, please leave.”

Just then, as they closed in, a clear voice cut through from the back of the crowd.

“Capo Vincent is here!”

Everyone fell silent, parting like the Red Sea.

“Capo Vincent.”

“Good morning, Capo.”

Greetings rippled through the staff.

A man around fifty walked through the path they’d made. He wore a sharp, dark blue suit, his hair combed perfectly, carrying the natural authority of a man used to being in charge.

It was Vincent, one of the family’s Capos.

He scanned the crowd, his brow furrowed. “What’s going on? Why is everyone crowded around the back door?”

Marco’s face instantly changed, all greasy smiles. He practically scampered over, like a dog wagging its tail.

“Capo Vincent, you’re just in time!” he said, fawning. “I was just handling a little problem.”

Vincent’s eyes swept past Marco and locked onto me.

His pupils shrank to pinpricks. His voice was a choked whisper.

“Don… What are you doing here?”