LOCATION: THE HOUSE
“I can tell you don’t want this, Killian. The club, your father’s legacy. You never wanted to have any part of it. Let me run the House. You can move to Beverly Hills, go to college, and get yourself a nice little girlfriend. It’s what your father would have wanted.” Terry’s voice sounded like nails on a chalkboard. He was trying to manipulate him. It was a valiant effort, but Killian wasn’t some dumb frat boy like everyone was led to believe. He didn’t spend his teenage years partying on a yacht and getting head in his daddy’s Porsche. Augustus kept him home, locked away like a prisoner. He was beaten and abused and made no different than the conspirators and double-crossers Augustus kept locked up in his prison beneath the club. Killian always dreamt of freeing them so they’d murder his father for him. But quickly changed his mind the night he got caught down there with a set of keys. His father questioned him over and over again and when Killian stammered for an answer, he tossed him into a cage with three others, who spent the rest of the night making a bitch out of him. They abused him physically, psychologically, and even sexually. It was at that point when Killian realized they were nothing more than savage beasts who he’d rather rot in hell for all eternity than to save.
“You’re wrong. My father never allowed me here. He forbade it. Now it’s mine. The last thing I’m going to do is turn it over to one of his pathetic henchman. In fact, by the end of the night, you’ll be his last standing solider. I will no longer be the leper, you will. So do me a favor, bootlicker, and keep your mouth shut. And in the event of my death, I have already given my people the following orders to maim everyone you hold dear. Translation, if you try to kill me, or even if you don’t, if I get hit by a bus, you will still be held accountable. So from here on out, or until you resign, our lives our tethered.”
Killian exhaled a breath as he took his rightful seat on his father’s throne. It was only fitting he keep this single piece of furniture while everything else was demolished during a year’s worth of renovating. Furthermore, claiming the King’s chair seemed to irritate Terry. That may have been Killian’s favorite part. “Okay, bring out the girls. And remember, nobody touches them.” He’s already hired escorts. These girls were meant to dance, to be enticing, yet untouchable. That will be their allure. Both men and women alike will always want what they cannot have. It was a despicable human trait worth exploiting.
As the girls filed out, Killian sat positioned above a platform overlooking the stage. They were to dance for him. At the moment he was their only audience. At least the only one that mattered. Others were being trained at the bar or dropping off mixtapes for the disc jockey position. Everyone wanted to be a part of the illustrious nightclub. It was the single greatest venue this city has to offer, and its reopening was highlighted everywhere. Every journalist had their nose pressed against the glass, willing to bleed for an exclusive.
“Okay, who’s up next? Those of you who’ve already auditioned, welcome yourselves to the club’s amenities. On the house, of course.”
