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5

Spade Maverick

I had the guards give them each a bowl of plain white rice, monitoring them to make sure they both eat it all.

It was filling so it'll do.

I looked between my cards, laughing to myself like she didn't know it was clear the Ace of Spades was in her top.

I set them aside, preparing to go to bed, exhausted and lightly tipsy but not really.

♠️♥️♣️♦️

I got ready, pulling on just a white button up, and black dress pants.

I yawned, knowing damn well I had a fucking meeting with one of my clubs managers who didn't like what I had planned.

I put on my watch, combing my hair into the messy pompadour style my curls not quite cooperating.

I shaved my face clean of its shadow.

I felt, going to the main floor, into the first conference room.

"There you go! On the verge of being late." He said and I shut the door.

"Talk to me like I'm your friend and I'll have a nail hammered into that big ass forehead." I sat down across from him.

"Oh don't be a bum. Anyways I'm vetoing your proposal on changing the drinks." He spoke.

"Proposal?" I smiled.

"That wasn't a fucking proposal. It is happening." I blinked at his ego, dusting it off him like it was a hair of sort, dismissing his opinions because they meant nothing.

It bothered him.

I was having a blast.

A knock came on the door.

"It's Vanessa, she's ready if you need anything." My guard said and I hummed.

"Have her come in. Want anything to drink?" I asked the ritardato mentale man.

Mentally retarded.

"A peach margarita?" He asked.

"Is that a question?" A sweet voice spoke beside me.

"She is a bartender." I informed.

"That's what I'd like please." He nodded.

"You, sir?" She asked me.

Well fuck me.

"How about... I'm not sure. Nothing too strong. Surprise me." I looked up at her.

"I'll be back with those." She left and his eyes were on her.

"Since when-"

"I'm changing the drinks. That's final. Your opinion is irrelevant and fuck, if you don't like it I'll fire you and have her manage the place. Let's get one thing clear kid," I leaned forward.

"-I hired you. I own it. It's my money. My business. You have no authority over me. There are hundreds of other people who could do better than you but I know you've struggled keeping jobs in your past so I'm trying to be generous. But for fucks sake, you have no say as long as I want something else." I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose.

"Fine." He sounded upset.

I laughed.

"Why? What's wrong with what I want?" I asked.

He shook his head, suspicious.

"You did something." I whispered, accusing him.

"It doesn't matter."

"I have cameras. I'll have security go through tapes-"

"Half of the bottles are different. Two bottles of each alcohol, one normal, the other for women..."

"You drugged it. You've been drugging them." I nodded.

"But-"

"That makes so much sense. You want your dick sucked so you've blackmailed female employees. You want- oh my fucking god!" I felt my adrenaline spike, my fists crashing down on the table as the door opened.

I didn't care that the margarita was on the damn floor as I stepped on the glass, my hands gripping the collar of the disgusting piece of shit.

"You're done. Marcire All 'inferno." I shoved him onto the table, my forearm over his throat.

Rot in hell.

"God I don't know what I should do with you." I wondered for a long time why the waitresses were so skittish, but I'd ask, they'd tell me home problems.

I wondered why that place we had the most blackout drunk women.

I give a homeless kid a shot and he turns out to be absolutely vile.

This is why I'm not nice. What the fuck.

"What's wrong?" Vanessa asked from over by the door.

"Have Nick come in." I told her to grab the guard and she did.

"Basement. Then check the tapes for possibly how many women were in danger because of him." I whispered, my throat dry.

"I'll take over." He gentle replaced his hands where mine were before yanking him up and dragging him out.

I fixed my shirt and pants, smoothing my hand over my hair.

"Do you need me to leave?" She asked.

"Scotch. Over ice." I looked at her, fixing the cuffs of my shirt.

"I dropped the glass, I'm sorry." She said, looking at the floor between us covered in orange slush, and shards of glass.

"Don't be, Ace. You're just fine." I took a deep breath, I was also just fine.

But I'll cut a centimeter off his dick for every woman he took advantage of until it was gone.

Therapy.

"You're Italian?" She asked.

"And slightly Norwegian." I nodded.

"Do you speak it fluently?" I took a moment to admire her clothing, a smooth white dress complimenting the olive shade.

"Yes. Parents were immigrants. I was born and raised here." I nodded.

"Woah. I had no idea, you have no accent what so ever." She hummed.

I smiled.

"I know. Excuse me." I called in my, I suppose it could be called a walkie talkie, for the janitors.

"It's going to get cleaned up. Nevermind the scotch, drowning my frustration in alcohol isn't healthy so, how about lunch?" I asked.

"Okay." She nodded.

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