Prologue
Bryce
I never thoughtI’d see my sister again.
When I was eight, she’d vanished without a trace. My mother had told me time and time again that she didn’t know where my sister was, and eventually I’d stopped asking. Sometimes I thought that I’d dreamt her or that she was an imaginary friend when I had no other kids to play with me.
Until my mother killed herself a little more than three years ago.
I’d just turned eighteen a few weeks before. I came home from being out with Tony, my mother’s husband. Though, as I read the suicide note that my mother had left, I found out that Tony was more than her husband and that my sister didn’t only exist in my imagination ...
Bry,
I can’t deny it anymore. Tony is your biological father. I’m sorry we’ve lied to you your entire life. He wanted it that way.
Over the years, I’ve watched you grow from a boy and into a man. Sadly, you’re becoming like him, and it’s all my fault. Everything is my fault—even your sister leaving. At least I hope she left and wasn’t killed by him. Tony swears he didn’t do anything to her, but I know she ran away because I let him sell her virginity—like it was ours to sell for her. My heart breaks knowing I had a hand in it, but I had no choice. Your father was my Daddy. He started to whore me out not long after I had Joss. He’s already started showing you the ropes, and soon he’ll turn you into a pimp and have you working in his circle. I can’t watch you go down that path.
I’d give anything to go back to your sister’s seventeenth birthday. I would change it all. I would leave with the two of you, and I’d find a way to hide us from that horrific man. To let you grow up in a normal household. A home where I would show you how much I truly love you. A home where we would laugh. A home where we would be able to come and go as we pleased. A home where you could have grown up like a normal kid and not one surrounded by sex, lies, and drugs.
I’d be the mother you deserve—that Joss deserved.
Obviously, that didn’t happen, and it eats me alive every day. I deserve the way he has treated me for the last thirty-five years, but I can’t live like this anymore, Bry. I can’t live and watch you turn into him. Your sister wouldn’t have let that happen. Part of me feels that she’s still alive and has found happiness. That she laughs every day. That she’s happy and in love and not weak like me.
I want you to be happy. I want you to find a woman who you truly deserve and not one who will only warm your bed. But I don’t know how to get you away from your father, and that’s the only answer.
You’re eighteen now, but you’ll always be under his control. There’s no getting away from him, and for that, I’m sorry too. I can’t be under his control anymore, but please know that even though I was mean to you and acted like you were a mistake, I love you. I love you so much, and I can’t watch him destroy you like he destroyed Joss and me.
I’m sorry, please forgive me.
Mom
XOXO
I found the note on my pillow when I got home from going with Tony to my first Pimp Circle. He was trying to teach me the ways on how to turn out a ho because I was “finally” a man. When we got to a warehouse near the Vegas airport, my father’s pimp partners were there with a single girl.
“This is what we in the game call a Pimp Circle, son. It’s time you learn how to turn a cunt that’s being difficult,”he’d said.
The men circled the girl like lions ready to attack, and I watched my father and the other pimps intimidate the scared girl physically, emotionally and sexually. It wasn’t the first time I’d known Tony to beat a woman, but watching it firsthand made my mouth water for a taste of the action. After that day, I was shown that a pimp circle could be with any form of abuse or coercion to get the ho to turn out—force her into prostitution. When I was nineteen, my father made me force a ho by gang raping her with the other pimp partners in our circle. He’d told me,“One day, you’ll be me. You’ll take over the family business and run this town. You’ll be the top Gorilla Pimp in Clark County.”At first, I was nervous, but as I watched the other pimps take their turns, I got hard. I wanted to be in control for once, feel what it was like to take what wasmine. For so long I’d been doing what Tony had told me to do, and then he was giving me the chance to, finally, become a man.
That was how and who he was, and I didn’t know any different. Even after I read my mother’s suicide note and found her dead body, I thought being forceful was how to play the game. It was all I knew, how I was raised. Growing up, if I were to backtalk or tell Tony I didn’t want to do something, he’d beat me until I did it. That was why I stayed in the family business even after my mother’s final words. I feared deep down that if I were to ever disobey Tony to any extreme, he’d kill me. I’d even destroyed the suicide note in fear that Tony would blame me. I wasn’t even allowed to cry for my loss. I hated him, but had no choice. I had to do what he told me to do or I’d be beaten just like his whores.
A year later—and after many hours oftraining—I found my bottom bitch, Jasmine. One night she started walking my track (where my bitches ran their tricks and made their quota looking for dates). One of my girls called and said someone was on their turf. When I pulled myRoverto where they were working, I spotted Jasmine leaning against a brick wall by herself. Every ho in the business knows that you keep your head down and never make eye contact with a pimp because, if you do, you’re automaticallychoosing up—stolen from your current pimp. And Jasmine had done exactly that. She’d made a reckless eyeballing mistake, looking up when she thought I was a john. The moment our gazes met, she was mine.
“Shit,”she muttered,“Martinez.”
She knew who I was right away, and therefore, I didn’t need to coerce her or break her. Everyone knew the Martinez family. My father ran the town, and people knew not to fuck with me. Jasmine was mine, and I could see the defeat on her face immediately as she closed her eyes, looked back down at the ground and her body slumped as if she was defeated.
By the end of that night, I’d learned Jasmine’s pimp was taking ninety percent of her cut and not the typical seventy-five percent. So really, her mistake wasmeant to befor the both of us. She was making more money under my family, and I had another ho makingmemoney.
Over the next two years, I began to trust her more and more, and six months ago I made her my bottom. Together we manage my stable of thirty plus hos. She’s my eyes, my ears, and my recruiter.
That was until my long-lost sister—a fucking FBI agent—took me down.
I’d heard about this bitch that Jasmine recruited who’d tried to square up. I thought this loose bitch was a renegade and couldn’t decide if she wanted to work as an escort, out of pocket as a renegade or what she didn’t know, inmypocket. Once they were recruited, they worked for me and only me. Since Jasmine was my bottom, she recruited the hos and set-up the first date. And then, after they passed the firstteston their first date, I’d come in and head cut them, reminding them who was really in charge. They say pimpin’ ain’t easy, but you know what? It is until the cunts break the rules.
The first test was a date with my best friend, Aaron, who’d forcefully take control of the situation. The whores would think they were in control because they’d have what the john wanted, but the real truth was thatIwas their daddy andIwas in control. At any moment, Aaron could be the man on the other side of the door. That was how I ran things. Recruits were raped by Aaron, and if they submitted, they passed. If they fought it or tried to back out, I’d step in.
They didn’t want me to step in.
