Conall smiled proudly when they lowered their eyelashes, looking at their boss seductively, exactly how they’d been trained to do.
“Whatever you fancy, you can have.”
“Whatever I fancy?” Killough stepped forward and the security guards parted for him. “Did you know the Virtue is making less profit than Hell’s Kitchen?”
Terrance shoved himself between the boss and Conall, palms held up. “I can explain that, sir.”
“Did I ask you to?” His stare narrowed on Terrance, jaw tight in warning. “Move.”
Terrance swallowed and obediently stepped aside, head bowed.
“We are aware of that, sir,” Conall said. He didn’t know shit about the profit because he’d never cared about that aspect of the business. His life involved making sure the whores did what they were told to, and that the clients they did have were happy. Terrance took care of the money.
“How do you explain that?” Killough raised an eyebrow in a way Conall had always wanted to master. It was a mocking quirk that made him feel reprimanded, and hehatedbeing treated like a child.
His arms went from resting at his sides to folded over his chest. “Shit happens.”
Terrance’s eyes widened behind Killough’s back, and he made a throat slicing movement at Conall.Cut it out, his brother’s wild, angry gaze told him.
“Shit happens?” Killough repeated slowly.
The men around him shifted their weight between their feet, some of them stiffening. One or two reached inside their jacket, touching their hidden guns.
Fear lodged in the back of Conall’s throat, but it was too late now. He had to roll with it, get himself out of the trouble his mouth had put him in. That meant keeping cool and calm. He shrugged. “We’ve had a few downfalls over the last few months. Some of our whores overdosed and we’ve lost property we weren’t allowed to replace.”
“Really?” Killough blinked slowly at him and twisted to look over his shoulder. “O’Riley, is this true?”
O’Riley nodded furiously. “We’ve had a few ODs, sir.”
“And why weren’t they replaced?” His deep voice demanded answers.
O’Riley cleared his throat. “We needed to cut costs with the Virtue, sir.”
“On whose orders?”
Sweat beaded on O’Riley’s forehead. He wiped at it nervously and clasped his hands in front of him. “McKinnon’s orders, sir.”
Killough nodded sharply then returned his attention to Conall. His mouth curved into a sinister smile. “I’ll make sure this situation is rectified.”
“Thank you, sir.”
Killough clapped and rubbed his hands together. “Now, I did come here for a taste of my product.”
Conall grinned. Selling the whores was what he excelled in. He strode in front of them, arms held wide. “As I said, we have a wide selection. What’s your taste for the night?”
“Night?” Killough shook his head. “No, I’m thinking long-term, someone to warm my bed every night.”
“Really?” His brows shot up and he glanced at their products. A selfish part of him decided he’d forgo introducing Forrest. His arse belonged to Conall and he wasn’t giving him up long-term. Killough probably wasn’t into men anyway.
Conall strode over to Natalia, a petite blonde Russian with amazing tits and a narrow waist. “This is Natalia, she’s a foreigner, nice tight pussy. The clients love her.”
Natalia’s plump lips curved up and she bowed low, her tits nearly falling out of her dress at the movement. “Sir.”
Killough shook his head. “A male.”
The comment caught Conall by surprise. He’d suggested that Forrest try to win Killough’s favor, but he never actually thought the boss would be into guys. Pausing, he glanced at the boss. “A male?”
“Did I stutter?”
