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I am going to find out who he is, why he’s here auditioning to become a stripper, and what exactly he needs so badly enough to get on that stage despite being terrified.

Davide returns to our booths while I’m considering it. His knuckles are red, the skin across two of them slightly split from instilling some sense into the customer from earlier.

I take out my phone and pass it to him. “Call Esposito, and tell him to meet me here.”

Carmine’s eyebrows rise. “Why do you need to meet the owner of the club?”

I look at him and grin. They all groan, knowing exactly what I want to do.

Esposito arrives less than twenty minutes later looking pale and sweaty despite the cold outside. I tell him I want to buy the club and with the offer I put in front of him, he understands what refusing would cost him without my having to explain it.

“Don’t you need appraisal and, like, numerous other steps before you do this?” Marco asks, deciding this is the perfect moment to show off his Law degree.

I lean back and look around the club. The Bloodrot isn’t particularly large. There’s the main floor, the stage, the bar running along the wall, and the private booths tucked into the darker sections of the room.

What makes the place valuable isn’t its size. It’s the clientele.

This is where a lot of wealthy men because make their shady deals. And maybe this is why I am buying it.

I don’t want him involved in anything that happens here, but if he’s determined to be here, then I want the ability to intervene.

“I’ve appraised it,” I tell Marco. “Still buying it.”

He glares at me and mutters something under his breath.

I know the actual transfer of ownership can’t happen until Monday, and there will be paperwork, lawyers, signatures, and whatever other tedious formalities Marco is undoubtedly dying to explain to me.

None of that matters tonight.

I write the check and slide it across the table to Esposito, who takes it after staring at the amount.

He knows better than to fuck me over.

Within the hour, he informs the senior staff that the club is changing ownership. We agree that my lawyer will contact his people and finalize the transaction during the week.

Raffaele watches him disappear into the crowd before turning to me. “You’ve done some crazy shit that I know of, but this is batshit.”

The others nod in agreement, but I pay them no mind as I look around the club again. The stripper should still be somewhere backstage. And while I could walk back there and find him easily or ask the manager for his name, or have someone bring him to me, none of those options sounds appealing to me.

I decide tonight can get a lot more fun.

“Get me the manager,” I say to Davide.

He nods once and walk away.

Carmine studies me over the rim of his glass. “What now?”

“Something you’ll thank me for.”

The hunt is the main reason we come to The Bloodrot. The club organizes a private one every quarter for us and several other regulars. It’s something we always look forward to. Occasionally, when there are enough people in the club, management organizes one without warning.

Those are usually the best nights.

Vincent approaches our booth a few minutes later. His smile is broader than usual as he extends his hand to me. “Congratulations sir,” he says cheerfully. “What can I do for you?”

“I want a hunt.”

Enzo jumps beside me. “Fuck, yeah.”