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Part I
Liam was restless and itching for a fuck as he headed toward one of the premier clubs in downtown Dublin. He walked past the long line of people waiting to get in and started through the door when the bouncer, some giant meathead put a hand on his chest to block his way.
“Line’s back there, pal.”
Liam looked up at the man incredulously. “Get your fucking hand off me. Don’t you know who the fuck I am?”
“You got a VIP pass?” the bouncer asked, crossing thick muscled arms over his chest like that was going to intimidate Liam.
“Yeah, it’s called my family owns half this fuckin’ town and if you know what’s good for you, you’ll get the fuck out of my way if you want to keep this piece of shite job you got here.”
The bouncer moved so that his whole body blocked the door to the club. “No VIP pass, no entry. You can wait in line like everybody else.”
Liam started laughing. He turned to the people waiting in line. “You believe this guy?” He jerked a thumb over his shoulder. People in the crowd immediately started whispering. Phones came out and started clicking away. No doubt footage of this would be on YouTube within the hour.
He didn’t get the title of Ireland’s Richest and Most Debauched Playboy for nothing. Really, it was a title he had to constantly strive to live up to.
“Uh oh,” Liam said to the bouncer. “My public is watching. It’d be a shame not to give them a show, eh boyo?”
The bouncer’s small pig-eyes narrowed even more. The bastard was built like a refrigerator but Liam figured there couldn’t be that much going on upstairs. The valets had just driven off with his Bugatti. Did the bouncer think people who drove Bugattis waited in lines?
Still, fair was fair. So Liam gave him more than enough time to block his first blow. It was a simple right hook, after all.
The guy was at least a foot taller than Liam but obviously not very quick on his feet because it was only after Liam got his punch in that the guy reacted. He staggered back a step but then let out a roar and came at Liam swinging.
Now this was more like it.
He swung one meaty fist at Liam but Liam easily dodged. He ducked and danced his way out of the path of another heavy-fisted swing.
“Come on, don’t tell me you’re gonna let some scrawny little bastard like me get the better of ya? What’ll you tell your girlfriend when she asks about that black eye you’re gonna have? That you let one of the rich little scuts down at the club beat your arse?”
The bouncer’s face went red and he charged again, swinging wildly.
Liam grabbed his arm and used it as leverage to pull the man in for a roundhouse kick to his stomach. He immediately grabbed for his stomach, gasping hard.
Still holding the guy’s arm, Liam twisted it backwards and him to his knees. Then it was a simple matter of putting him in a chokehold. Within half a minute, the big man was out.
Jesus, Liam had been hoping he’d put up more of a challenge than that. It was barely worth the effort.
Liam stood up and dusted off his pants. He grinned and doffed an invisible cap toward the line of people watching on, half of them with phones trained on him.
Then he turned and headed into the dark club. Instead of the usual rush scuffling gave him, though, he felt a bit… well, he couldn’t quite put a finger on what he felt. Maudlin. Restless. Agitated.
It was a shite feeling and he hated it.
Where was the cool confidence he used to have about being king of all his domain?
“Mr. O’Neil,” a man in a sharp suit with a crisp silver tie hurried over to him, his face distressed. “I just heard about what happened outside and I want to assure you that man will be fired immediately. You are one of our most valued patrons and we always want you to have the best experience possible at Club Electra. I cannot apologize enough for—”
Liam waved a hand like he was swatting a fly. He fecking hated simpering little weasels like this who fell all over themselves around rich people. Have a little dignity for fuck’s sake.
“Is my private room ready?” Liam asked, looking around the club. He recognized some faces here and there on the dance floor. All of Dublin’s richest and most beautiful were out partying it up like they did every Friday night. And Saturday night. And Thursday and Wednesday and well, there really wasn’t any night you couldn’t go somewhere to get shitfaced with the wealthy and semi-famous.
“Of course, Mr. O’Neil. Mr. Flannigan and a guest are waiting. A martini has also just been delivered to the room.”
Liam nodded and headed for the glass elevator without another word. It would be good to see Sean. They’d been friends ever since Uni. Sean’s da had hit it big in IT so Sean lived a similar life of frivolity and privilege as Liam. If you were gonna be a useless fuck, might as well do it with friends.
Liam headed to the VIP suite he always kept reserved for his parties. He opened the door and saw Sean and his girlfriend Brigid were already inside. Brigid was wearing a skimpy silver sequin dress with so little material it barely deserved the name.
