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Chapter One
“Yo, brother, I think you need to go back home and mellow out.”
Alastair turned abruptly to face his brother, Calum, getting in his face and gritting his teeth. “Would you like to say that to me one more time?”
“Jesus Christ.” Calum raised his hands and took a hasty step back. “Man, it’s just that you’re really pissed off….”
“Aren’t you usually like this after talking to your mother?” Alastair asked.
“She’s your stepmother. That counts, nut fuck. But yes, I do. The woman’s a viper. It’s just when you’re pissed like this, someone usually ends up dead.”
Alastair rolled his eyes, turned, and walked down the long hallway. The woman, Calum’s mother, was his fourth stepmother. Alastair’s mother died a few days after giving birth to him, which ruined his father. From what his family had told him over the years, they had been passionately in love, surprising because of their lifestyle.
Being a part of the mafia was not easy. You had to be cold and vicious to survive. It was especially hard for the women. The wives and mistresses had to deal with a lot.
His father had married four more times, trying to find the love he’d had with Isabella, Alastair’s mother, and it had never happened. This last one, Una, Calum’s mother, was the worst.
The first three stepmothers had died of surprisingly natural causes and not murder like one would expect living with the mafia—one in a car accident, one in an accidental drug overdose, and an accidental fall down the steps.
Alastair had liked that one the most. Nessa had been Logan, Ewen, and Rory’s mother and had been sweet as can be. It had hit his father hard when she passed away. Not as hard as Alastair’s mother, Isabella, but it took a while for him to want to have another woman in the house and in his life.
This last wife was a viper, and Alastair hated her, but he had to get along with her because his father was alive. After the stroke, his father had been unable to lead the Maclean clan, so Alastair had taken over the whole operation then, which was fine because he ran most of it anyway.
He shivered inside. Two minutes with his stepmother was torture. The woman was as mean as they came, and he couldn’t understand what his father saw in her. She might have been attractive if not for the permanent sneer she had on her face.
His brother was probably right, but he couldn’t stand the thought of going home to the same house his stepmother lived in, knowing she’d probably try to hunt him down to talk some more because he’d walked out on her tirade. The temptation to just kill her was too strong, and he didn’t know if his father would ever forgive him.
“What exactly are we looking at?” Calum asked.
“Our strip joint in Newport needs new women, and I sent out some of our guys to find ones who were attractive and loved being a stripper. Most of the ones we have now are getting old and tired, so we’ll get them other jobs in the business.”
“Cool. Maybe think about taking one of them home,” Duncan, another brother, said. “It might help your disposition.”
“Fuck off,” Alastair said without turning around.
Alastair opened the door to what could pass as a conference room. It had a long table and chairs and a small bar off to the side. Some meetings went late, and the guys were more pleasant if they had some alcohol in them. But not too much, or they started killing each other.
The women were already there waiting. The ones that noticed him stood as seductively as they could, begging for his or his brothers’ attention. Being one of their mistresses was sought after not only for their good looks but mainly for the money.
“Hey,” Stuart, one of his best men who had been with him for years, said and walked over to shake his hand. “I think we did well.”
“You checked for diseases and made sure they had no children?”
“Sure, boss. I know what you like.”
Alastair nodded. “Where’s Ross? He was supposed to be helping you.”
“He’s coming in with the last one or two.”
Alastair turned to Calum. “Can you get me a bourbon on the rocks?” He wouldn’t admit it to his brothers, but he did need to mellow out, and a nice drink helped every time.
“Sure.”
The first drink went down smoothly and helped calm his anger a bit as he talked to Stuart and ignored the women trying to vie for his notice and interest. He shook his head and snorted when his brothers did give the women their attention and had girls all over them.
“Craig is going to take these women to the club if you’re okay with them,” Stuart said.
Alastair turned and whistled for Duncan. “I’m going to put you in charge of this. Take them to Speedy’s, get the women who will live in our apartments next to the club moved in, and take the rest back to their place but tell them they have to be at work tomorrow. If they are late, they’re fired. There are no second chances.”
“I got it,” Duncan said.
His brother and a couple of the men rounded up the women and took them out a back door to the vans waiting.
“Are you going to wait for the last of them?” Stuart asked.
Alastair looked at his watch and sat down. “I’ll give them a few minutes.”
He hadn’t finished with his second drink when a side door opened and Ross, one of his guys, walked in, dragging a woman. She was crying and fighting to get away from him.
“Shut up, bitch,” Ross said and shook her.
“What the fuck are you doing?” Stuart yelled.
Alastair held up a hand, set down his drink, and stood to face Ross. He walked to stand in front of the man and crossed his arms over his chest to keep from strangling the man, trying to ignore the woman’s pleas and cries. “Tell me.”
Ross stuttered. “Oh, well, her uncle owed us some money, and I was supposed to get it, but he didn’t have it, and so I thought we could use her as collateral until he pays up.”
Calum, Stuart, and the rest of his guys cursed, and the tension rose in the room.
Alastair just stared at the woman. She was tiny but had curved hips and larger breasts. She was dressed in a long white nightgown with lace. Her dark hair was tousled like she’d been pulled from bed.
“Who gave you permission to do that?” Alastair asked when he turned back at Ross.
“Well, no one. I just thought…”
“Is it your job to think?” Alastair asked.
