"We will each introduce ourselves, and then if you have questions, we will answer them as we see fit to," he says as he settles back into the huge chair, he is now sitting in. He nods at Conner first.

"I am Conner Wilkins, and as we said, we grew up together in Italy but mostly stayed at Zane's house. If you did not see us three together, people would wonder why and where the missing one was. I guess we just became so close that people thought we belonged together all the time. My age is twenty-five, just like the other two here, and none of us are married as of right now."

Next is Noah. "I am Noah Jacob Milwaukee, and no, my last name has nothing to do with the drink. Most people call me Noah, but Boss will call me by my middle name now and then. Conner did a pretty good job saying everything about us, so that is all you need to know about me then." He has a sexy smile on his face that could make a woman's panties melt.

"I have heard rumors that you guys are in the Mafia? Is that so?" looking around at the three men that are beyond sexy, and any woman would fall at their feet to be with them.

All three of them grin and nod their head. Conner looks at me. "Bossman is, of course, the leader; I am his second, and Noah is his third in command. We all make the decisions together, but if someone wants one of us by rank, that is how we know who they need to speak to."

"So Zane is the ruthless killer that everyone has talked about?" my eyes lock onto his dark ones that are sparkling in the lights.

Another waitress has brought them more drinks, and he tosses one back. "If you cross me, then yes, I am known to either blow your head off or to snap a neck here and there. I run the biggest business here now, while my parents run the biggest one in Italy. I moved here because I wanted my own crew to work with without taking orders from my father anymore."

"What good am I to you? I don't want to be anywhere near that, and I don't even know how to shoot a gun," hoping my lame excuse will get me the hell out of here like now.

His eyes go dark; he scoots to the front of the chair and slowly ticks his finger back and forth. "Tsk, Tsk. Tsk. The fastest way to make me mad is to lie to my face about something that I already know about you. You have had your CWP since you were eighteen due to your father used to take you to shooting ranges every week to learn how to become an excellent marksman. You were going to go into the Marines to become a sniper, but your mother would not let you."

Dropping my head, I should have known that my file was extremely detailed for him. I nod and look up at him. "I should have known that you could pull anything you wanted to know about me and my past."

"This is a way to get to know each other, earn trust, which you are failing at very badly now by telling me a lie. I even know where you shop for your underwear, if you must know. When my people dig, they dig deep because I require it when I want to know about someone" that devilish smirk is back on his face again.

"If you must know about us, please ask. We are an open book to people that we trust or want to talk to" Conner smiles as he takes a sip of his.

"What exactly do you want from me and why" looking Zane dead in the eyes.

"I told you what I wanted and why; I always get what I want and when I want it. No questions asked" as he looks me over from head to toe.

I stand up, and he stares at me while I walk to the glass, looking down over the crowded dance floor. You can barely hear the music's beat because the room is soundproof, but seeing everyone hustling around the floor, serving drinks, and making money bring a small tear to my eye. I need money to help support my apartment, pay half of the bills that we are splitting. There are many high rollers here tonight throwing money around at them as they drop drinks off, getting tipped while doing it.

"What is wrong? Why are you tearing up?" he says in a harsh, cold voice.

"I need to be down there on the floor making money to pay my bills with. I don't understand why you would choose me of all the people around here?" wiping a stray tear from my face slowly.

I hear him get up; then I see him walk to the glass beside me while looking down at the busy floor. "You see how hard they have to work to get money to pay their bills with? Serving men who are grabbing their asses, looking down their shirts, and getting a hard-on for something they can not have."

"Yes, I go through that every night I work here. That is why I stay here due to men like that is who give you the biggest tips. They might be able to fantasize about having you in their bed, but their money is damn good," trying to keep my voice from cracking.

I see out of the corner of my eye that he has turned to look at me and then reaches in his back pocket. His wallet comes out in his hand, and he opens it while keeping his eyes on me. "How much do you make on a nightly basis here, roughly?"

I shake my head because I do not want his money like that; I am a hard-working person who makes her money correctly. The next thing I know, I am spun around and pinned against the glass with him holding my wrist hard above my head and pushing me against it letting me know that he is not pleased with me not telling him.

"I asked you a question; I want an answer" his eyes are cold, and his face looks like stone.

"I don't want your money like that; I earn it the hard way. I have never been one to ask anything from anyone. The last thing I want to be known as is a gold digger that latches onto someone for just their money."

His body presses hard against mine, and I am worried that the glass holding us up might wind up shattering behind me.

"That is not the question I asked; I want the correct answer. I can find out, you know."

"How, our tips are not counted here. We don't split them and do not have to turn in how much we make a night."

He backs off and walks over to a laptop, grabs it, and then returns to where I am standing. "Do I need to run the tapes from the cameras for one night and see how much you put in your pocket?"

Shit, I forgot about that. I shake my head no and go to sit down. He throws the computer to Conner, who easily catches it and then pins me against the glass again.

"You may not sit down until I have my answer; Conner starts counting up from last night, will you. I would say that she probably walked out of here with five hundred if not more than that."

"Sure thing, boss," I hear him typing, and then he stares at the screen.

"We can do this the easy way or the hard way. Either you stand here while he watches your shift last night, or your lips tell me exactly what I want to hear."

My eyes shift from him to Conner; Noah now joins that as they watch the tapes together. "She made two hundred in just her first hour so far" as they tap the mouse pad, I am guessing fast-forwarding to the next time a tip is left.

"Fine! I walked out of here with about seven hundred last night," rolling my eyes at him.

"See, was that so hard?" he smirks as he lets me go.

"I don't like it when people pry into my personal business," turning back around to look down at the floor again.

This time I feel him behind me as he lays a hand on my shoulder, pulling me away from the glass gently.

"I am not prying, just wondering how well you would do on a busy night like this. I own the club, and I have a right to know what my customers are leaving their waitresses. So, it does become my business in a sense."

I nod as he slowly turns me around to him by pulling on my arm. He looks me in the eye and then hands me a wad of cash that he has pulled out of his wallet. "Here is your pay for tonight for staying up here with me talking."

I look at it, clench my fist and then side step around him to walk out. I hear his finger snap, and the two mountain of men block my path out the door. I spin around, crossing my arms over my chest while glaring at him.

"Are you going to keep me from going to the bathroom now?" my voice is sharp as a knife.

He chuckles and points to the end of the room. "They are down there, love. We have our own private bathrooms, so we don't have to tangle with the guest or deal with how nasty they can get from drunk people who miss or throw up everywhere."

I look down there and then turn to walk to them. The men follow me closely but throw a hand up at them. "I don't need someone to hold my hand while I do this, you know."

"Just making sure you don't try to bolt when you come out. I am not finished with your company tonight."

I reach the door, and they stop standing on each side while I go in. It is a huge bathroom with just a glass block window to the outside world. I guess that they don't need people looking in on them while they use their bathrooms. I finish and look around the massive place; it has a huge walk-in shower with spa treatment jets, a very nice Jacuzzi tub in the corner that is bigger than two bathtubs put together, and then a double sink vanity with gold faucets that are motion activated when you stick your hands under them. I wash my hands and then dry them on the plush gold towel hanging in the corner. Walking back to the door, I lay my hand on the cold wood, wishing I could go back to work. I finally sigh and pull it open, seeing the two men still standing there, and they have not moved a muscle yet. I start to walk back as they follow me and then stand at the entrance again.


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