The song for this chapter is Put It On Me - Matt Maeson.
*TRIGGER WARNING: this chapter contains heavy drug use & mature explicit themes. if these themes trigger you then please don't read on & stay safe.*
Celeste
The hotel room floor and table were absolutely overflowing with copious amounts of drugs that we'd stolen from The Young Knives.
We had everything from molly, cocaine, amphetamines, and the harder stuff that we wouldn't fuck with. The drugs were wrapped securely in block bundles that we planned to weigh out and shift. We'd kept a little molly and cocaine for personal consumption but other than that everything was going to get sold for profit. I was laid on the bed surrounded by the block bundles of drugs in Zayn's oversized shirt and nothing else; the boys were sat on the couch on the opposite side of the suite, stacking up the blocks of profit as they talked about how we were going to shift all the drugs. I tossed a bundle of cocaine between my hands as I kept my gaze fixed on them deep in discussion, I could basically see the dollar signs flashing in their eyes as their mouths moved with ideas. Harry was still fully dressed in his attire from the heist, his hair falling messily around his facial features as he kept ringing his fingers through his locks. Zayn was sat next to him shirtless with his jeans still on, his tattooed chest and arms flexing as he helped assist Harry in sorting through the drugs.
It was paradise.
"What do you think, Celeste?" Zayn asked me, his gaze averting from Harry to me on the bed as he spoke.
I kept tossing the bundle of cocaine between the palms of my hands as I responded, "Between Sinners, Haze, and our personal connections I'd say we have a solid line of income. It shouldn't take long to get rid of it if we're smart."
"How are you going to get shifting drugs in your club past your father?" Harry questioned, his gaze staying fixed directly on me as he rubbed the pad of his thumb across his lower lip.
I raised my eyebrow as I put the cocaine down, leaning back on my elbows as a low laugh left my lips at his question. I could see confusion mixed with a little bit of annoyance shine through his irises at the sound of my laugh leaving my throat.
"Oh, I'm not. You're the director, remember?"
Harry's eyes instantly widened at my truthful statement about him now being the director of Haze, his jaw clenched at the fact that he now knew that everything that happened in there would fall directly on him. He stayed silent for a few moments as the cogs turned inside of his brain at a response that would get him out of the shit he'd found himself in.
"You're still the owner."
I tilted my head to the side as a genuine loud laugh rumbled through my body, my eyes never leaving his as I said, "Papa made it perfectly clear that every single decision has to go through you. You're responsible for what goes on in there in terms of security; drug deals come under security management. That's on you."
He leaned back into the couch defeated, running his hands down his face as he let out a loud sigh. We couldn't remove the two clubs from the plan; we'd end up losing a large amount of profit from paying clientele. The Wall Street men would pay stupid amounts of money for even stupider amounts of cocaine just so they could feel euphoric and invincible on a weekend. My club had a high-end clientele that would pay insane prices. Sinners had the youthful crowd that would take everything else for street prices. The clubs couldn't be taken out of the equation or otherwise, we'd have no profits.
