Addicted 2 Moni

Running the Empire

Anthony POV

< 2 weeks ago — Wednesday, 5:13 PM >

I stand in front of the new warehouse, arms folded, cigar burning slow between my fingers, eyes tracking every move my crew makes. They scatter like roaches, carrying crates, setting up stations. My old spot got too hot—feds, fire, and a couple nosy-ass neighbors. Burned to the damn ground. I ain't even blink. Just moved on.

Cost me a bag to pay off a few dirty cops to cool the heat off my back. Shit's getting tight, but I've always worked best under pressure. They knocked over the wrong empire.

This new location? Bigger. Better. More room for my whole operation to breathe. Hoes work the second floor, money counters grind on the third, and my arsenal? That sits heavy on the main floor. Full load of firepower, military-grade. I still got three floors I ain't touched yet. Plans are coming.

"Boss, we got the packages set up nicely in the lower basement," one of my lieutenants reports.

"Good," I say without looking at him. "Go bring me the girl."

He nods and dips. I watch him walk off, and then turn when one of the girls strolls by, swaying them hips like she tryna collect a tip.

"When you coming to see me?" she purrs.

"I'll be up there real soon," I grin, eyeing her ass as she disappears around the corner.

"GET THE HELL OFF ME!" a voice shouts behind me. I turn and let out a low chuckle.

They dragging her in now—feet kickin', hood still on, wild like an unbroken horse. She damn near bites one of my guys before he clocks her one clean in the jaw and slings her unconscious body over his shoulder.

"You want her with the others?" he asks.

"Nah," I say, eyes cold. "Put her down the hall from them. Separate."

I turn and head toward my office.

"You bastard! You won't get away with this shit!" Solomon screams, wrists tied to the chair, blood crusting the corner of her mouth.

"I already have," I say smoothly, taking a slow seat in front of her. "I practically got everyone else. Your sister, though... she's slippery. Got hands on her, I'll have the full set."

I watch her eyes. She tries not to show fear, but I see the flicker. That's all I need.

"When can we have her?" one of my men asks, eyes locked on Solomon like she's dinner.

"Have me?" she spits, disgusted.

"For now," I say calmly, "just strip her. Nothing more, nothing less."

"No! N—GET—Nooo, get away from me!"

Her screams echo off the cold concrete as I walk out, whistling like I just closed a business deal.

"Boss, we got fifteen new recruits," another one of my men calls out as I reach the top floor.

"How are their skills?" I ask, not stopping.

"Honestly... they need work," he says, lowering his head.

I stop. Turn to him. My stare freezes him in place.

"And what do you suggest?" I ask.

He hesitates. Silence. Wrong answer.

"Speak," I snap.

"Uhh... take them to the roof. For training. Weapons, discipline... you know," he stammers.

"So be it," I nod. "You're in charge. Don't bring me any soft shooters. If one fucks up, that's on you."

"Yes, boss."

I reach for my office door again.

"Boss..." another voice pipes up.

I exhale, already annoyed. "What now?"

"We got a new lineup of females ready to be evaluated by you."

I grin wide, wicked.

"Ain't nothing like fresh street pussy to get your dick wet," I laugh, tossing my cigar to the ground and crushing it under my boot. "Lead the way."