The Don's Wife

5 | Sneak Attack

Colorful strobe of lights projected from the center of the hall, flickering continuously in the dark room. The DJ, high on molly, drowning the whole club with his deafening beats. Crowds gathered around the dance floor, swaying their sweaty bodies against each other while the strippers bent and spun theirs against the poles. Right across the hall, I spotted Reggie by the bar, pouring drinks while flirting at every chance he's got.

Just another busy night at Euphoria.

"Well, well.. If it isn't the hubby. Where's the wifey?" Reggie winked and teased.

"Where's Fischer?" I asked curtly.

As he caught on that I was not here for entertainment purposes, he disposed of his playful manner instantly. "He's in VIP 1."

Without wasting time knocking, me and my men barged inside to find the fucker in the middle of a cocaine orgy with his whores.

"Yo, what the fuck?!" Fischer bellowed before he realized who stood before him.

"B- Boss?" As if he'd just seen a ghost, he quickly unplug his dick out of the whore's pussy and shoved her away in sheer panic.

"I– I'm sorry boss, I didn't know you were coming." Still in a state of panic, he sloppily put on his pants and buttoned up his shirt to look the least bit presentable. Which he's still not. He still looked like shit.

Then again, shit will always be shit.

"Fuck, it reeks." Micah pinched his nose and grimaced.

He's right. The room did reeked of cocaine and sex in a terribly nauseating way. But not for long.

"The fuck you all still doing here?! Party's over, now scram, get the fuck out of here!" Fischer waved his hand in a shooing gesture, and the whores hurriedly picked up their scattered garments and scurried out the room.

"Sorry about that boss. So what brings you here?" He said in a sheepish grin.

He probably didn't mean to demeaned me, but my foul mood said otherwise. "Well I'm the owner, why shouldn't I be here?"

Seeing my dour expression made him realized that he might've chosen the wrong words, so he quickly revised it. "No of course, I ain't mean it that way at all. It's just that you usually informed me about meetings."

"No meetings, I only came to check in on my devoted employee." I smiled and placed my hand on his rounded shoulder.

Sighing a breath of relief, he regained his smug self. "If that's the case then there's nothing for you to worry about boss. I've got it all under control. Every night packed with people, sales went off the roof, a view minor fights here and there but nothing that we couldn't handle. All smooth sailing."

"Good." I nodded in approval. "And what about the rat problem?" I brushed off the remnants of powder left on the sofa before I plopped myself down.

"Rat? Boss?" Fischer asked, looking all clueless.

"Yes, a rat. Recently I discovered that there's a rat hiding under this roof, a rotten one at that." The word 'rotten' got me side-eying the stupid fucker.

"A rotten rat that's been nibbling on my fucking cocaine." Taking that as a cue, two of my men, grabbed both of Fischer's arms from behind, putting him into an arm lock.

"What are you–argh!" Before he could protest my men tightened their grip and kicked him in the knee pits, bringing him down kneeling on the floor.