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Sher Singh wiped his bloody hands on the cloth one of his men handed to him. The sound of screams filled the abandoned warehouse he owned. Once his hands were free of blood he grabbed his cell phone to see if there were any calls waiting for him. Seeing three from the women he kept on a regular basis for fulfilling the carnal needs, he deleted them all, turning back to see if his right hand ma, Sumer, had gotten the information he needed.
"Please, make it stop," Gajender, the man bound to the chair, said, whimpering.
Folding his arms, Sher was bored. Why did little shits really think they could mess with him? At thirty-five years old he'd proven to all of the rival gangs that he wasn't to be messed with. He owned girls, drugs, and money. Over the years he'd proven more than once that he wasn't afraid of killing his enemies, or at the least torturing them first. Sher kept a firm hold on everything, making sure no one messed with him. He wasn't a cruel man to people who followed the rules, and he was fair to everyone who were honest with him. Those people who broke the rules and tested him, were then hurt. Sher did warn all of them before he hired anyone.
The front of all of his businesses was his nightclubs. No one looked too closely unless someone died on his property from the drugs taken. Most of the time, Sher got men to dump the body elsewhere. He'd grown up on the streets and knew how the people worked. When there was an economic downturn people sought him out for money, work, or drugs to forget all about the world.
"Where is the money from the drugs, Gajender? I'm not in the mood for your shit," Sher said, still feeling bored.
Gajender whimpered, crying out as Sumer grabbed his hair, yanking his head back.
Blood dripped from GajeGajenderip, head, and nose. His face was black and blue from his and Sumer's punishments. Sher was bored. He hated dealing with addicts, and from the track marks on Gaj's arms, the man was a pricking user.
Not only had he used the material that Sher intended to sell, he'd taken money by also dealing the shit within his club.
"Please, I'm sorry. I'll make it back, boss," Gajender said, wheezing.
It would be more work to take Gajender to the hospital, and then if he squealed to the cops, the work and payoff would be too much money.
"No, you won't make it back. There's nothing you can do." Sher turned to look at Sumer. "Kill him and dispose of the body. I'm done with this piece of shit."
Gajender started to scream and whimper before Sher had even left the building.
Spinning on his heel, he walked outside as the bullet rang out. Pulling out the packet of cigarettes, he took out a smoke and lit it. Inhaling the nicotine he stared up at the night sky contemplating which bitch he was going to take for the night. Providing he had a lot of money, any woman came to his need. He was never short of a girls... Ahem ahem... to fill his carnal needs. All women who threw themselves at him were ahem bazaru; it's what he was taught by his mother . He had yet to meet a woman who was worth more than a passing glance. Sure, the women he dated (ahem...ahem) were beautiful, but they'd been with a lot of men, making them a little too bitter to the world.
Sumer walked out, talking on the phone as he went.
"The disposal team?" Sher asked once Sumer hung up.
"Yeah, we've got to wait for them to arrive. You got a couple of grand on you to pay them?"
Nodding, Sher went to the trunk of the car. Flicking the lock, he opened it up and peeled away the carpet to reveal the small safe he kept hidden. "I've got plenty of cash."
Sumer lit up a smoke and leaned against the car. "He pissed himself again."
"Prick knew he'd done wrong. I'd be more surprised if he didn't." Blowing out a ring, Sher listened to the passing city life. He loved living in the city. There were so many people waiting to plunge down that slippery spiral of life.
"What are you doing for the rest of the night?" Sumer asked.
Sher had met Sumer over thirty years ago. They'd been fighting for the same side against bigger boys who bullied them. As the grew up they became as thick as thieves.Both of them were vicious and had been trained by the same man his mother appointed. After a year of training and working in Sher's family business they had both gone out to make a living for themselves. Now, they were a team, but most of the business was down to Sher. Sumer had a large scar down the side of his neck from a fight gone wrong. His scar put off prospective business partners. They learned long ago that Sher handled the business while Sumer was the muscle. When it was between them, they were friends. Sher would die to save Sumer, and he knew the other man was the same.
Their friendship was the only thing Sher actually cared about after his mother. The money just made life easier, and f**king was fun while it lasted. His friendship with Sumer was cemented. They were a team.
"I was going to meet Sunehri, but the bitch is too busy pissing me off. She wants something more, so I got to stop by the jewelry store and pick her something up. I may use her before I give her the present."
"Cold, boss. Women like being wined and dined."
"Don't have the time. I don't give a crappy about a good meal. If I wanted that, I'd get takeout at a restaurant. The only thing I need is a good woman to make me happy for a couple of hours." He threw his smoke on the ground and stubbed it out with his foot. "Stop calling me boss."
"It's easier to call you that. I'm used to it now. We both know we've only gotten this far because of you. I don't know shit about numbers or business. I can fight. That's all I'm good for."
Sher didn't argue with him. Within the hour the cleaning crew arrived. He dealt with the money and stayed until the body was safely out of his warehouse.
Climbing into the car, he waited for Sumer to drive away.
"Where we going?"
"Take me to the jewelry store you use." Sher rubbed at his temples feeling the need for some sleep. First, he needed to f**k someone. Sunehri he'd f**k and then dump. It would be far easier that way to get what he wanted.
"You go through a lot of women," Henry said.
"Last I checked you were doing all the women that work at the club." Within his many nightclubs Sher also supplied a lot of women for the men looking for some action. He didn't force them, and he made sure they got a good cut of their income. In the beginning he was running the club, doing drugs on the side, and then some women approached him. He couldn't believe a group of women actually came to him for protection so they could conduct their business.
"Hey, they give me what I need, and I give them what they need."
Shaking his head, Sher chuckled. "Can you believe we were just a Maa's gang members over a decade ago?"
"No, I can't, but I sure as hell feel it sometimes. My body knows it has been a punching bag to one too many douche bags," Sumer complained, opening and closing his hand into a fist.
"I know what you mean."
Sher had many scars over his body from fighters who'd pulled a knife on him. Even though even everyone knows not to mess with him it didn't stop men from pulling out a knife.
"Still, I'd rather be living this life than working just working in gang like a lot of young men. At least we've got a choice who we pummel," Sumer said.
"Sure."
Sumer pulled up outside of the jewelry store. Climbing out of the car, Sher headed inside. Glancing behind him, he saw Sumer resting on the hood of the car, lighting up another smoke. "Are you coming in?"
"I don't need pretty shit to get what I want. I'll wait here."
Not bothering to argue with the man, Sher entered the small store. He used the same place all the time to buy his gifts. Most of the time he sent one of the waitresses at the club to get him what he needed and rarely came out to buy shit. Tonight was important. After a quick roll in the sack, he didn't want to have to be dealing with the bitch again.
Once inside, he saw there were only two women on staff. The brunette was talking to a young couple. From the look of them they were getting engaged.
The raven haired he spotted long before the brunette. She was polishing the glass on the display case. Her long raven hair caressed the top of her ass as it cascaded down her back. She wore the same blue uniform salwar kameez as the other woman, and the kameez ended at her knees. The view of her back showed her to be on the plump side, but Caleb always did have a thing for raven haired beauriess. Both women were not overly slender, but the raven haired one was rounder than the brunette. He'd not seen her face yet, but if she repulsed him, he could always put a bag over her head.
Maybe the night wasn't going to be so bad after all.
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