Treasure [h.s]

| 05 - Bank Man |

It's been a few days now since I drove the drunk party girl home after putting her in a hotel room for the night. I didn't even catch her name, I was too busy trying to make sure she didn't get traumatized in my club or aspirate in the bathroom afterward.

I called my lawyer to give him a heads-up in case she decides to sue me for emotional damage or some shit. I don't know why she was crying before we left, but I am fucking loaded, so it wouldn't be the first time someone tried to scam money out of me.

I really didn't do anything to her, I'm not a low-life who has to prey on vulnerable women in order to get myself off. I left right after I put her in the bed and then I met Maggie in my penthouse. She would be able to give a very graphic testimony if I ever needed it.

She works at the front desk of the hotel connected to my casino, and when I first started fucking her, it was just supposed to be a one-and-done thing, but she practically begs to suck me off and I'm not going to turn down a blow job.

She hates it when I walk through the lobby with other women, though. Sometimes I do it just to piss her off because the angry sex she gives me afterward is straight from a porno. She seems to think we're exclusive, but I'm not the type to date, and certainly not with her.

She's good for a fuck but I can't stand to talk to her more than I have to. Bless the girl's skill, but I like feeling her mouth more than I like listening to it.

I'm sitting in my usual spot at the club, a roped-off area on the second level. I can see everything from up here. I'm usually not the one to handle people unless I really need to. I have plenty of guys to sort out fights and drunk chicks, but I don't let anyone handle my associates other than me.

The Treasure Chest is a perfect cover for my real job. It's too easy to launder money under the noses of drunk attendants. It's crazy how much cash flows through Vegas. People get drunk and love spending money on shiny games and fun cocktails.

Not to mention, no one bats an eye at getting paid in a lot of cash.  None of my employees know it's a front, but the creepy shit-faced men that try to grope and grab any flesh they can, certainly know what I'm doing.

I don't like them being in my club, but it's the only place with a big enough basement to store stashes and handle business.

Like Ben, he's frequently a problem and he makes my dancers uncomfortable, but it's either he has access to Treasure Chest or his mommy cuts off my fingers for hurting her son's feelings. I happen to be very good with my fingers, so they stay and so does Ben.

I saw the girl he was going after dancing last Saturday and I even had to ask one of the girls on the couch if she worked here. She and her... not girlfriend... were tearing it up and gathering crowds on my floor.

It doesn't surprise me to see things like that, but it did surprise me to find out that she lives here and that wasn't just a stupid, fun night out. I know the club is new, but I haven't ever seen her here before, or frankly anywhere. I didn't get a good enough view of her partner but she did seem slightly more familiar.