King of the Underworld by RJ Kane

Chapter One

Sephie

I hear my wh*te noise app cut off on my phone and my alarm slowly getting louder. I wait for the chiming bells to stop before I roll over and hit the screen. With a deep breath, I muster the energy to get out of bed and drag myself to the shower.

Another glorious day in the life of waiting tables. I stop myself from skipping to the shower I’m so excited at the prospect of being yelled at by angry customers again today. People are just cranky lately.

After my shower, I make myself a quick breakfast, even though it’s late afternoon. Working the late shift means I miss the normal breakfast time, but let’s be real. Bacon can be enjoyed any time of the day.

Once the dishes are done and washed, I grab my keys and my bag, locking the door on my way out. I live by myself. It’s maybe not the best neighborhood, but all my neighbors are really nice, and we keep an eye on each other. When I turn around after locking my door, I see Mr. Turner walking up the steps to his apartment across the hall from mine.

“Hello, Miss Sephie. Going anywhere exciting?” He’s slowly climbing the stairs, with his groceries in hand. It’s Thursday, after all. Mr. Turner always stops by the grocery store on his way home on Thursdays.

“Hi, Mr. Turner. On my way to work. How was your day? Have any excitement at the hotel today?”

“No, not today, but I’m thankful for boring days, if I’m being honest.”

Mr. Turner worked the door at the most expensive hotel downtown. He’s been the doorman for 32 years and knows every single influential person in the city as a result.

days give you more time to find my Mr. Perfect, right? I

sets his groceries down to unlock it. “Don’t you worry,

the help I can get. Have a great night, Mr. Turner. I’ll see you in the morning and as always, if

lingers as I jog down the steps to the parking lot. Having great neighbors really can

I grumble to myself as I am forced to park farther away from the building now. I am nothing, if not a creature of habit. Not getting my normal parking space means this is going to be a rough night. Hooray

out of my car, I notice the storm cl*uds slowly rolling in. Inhaling deeply, I breathe in the

that all the crime bosses in the city meet at this restaurant to discuss “business.” They reserve the back room and request that I serve them each time. I don’t know if it’s because I’m quiet, keep my head down most of the time, or if it’s because I can remember what each boss likes and doesn’t like, but they always request me. They always give me a fantastic tip, so it makes having to wait on known criminals somewhat manageable. Their tips are single-handedly funding

you coming inside or are you just going to stand by your car with your eyes

say as I run to catch up to him. Max is the bartender and has his own fan club of women that come to the restaurant solely to be served drinks by him. His drinks aren’t special. He’s even admitted to watering down their drinks most

on top. He said the women loved slightly longer hair these days, so he was conducting market research to see if longer hair got him more tips. Max had a boyish charm

before the meeting tonight?” he teased

was trying to find the strength not to smack you, a-h*le,” I laughed as I walked

“Oh. You wound me.”

I look at my watch to see how long we have before the bar opens. From Thursday to Sunday, the women flock to