I deal with highs and lows, but somehow, I end up making the best of it. My family disowned me, but family is the reason why I’m in Vegas. Even with my inability to think straight, I end up being in charge of a bunch of runaway mental patients. Hence, The Asylum. A sanctuary for lost causes. Where crazy can roam free, and compulsions can be let loose. My nephew says as long as it stays at The Asylum, we won’t have problems. What fun would it be if problems didn’t exist? And my problem is in the shape of a dancer, twirling on the front lawn in the middle of the night.

This is a new start. A clean slate for not just me or Scarlett, but for everyone else that’s trusted me to make their life better. Deciding to keep the Atlantic City chapter name was the right move. Not only is the weight of the members on my shoulders, but the immense responsibility of proving ourselves to the city. I need the community to accept us, to come to us when we need help, and most importantly, I don’t want them to fear us. But it isn’t going to be easy. 

Listen to Book 1 in A Ruthless Underworld Novel series today.

I see her differently now: my friend, Michelle Douglas. It's the summer of 1994, where the love of the '80s still holds on for dear life. She's wearing a black ACDC shirt that hangs over the shoulder, and she is hanging out with a group of friends. I don't know what it is about her right now, but in this moment, everything has changed for me. Everything about her calls out to me. I think it always has. It always will. Her love isn't easy to get, but I'm determined to get it. There's one problem. She's promised to another.

We’ve been traveling all over the country, recruiting new members for our club. Before we call it quits, we make a pitstop in Las Vegas. I’m owed a debt, and I’ve come to collect. It’s been awhile since I spoke to the president of the Ruthless Kings. And I’m calling in my marker. I figured I’d ask for cash, maybe a few new recruits, arms-dealer networks, but he said no. That’s fine. But then I set my sights on her. A blonde bombshell. Yeah, she’s mine.