"You got it, bossman," he said with a nod of his head, working his jaw a little. He'd be lying if he said that the thought of violence, of maybe having to bust a few heads to get people in line, didn't get his dick hard; it was one of those things he'd been born to do. Like the hall monitors in elementary school who you knew were going to grow up to be cops.
Mike gave Belli a smile, the one that got free lap dances from the strippers. Mike had that charm about him, a serpent in the grass who never bothered to try and hide his scales. There was something to be said for someone so up-front about doing bad things for a hobby and a living, though.
"I'll report in as often as you want, sir. They know I'm coming?"