For a small-ish gang, John and his boys were decently feared and owned many clubs, bars, and cafes. Of course, it was all a huge money laundering scheme, but it was nice to own.

Once a month, John would go around with his right hand, Gaz, and check some of the establishments. Of course, things usually ran pretty smoothly, but it was just to make sure. And partly to keep up appearances.

As John and Gaz entered a little bar, he found the bartender leaning over a table instead of working. "Come on, doll. Me and you, we can have a drink." The bartender was trying to coax a patron. John didn't like it one bit.

"Oi, sod off before you take a swim." John called from the doorway, "Get your manager. Tell 'im Price is here."

John, being ex military, knew that he looked intimidating enough. Still, the threats worked just as well.

"A right tosser, boss." Gaz chuckled.

"Aye." John nodded and patted his shoulder, "Nothing we haven't dealt with."