Chapter 23 Alex
Alex
Isulk in Sophie’s apartment for three days, splitting my time between her bed and her couch. The skin of my face has dried up from my tears, a feeling that is unfortunately familiar to me. I slump into the bathroom to pee, but my reflection in the mirror while I wash my hands makes me wince.
My face is red and splotchy; my eyes bloody. My hair has divided itself into greasy, tear-stained clumps. The sight fills me with dread. I’ve let a man do this to me once. Turn me into an empty shell of a person. I thought I was better now.
I inhale a deep breath into my lungs, filling my head with determination.
With frantic speed, I pull the clothes off me, desperate to wash away the evidence of my pitifulness.
In the shower, I scrub my hair and skin, like I’m trying to scrub away the hurt I’m feeling.
My plan doesn’t work, but the scent of the floral shampoo invading my nostrils fills my chest with something akin to hope. I can get through this.
I wrap myself in the biggest towel I can find and order a salad over my phone.
My diet of ice cream and chocolate is hardly sustainable, and I need to get some nutrients in me, STAT.
Getting myself dressed still feels like doing too much, so I grab the food in my towel and eat the salad on the couch.
I crunch on the lettuce and chicken while contemplating the same thoughts I’ve mulled over a million times for the last three days.
Leon found out my real name before I could tell him myself. He sees that as a horrible betrayal because I somehow kidnapped his brother? And Sophie was involved?
Him finding out my real name is the only thing that is even slightly plausible. He is a powerful man, after all. I don’t doubt that he can hire an investigator. A ball of disappointment lodges itself in my throat knowing he had so little faith in me, but I ignore it.
Still, the other part? The kidnapping of his brother? Sophie? It doesn’t make sense.
My brain receiving some actual food, a pretty obvious idea forms in my mind.
I grab my phone and type Leon Petrovic into the search bar.
First thing that pops out are photos of Leon in a tux, attending different social events.
Tears form in the corners of my tortured eyes.
Even though he’s devastatingly handsome, all I see is his face while he was spewing hate at me.
Just to torment myself further, I click through the photos, searching for female companions.
I find none, and a relieved breath that has no business escaping me — escapes me.
I scroll down past the pictures, clicking on different articles.
Most of them boast about his casinos and his business skills, sharing his recent acquisitions.
If the articles are to be believed, he’s one of the most influential business owners in the city.
There’s a picture of him with other notable entrepreneurs, as well as the mayor.
I stumble upon an article announcing the death of his father.
My skin prickles, remembering the night he talked about losing both of his parents.
There are three men in the picture, and the caption states, “Matej Petrovic will be deeply missed by his two sons, Leon and Luka.”
The brother. There’s no mistaking that the men are family. The three of them are all very attractive, with sharp jawlines, thick hair and dark eyes. Leon’s brother looks like a more rugged version of him, his suit not fitting him fully.
Using the advanced Google skills all women possess; I do a deep dive into Luka Petrovic.
There are far fewer photos of Luka than there are of Leon, and he poses in none of them.
Unlike Leon, who is always perfectly styled, Luka dresses mostly in black combat gear.
It’s obvious the two brothers are different, both in style and personality.
I wish I asked Leon more about their relationship when I had the chance.
Eventually, I find an article mentioning Luka starting in his brother’s footsteps and buying a club. A sex club, to be exact. My cheeks heat. What the hell is a sex club?
My next search happens in incognito mode and shows me there’s an entire world I’ve been missing. Not that I’m particularly interested in visiting a sex club, but it’s still weird to know there are places out there where you can have sex in front of everybody, and I had no idea they existed.
Luka’s sex club is here in the city, maybe a twenty-minute ride from here. I couldn’t tell you the time of day if you threatened me, so I check the time on my phone, realizing it’s eight pm on a Friday.
In the span of a second, I make my decision. With newfound purpose, I dig through my suitcase, looking for an outfit.
What does one wear to a sex club?
One more internet search later, I’m extracting a dress from the pile of my clothes.
It’s a tight-fitting maroon dress that is just sexy enough without being too revealing.
I put on some blush and mascara, pairing it with a deep red lipstick.
My eyes are still glossy from crying, but this—this feels better.
I look good, and I finally have a plan. What more could a girl ask for?
Half an hour later, I say goodbye to my rideshare driver and exit the silver Hyundai in the parking lot of the club.
The streetlight flickers, giving the street an eerie feeling, and I clutch my trusted purse closer to me. The club is a single-story freestanding building, pretty much in the middle of nowhere. Inhaling deeply to steel myself, I make my way to the entrance. A burly bodyguard waits outside.
“ID?” he asks, sounding disinterested.
I pull my fake ID from my purse, careful not to show my gun. Fuck, I hope he doesn’t search me. He checks the ID and gives it back to me. I shoot him a nervous smile.
“Phone?”
My eyes widen at his request. He wants my phone? What if I need to call for help?
Who would you call, Alex? The police? My inner voice snickers, and I hand my phone to the bodyguard.
The only person I would call for help is missing, which is precisely why I’m here. But instead of taking my phone, he grabs a small black sticker from a bar table next to him and sticks it over the camera.
“No cameras allowed, and two drinks maximum.”
I nod profusely, making my way inside as he lets me through. A breath of relief exits my lungs, but the next one gets stuck in my throat. My eyes trail the dimly lit room, exploring every detail.
What would Sophie have in common with this place? Or with the person who owns this place?
The maroon leather booths are old and weathered, but the dark wood bar looks brand new.
It’s still glossy and polished, missing the signature marks that bars get with time.
The mirror behind it is slightly chipped, though.
The place is not empty, but a few heads still turn to the entrance as I walk in.
No one is naked, thank God, but I’m still overdressed.
The men sport mostly casual clothes, jeans and polo shirts, with a few button-downs strewn around.
The women are in skirts or dresses, but more like bar hopping mini skirts than dresses like the one I’m wearing.
I make my way to the bar to escape the limelight and sit my overdressed ass on a stool. The bartender approaches me instantly, shooting me a warm smile. She’s beautiful, with shoulder-length blonde hair and a petite but curvy stature.
“You’re new here,” she says, and it’s not a question. I dip my head. “Oh, you’ll do just fine. What can I get you?”
Drinking probably isn’t the best idea, but I guess one drink for courage wouldn’t hurt. “Cranberry vodka, please.”
“Coming right up.” She turns around and makes quick work of mixing my drink. A male customer wolf-whistles at her, but she just rolls her eyes.
“Thank you,” I say as she places the drink in front of me.
“You’re welcome.” Someone close to me asks for a beer, so she turns over a glass and grabs a beer bottle from the fridge, popping it open. “What brings you to our neck of the woods?”
This is my chance. “A friend recommended this place. Maybe you’ve seen her around?” I take a sip of my drink, trying to downplay the importance of her answer. “She has long brown hair, brown eyes, and doesn’t really wear makeup.”
“Does she have a name?” She uses a rag to clean the spilled counter.
“Sophie.”
Her arm stops mid-motion, her eyes staring at a single spot. “You say she’s a friend?”
“Actually, she’s my cousin. But also my best friend.”
She nods, biting the inside of her bottom lip before speaking. “Sorry, I don’t know her. I’m Nina, by the way.”
“Alex.” We shake hands, but I’m left feeling empty. By her reaction, I’m pretty sure she knows something, but she obviously doesn’t want to share.
I take a sip of liquid courage and decide to go for it. Squandering the first chance of getting some actual information after all this time isn’t an option. Nina seems kind, and maybe she just needs a little push to tell me the truth.
“Look…The truth is, Sophie is nowhere to be found. I can’t get in contact with her, and she hasn’t been home in a while.
It’s not like her to do that, and I’m worried.
Maybe this is the wrong place to look for her, but it’s the only option I have.
Sophie is my only family, my best friend.
I just want to know she’s safe.” The words spill out of me in a single breath.
Once again, Nina stops mid-motion, this time grabbing a glass. She pauses for a second, then sighs and looks both ways before speaking.
“You should stay. Have another drink.” Her words are casual, but her focused gaze sends me a different message.
I get the message loud and clear. “Sure. I’ll have another drink.”