Chapter 37 Verity
Verity
The dress Luna left for me to wear for tonight's private function made the spandex shorts and crop top with the club's logo I'd worn the previous night look positively demure.
I cringed at my reflection in the mirror. The scraps of fabric laughingly called a dress barely covered my tits, and unless I lowered the straps ever further, at which point my nipples would make a bid for freedom, my ass was on show.
Since I barely scraped five-feet-nothing, I felt sorry for any taller women forced to wear this abomination to fashion. Honestly, I may as well have been naked at this point.
"You ready?" Luna yelled through the door as I pulled on the silver shoes she'd kindly left me. At least they fitted.
Luna gave me a brief once-over when I exited the grubby changing room. Loud music sent vibrations through my body as she led me down a corridor and through a metal door I hadn't noticed before.
Once inside the surprisingly large room, the noise from the main part of the club lessened, like this room had additional sound-proofing.
A few men in suits stood around with drinks in their hands while soft music played.
Anticipation hummed in the air. A sense that something exciting was coming.
Something these men had paid good money for.
I stared at the decor while trying to ignore the sensation in my gut that being here was a terrible idea.
While the main part of the club was reasonably high-class and catered to business types, this room was a step up with plush leather seating, subtle lighting, and low-key music rather than dance anthems.
There were several tables, all facing a small stage to the left. Three young women I hadn't seen before worked behind the polished bar at the far end. Like me, they wore skimpy dresses, but unlike me, they seemed comfortable.
Luna led me in that direction. Eyes crawled over me as we walked across the room. When we reached the bar, I watched as a slim blonde poured a glass of premium vodka over ice and handed it to a man in a charcoal suit.
I looked around. All the men in here wore designer suits and expensive watches on their wrists. These weren't normal businessmen. They reeked of money and power.
Clearly, this was no networking event. When men like this congregated in one place, it typically meant bad things were in play.
Luna placed a hand between my shoulders and shoved me forward. I resolved right then that if Ron asked me to work at another private party, I’d turn him down.
"Danica, show the new girl the ropes. The rest of the guests will be here within the hour." Then she turned to me and said under her breath, "Be careful, cara. Ignore whatever you see here tonight." I shivered as she left me to my fate.
The more time I spent in this private function room, the more I wanted to run away screaming. Midnight had come and gone and my feet were on fire. I rarely wore heels, even though they gave me added height. Rarely wore dresses, either.
The older I got, the more I preferred to blend into the shadows, and the best way to do that was by wearing shapeless garments in dull colors.
The silver sequined non-dress draping my curves attracted more attention than I was comfortable with.
More than any woman would be comfortable with unless she danced around a pole with her tits out.
Someone's hand grabbed my butt I as slid past a table of older men, and I resisted the urge to stab it with a fork. The pungent stench of Cuban cigars clung to my skin, leaving a bitter taste in my mouth. I'd need a shower when I got back to the hostel to wash it off.
"More drinks, honey," a gray-haired man barked, his eyes slithering over my chest. The food servers had been and gone. All that remained of the meal were stacks of dirty dishes and a ton of uneaten delicacies. Whatever these men had come here for, it certainly wasn't the food.
My stomach growled ominously, but I pushed through the discomfort and headed to the bar to collect more drinks. Danica cracked open another bottle of tequila and poured more shots.
"The entertainment is about to start," she told me in a low voice, nodding toward the small stage on the left. As I turned to look, the overhead lights dimmed, and the atmosphere changed from inebriated good humor to one of intense anticipation.
What exactly were these men here for?
"Quick, serve them now," Danica urged, shoving the tray at me. "Then get straight back over here."
I took the tray of drinks and headed over to the table that had ordered more tequila. The gray-haired man didn't bother acknowledging me this time. He and all the other men in the room were too busy staring at the stage to notice the servers.
"I hear Avram Marku's back on the scene," a bald man commented to his neighbor as the guy hosting the event stepped onto the stage with a broad smile. Marku. Why was that name familiar? I wracked my brain but got nothing.
"Yeah, he’s here this evening," the second man replied.
The suited man on the stage tapped the mic loudly.
"Gentlemen! So happy you could all join me tonight." The chatter died down amid palpable excitement. I finished unloading my tray and scurried back to the bar.
"Tonight, we have a selection of new toys for you to admire, fresh from our supplier.
If there are any that take your fancy, please do let me know once the show ends, and arrangements will be made as per the usual protocols.
And yes, before anyone asks, we do accept crypto.
" Someone chuckled, although I had no clue why.
"Now, without further ado, let the show begin!" Jesus. This man had a high opinion of himself. He seemed to think this was the Greatest Show on Earth rather than a sleazy room in a shitty nightclub.
"Whatever happens, do not react," Danica whispered in my ear as one of the other girls ducked away behind the bar. "He'll be watching to make sure you don't react. The last new girl lost her shit, and we didn't see her again."
The man in charge - Rafe, Danica had called him - stepped off the stage and took a seat with a group near the front.
Danica's warning rang in my ears as the stage lights brightened and the curtain fell back to reveal a chair. And on that chair sat a young blonde girl, barely 16, if not younger. It was hard to tell with the makeup plastered on her face.
I gasped loudly enough to capture Rafe's attention. He glared my way as Danica gripped my arm and hissed, "Shut the fuck up!"
The brunette on Danica's left ignored us both. She didn't seem at all bothered about the girl on the stage. Instead of watching, she carried on wiping down the bar and loading the dishwasher.
"Why is she here?" I asked Danica in a low voice while schooling my face back into a neutral expression. Rafe's gaze narrowed on me for a few more seconds before someone said something in his ear and he turned away.
"She's part of the entertainment. That's all you need to know."
I swallowed the words I wanted to say and Danica released my arm, apparently satisfied I wasn't about to do anything stupid, like storm onto the stage.
If I was Thea, I probably would have done exactly that, but I had no skills and I wasn't brave enough to attempt a rescue in a room full of dangerous men.
Instead, I had no choice but to watch as two men appeared behind the girl and proceeded to touch her.
Intimately.
She lolled in her chair, eyes glassy and unfocused, as they groped her tiny breasts and pulled her thighs apart so the men at the front of the room could ogle her private parts.
Through it all, a voice discussed the girl's attributes, her purity, and then, once she'd been thoroughly violated and removed from the stage, a different girl appeared.
This one seemed even younger, much to the delight of the perverts in the room.
My stomach churned with nausea, but I concentrated on clearing dirty glasses while listening to snippets of conversation. I wasn't badass enough to do anything crazy, like help these girls, but if I picked up enough information, I could pass it on to Thea.
She wouldn't stand for something like this. Nor would her husbands. All of them abhorred people trafficking in any shape or form. While I was no expert, it was obvious these girls had been trafficked and plied with drugs to keep them quiet.
The door at the rear of the room opened and a balding man walked in wearing a pale gray suit. Instead of taking a spare seat, he wandered over to the bar. Unlike the other men in the room, he didn't seem interested in the twisted 'show' still happening on the stage.
When he reached us, I spotted a tattoo on his neck - a distinctive black scorpion. He half-smiled.
"What do you recommend this time?"
I swallowed hard. This man was more dangerous than I'd originally thought. The fact he was here, in this hellhole of a room, told me he was no normal business man enjoying a night out.
"Cat got your tongue?" he chuckled when I didn't reply.
My legs shook, but I schooled my face into a polite smile. "Tequila?"
On stage, the latest girl cried out, but I didn't look. Thank God the bar hid my lower half from view, as there was a chance I might piss myself given how scared I was right now.
"I prefer vodka. Avram Marku, pleased to make your acquaintance. And your name is?" He held out his hand politely.
I stared at it, noting the scars on his knuckles and the tufts of thick, black hair peeking out from his shirt cuff. My stomach curdled. Nothing wrong with some manly chest hair, but this guy did a good impression of a gorilla.
And why the friendliness? I worked here. None of the other men in this room had talked to me like a person, so why did he give a shit who I was?
"Ah, so shy. Nothing like your sister." He chuckled again, but the predatory gleam in his eyes chilled me to the bone.
"My sister?" Danica slunk off; her self-preservation instincts were spot on. This man was a snake in a suit, and he had me in his sights. Danger emanated from his every pore. And yet he probably wasn't the most dangerous asshole in the room.
"Thea. Such a lovely, vicious girl." His jaw ticked. "My brother, God rest his soul, rued the day he ever agreed to marry the whore. But luckily for your father, you are more aligned with my needs."
"My father?" I repeated, still not understanding. What did Thea have to do with his man, and why was he talking about my father?
"Yes, your father," Marku replied patiently.
He leaned in. "Francesco wants to correct a wrong, and you're my prize.
" He grinned and licked his lips. "I couldn't believe my luck when I saw you in Naples, then poof, you'd gone before I could steal you away.
Taken from me." My heart pounded in my chest, but paralysis had me glued to the floor like a fly caught in honey.
"But now you're back, having once again serendipitously crossed my path. It seems fate is on my side. And also on your father's side, seeing as how he needs you to make things right with me."
None of this made sense. How did he even know my sister? And why was my father working with him?
"My father doesn't want me." He'd never wanted me. Only Thea.
"Oh, I beg to differ. You're valuable to him, my dear, and he's been searching for you ever since he got his lucky break. Looks like tonight is a good night for both of us."
"I don't want to see him!" My voice rose as I ducked around the bar.
The exit wasn't that far away. Nobody would notice if I left.
Danica shot me a sympathetic look, but instead of helping, she disappeared into the stock room.
Not that I blamed her. We'd only met a few hours ago; I hadn't earned her loyalty.
Marku's hand gripped my shoulder, yanking me back when I tried to scoot past him.
All the moves Conal taught me back in Ireland flew out of my mind, leaving behind nothing but a crushing sense of panic laced with defeat.
I couldn't remember anything useful. His lessons had all been for naught.
You're fucking useless, like always. The weakest link, my brain told me.
Declan's voice echoed in my head. He'd warned me returning to Italy was dangerous, yet I'd ignored his advice.
This time, I couldn't rely on the Kelly brothers to rescue me.
The sound of a scuffle broke through my paralysis. Gunshots pinged off the walls and ceiling. Several men dived off their chairs and ran for the stage, while others pulled phones out, presumably to call for backup.
When I looked up, three tall figures stormed across the room, guns in hand. The tallest of them looked like he wanted to murder everyone in this room, including me.
"Let her go," Declan growled as Marku spun around, still gripping my shoulder hard enough to leave finger-print bruises.
Marku scoffed, but his eyes flicked from Declan to the two intimidating men stood nearby with semi-automatic weapons in their hands. "She's leaving with me." He pulled me close enough that I gagged on the sickly stench of his heavy cologne.
"Like fuck she is." Declan moved so fast my head spun. One minute he stood a foot away, the next he had the muzzle of his gun pressed to Marku's throat. "That girl's mine, so let her go or I'll blow your fucking head off."