Chapter 4 #2
He laughed, loud and guttural, tossing his head back. Gold glinted at his throat. Merchant class, probably. Wealthy enough to have coin to spare, but not wise enough to keep it in his pockets.
I moved on before he could grab more. Always keep them wanting—that was the trick.
Cordelia’s shrill laugh sounded from the centre of the room.
She was surrounded by a handful of men with hungry fingers and lustful gazes.
I forced my eyes forwards to the bar, wanting to roll them at the simple audacity of her presence.
She was the only female here I couldn’t stand. But she couldn’t stand me either.
I needed a drink—something to cut the burn in my throat.
The cigar smoke had settled thick in my lungs, like I’d swallowed a cactus whole.
Liquor would help. It always did. Take the edge off before the men started sniffing around for one of us to wet their cocks.
Before Kavish gave the signal to move from flirting to earning.
“A shot of liquorice liquor, please.”
The barman nodded in my direction. Thankfully, drink was free for us. The only kindness that Kavish showed, so long as we didn’t make a fool of him.
I turned my back to the wooden bar while I waited, scanning the floor.
Lily was in the corner of the room, sitting on the lap of a man with a round red face.
Even from a distance I could see the fear in her eyes.
It was rare to find kindness and wealth wrapped in the form of a male.
Usually they were rough, and they were stupid—but as long as they paid, we couldn’t complain.
Because if we did, Kavish would see to it the sting of his belt left its mark.
Cordelia—the shrew, as I liked to call her—swayed towards me, her inky curls pinned high on her head.
Rich, red taffeta dusted the ground, her steps silent.
She leaned over the bar, her breasts spilling from her corset—soft flesh pressed high and tight, a promise wrapped in cheap satin. “I’ll have a whiskey sour.”
The server flashed her a grin, his green eyes dancing with desire. I rolled my eyes, ignoring them both, focusing back on the crowd.
I could feel Cordelia’s gaze boring into the side of my head, though I wouldn’t give her the satisfaction of looking at her. Especially when Kavish had his eyes on me from across the room.
“It’s impressive, really, how you’ve built a whole reputation around a hair colour and a pout,” Cordelia crooned, her voice sultry and smooth.
A smirk tugged the corner of my mouth upright, but I kept my gaze ahead, feigning interest in anything she had to say. “And yet here you are—same hair, same pout—still no one remembering your name.”
“Here’s your shot,” the barman called out above the clamour.
My fingers wrapped around the glass as I reached behind me and downed the aniseed taste in one gulp. Flicking my gaze towards the scowling woman beside me, I offered her a grin before swaying back into the sea of figures.
As I threaded my way through the conflux of sweat-coated bodies, heat pooled in the pit of my stomach. I felt cold, brown eyes on me—Kavish. It was that time of night.
Without deigning to look at him, I floated across the room, hips rolling in a smooth sway that demanded attention.
I caught the eye of a gentleman who was holding a whiskey in one hand, and a cigar in the other.
I’d spied him the moment he waddled in, eyes already searching for someone to spend his coin on.
And judging by the way his gaze clung to my dress like syrup, he’d made up his mind.
He’d be my first target. I noted his outfit, and gold-buckled shoes.
He was wealthy, and I was going to seduce every coin out of him.
It didn’t matter that he was bald, round, and twice my age.
I reached his table and leaned towards him, making sure to show off my . . . assets. “You look like a man who appreciates precious stones,” I purred, my fingers dragging across the tabletop suggestively. “Lucky for you, they call me Sapphire.”
He chuckled—wheezed, more like—and stood without a word. I turned without waiting, knowing he’d follow. They always did.
My hand grazed the polished rail as I ascended the stairs, each step a silent echo in the thick perfume and pipe smoke. I didn’t look back.
I didn’t need to.
He entered my room, closing the door behind him.
I motioned to the water pitcher on my nightstand. “You can freshen up over there.”
“Anything for you, Sapphire.” His voice dripped with lust.
Fabric brushing against itself, and belt buckles clinking together sent my mind into another place. Gold coins. The ocean. Freedom. I chanted the words over and over in my mind.
Once he was clean, he faced me, trousers down around his ankles.
I pushed the bile that quickly rose in my throat back down as my gaze caught his hardened erection.
A greyish-purple head protruded from under his silk shirt.
His grin plastered across his face as he lurched towards me, coin pouch in hand.
My insides shrivelled at the sight.
I held out my upturned palm, offering him a sweet smile. “Five gold coins, sir.”
He handed me the payment with a greedy glint in his eye, like he thought it bought him more than time. I tucked the gold away, gave him a slow smile, and stepped back just enough to make him chase.
“You’d better fuck as good as you look, my dear.”
He leaned in—clumsy, eager—and pressed his wet mouth to mine. I let it happen for a breath, just long enough to play the part.
Then I laughed. Soft, teasing, like a secret he’d never be in on.
“Careful,” I murmured, brushing my thumb over his bottom lip. “If you waste all your energy on kisses, what’ll we have left for the good part?”
His round face turned redder, he chuckled, puffed up like a proud goose. I turned, letting the candlelight catch the shape of me beneath the dress, and looked back over my shoulder.
“Well?” I asked, nodding to the laces. “Be a gentleman and help me out of this.”
His stubby fingers fumbled at my back, and I closed my eyes, slipping into the part I always played . . . painted lips, a willing smile, and nothing they could ever really touch.
Pale blue taffeta fell to the ground in a crumpled heap, where it would stay for a handful of minutes. Once I was left in my lacy undergarments, he licked his lips, shoving me onto my bed. I fell backwards just as he clambered on top of me.
I couldn’t do it like that—I never allowed it.
As he squirmed his way closer, I placed my hands on his chest, pushing him with a gentle force. “Would you like to experience a position that I don’t offer very often?”
It was a lie. I always did this—with every client—but he didn’t know that.
He paused, eyeing me like I was a roasted lamb dripping in butter and herbs, like he was going to devour me in one whole bite. “Yes, Sapphire,” his voice was breathless.
The knot in my stomach loosened. It was always easier when they said yes.
Easing him up into a standing position, I flipped so I was laying on my stomach, offering him my ass on full display.
When I glanced over my shoulder his eyes were nearly falling out of his head.
Hunger possessed him in an instant, and his fat fingers pulled my lace bottoms down.
I didn’t even have time to take a breath before he shoved his cock into my warmth.
Gold coins. The ocean. Freedom.
Over and over I rehearsed the words as I stared at the wall in front of me. Time slipped by with every thrust and grunt from the male behind me. Keeping him in this position meant I never had to look at him.
His body slapped against mine, and despite the chill that knocked at the window outside, sweat slicked where our bodies met. My ears rang with muffled moans from the other rooms.
Gold coins. The ocean. Freedom.
I could feel his release building. He was almost there, so I arched my back, offering him deeper entrance. It was all he needed.
With a final thrust, he exploded into me with a shudder and a grunt, his grimy hands gripping my hips as his seed spurted from his cock.
Gold coins. The ocean. Freedom.
Three minutes is all it took. Pretty standard in my line of work.
He pulled out, and I straightened, turning to look at him. “Was that as good for you as it was for me?” I lied. Straight through my teeth.
A grin plastered his round, red face. “Worth every coin.”
By the time the fifth man for the night left, the ache in my legs had settled deep in my bones, and the taste of cheap cologne clung to the back of my throat.
The door clicked shut behind him, softer than the slam I’d been bracing for.
I stood there for a moment, in nothing but my lace bra, listening to the quiet hum of the floor below.
It was over. For tonight, anyway.
The bedsheets were twisted, stained with sweat and perfume and the weight of too many hands. I sat on the edge, elbows on my knees, head hanging low. My hair stuck to my back, all the curls had loosened. My skin still buzzed with touches I didn’t want to remember.
Five.
Five names I didn’t bother to ask. Five transactions. Five different performances.
A cry of horror sounded through the Silver Finch, yanking me from my thoughts. Feet pounded against the wooden floor, shaking the glass vials on my vanity. I didn't wait. I leapt from the bed, grabbing my silk robe from the wooden chair by my dressing table.
I ripped the door open and rushed out into the hall, wrapping the silk around my frame. A few of the girls were gathered outside one of the rooms.
No.
Lily.
I shouldered past the crowd to get to her room. My heart thudded against my ribs, too fast, too loud. Breath hitched—sharp, shallow gasps that wouldn’t fill my lungs.
A sob climbed my throat, begging for release. But I clenched my teeth, biting it back. My hands shook, chest shattering at the sight.
Wide, hazel eyes stared back at me. Glazed. Lifeless. Her limbs splayed around her, motionless, shrouded by the rose-coloured gown I’d only just mended.
Dead. She was dead.