Chapter 82
FREYA
Tears blurred my vision as he grabbed a fistful of my hair, yanking me to my feet. I bit back a cry, my scalp stinging as he dragged me closer.
“Listen, bitch. You are going to do as I say. You will shut up, go into that room. There will be other girls like you there. They will tell you what to do.”
His words sent shivers down my spine, yet I made an effort to sneer
rat him through the pain. “Do what?” I spat, and my voice was shaking in
defiance
Please our customers, Suck dick. Fuck them,” he said crudely, his grin widening with every twist his face underwent in horror, as he says, “You are a
whore now.“.
The fuck I am!” I shouted, the words spilling out before I could stop them. “Let me go. My boyfriend will come for you, and you won’t like it when that happens!”
The mention of my boyfriend elicited a bark of cruel laughter. The sound was mocking, without any humor to it.
Do you know who this brothel belongs to!” he asked, his voice low and menacing. He leaned in closer, so close I could feel his foul breath on my face. “Do you know who you belong to??
I froze, my lips parting but no words coming out. He must have noticed the fear in my eyes because his grin grew even wider.
“Roman Sanchez,” he said, pronouncing the name as if it was a weapon to destroy me.
My blood turned to ice. Roman Sanchez. The name alone sent shivers into the heart of anyone who heard it. He was the head of one of America’s most notorious organized crime syndicates. Mafia. Ruthless. Untouchable,
“You act like you know who it is, the man said, a thick tone of satisfaction dripping from his voice. “Still think your boyfriend can get you out?”
My legs went weak and I stumbled a linle bit, the weight of what had happened crushing me. How did this happen? How did I end up here, trapped in the claws of the fucking Mafia?
“Please,” I whispered my voice breaking. “Let me go. Please. I won’t tell anyone
“Pleading won’t get you anywhere, baby,” he sneered. His eyes looked lower, his mouth twisting into a curve that made my gut roil. “Only make me hard
“You are disgusting,” I spat, twisting inside at the revulsion.
pulled me toward the structure. I tried to break free, digging my
His smile didn’t falter. “Come on,” he said, his hand on my arm tightening as he pu heels in the ground, but it was useless; he had more strength.
The inside of the building was just as opulent Golden walls, soft carpets, and chandeliers that glistened like diamonds. A place made to blind the eye, to make a person forget the atrocities within.
He pushed me into a room and I fell, almost falling to the ground. My heart sank looking at what was before my eyes. Three other girls looked back
at me.
The man stood in the doorway, a satisfied smirk on his face. “Welcome to your new life,” he said before slamming the door shut.
I stumbled back against the wall, my legs giving out beneath me. My hands shook as I pressed them to my face, tears streaming down uncontrollably. This can’t be happening. This can’t be happening
“Hey, are you okay!” 1 registered a faint voice talking to me.
Her voice was soft but seemed to come from a dream I couldn’t wake up from. My body hurt, and my mind was a swirl of confusion and terror. “No, I’m not fucking okay,” I screamed, unable to keep the fear and frustration bottled up. My voice cracked as I spoke, my chest tightening with the effort to stay coherent.
Oh great, a hysterical one. And why is she bleeding? Where do these homeless people even come from?” Another girl commented, her voice dripping with disdain.
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Her words stung, though I knew she had no idea what Tid just been through. I instinctively wiped at the blood on my mouth with the back of my hand, suncaring it further,
“Amber, don’t antagonize her. Just go, okay?” the previous girl chastised her, her tone firm but calm, like she was used to keeping the peace in
volatile sinutions.
Amber rolled her eyes, moving her perfectly manicured hand to brush hair back that was probably fine, probably, as if the very sight of me was repulsive. “Whatever. I have my client waiting” She strode out of the reception area, another girl behind her whose high heels clicked along the floor like nails on a cottin
The other girl crouched down in front of me, her expression softening. “What happened to you?” she asked, her voice quieter now, almost soothing
Her eyes flickered to the cut at the corner of my mouth, and she reached out liesitantly, her fingers brushing against it with surprising gentleness. “You need to get that looked at
It surprised me by reaching out and touching my skin. It was the first act of kindness I experienced in what felt like centuries, and it made me ache
inside the chest,
I mumbled something under my breath. “I want to go home. I must go home. I have a daughter. The words spewed out from my mouth like a prayer, but I wasn’t sure who I was imploring.
“So why are you here?” she asked, confusion lacing her tone.
“I don’t know. God” The frustration erupted again, tears pricking at the corners of my eyes. My breathing was erratic now, my chest heaving as I tried to hold back the sobs threatening to break free.
“Stop. You are hyperventilating. Just breathe”
Her voice was steady as she pulled me down with her. Coolness of the wall pushed against my back as I sank to the floor; her hand rested lightly on my shoulder. I listened to the rhythm of her breathing and tried to make mine follow until my breathing came more steadily.
When my head stopped spinning, I looked at her properly for the first time. She was beautiful–blonde hair falling in soft waves, brown eyes that sparkled with empathy, and skin so pale it seemed to glow under the dim lights. She did not belong here, neither do 1.
Now tell me. What do you mean by you don’t know why you are here?” she asked, her voice low and patient.
“The guy who brought me here… he probably had some deal with my ex. I was kidnapped,” I said, the word tasting bitter on my tongue.
Her eyes widened, her face shifting from curiosity to alarm. “So you’re not here on your own. You were forced.”
“Yes, I confirmed, my voice barely more than a whisper.
What d
the fuck?” she muttered, the words tumbling out as though she couldn’t contain her shock.
The curse felt jarring coming from someone so poised, but it made her seem more real, more human.
“I don’t understand. Roman doesn’t support forcing women into prostitution. The sex workers here are out of their free will. They join consciously because of their own personal reasons and earn good money”
“You’re here because you wanna be here?” I asked, incredulous.
“Yes,” she admitted. “Well, this isn’t exactly anyone’s dream job. But my sister… She had cancer. We had little savings and no insurance. I needed a lot of money quickly, so I came here.”
Her words hung in the air, leaving no room
om for de
defensive rhetoric, instead, quiet resignation defined her tone.
“How is your sister now?” I asked, though I could feel the answer,
Oh, she died. Her voice cracked just slightly, a tremor of emotion breaking through her calm exterior. “I couldn’t save her.”
“You’re still working here, I pointed out, the words coming out harsher than I intended.
“Yeah,” she said with a shrug, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “I went to college. I completed my studies, but I didn’t get the time to get a job. Now I don’t have any confidence left I’m afraid that if I walk out of here, I won’t be able to find a job and starve to death.”
“Besides” she said with a faint smile playing on her lips, “it’s not so bad here. Roman is a good boss.
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I scoffed at this as t
as the bitterness began rising once more in me. “Yeah, I’m here against my will, so“
“I highly doubt that,” she said, nodding with a thoughtful expression “Lucas is the guy who brought you into this mess; he is a total prick. This must have been his totally doing
“Wait,” she said, her voice suddenly changing. “I can help you.”
“How?”
“Roman’s right–hand man comes here every Friday. Today’s Friday, which means he’ll be here. I can get him to inform Roman about you.”
I couldn’t smother the flash of hope that rose in me, but another thought crossed my mind. “What will it cost you?”
“Nothing I haven’t done before,” she replied, her voice steady, though her eyes betrayed a flicker of weariness. “I’ll tell them to leave you alone for the night and that you’ll start working from tomorrow, okay?
I nodded, my throat too tight to speak. Gratitude and guilt warred within me as we sat in silence for a few more minutes, the quiet only broken by the distant hum of voices and music.
“What would you have done if you weren’t doing this?” I asked, desperate to keep the conversation going, to distract myself from the nightmare ! was living.
“Fucking big fat men with limp dicks” she said, a bitter laugh escaping her. “I don’t know, maybe I would work in a flower shop. Open one of my own one day.
She smiled at me as she said it, her eyes softening as the thought of a dream that seemed impossibly far away crossed her face. I could hardly answer before the door creaked open, and another girl popped in her head.
“Sebastian is here,” she said. The blonde girl nodded at her then back at me. “That’s him,” she said, standing up to smooth down her dress.
She stood at the door, then turned to look back. Til get you out,” she said firmly, before disappearing from view, leaving me alone with the faint echo of hope and the suffocating weight of uncertainty
