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“I have to do this alone, Mia. For you. For all of us.” My resolve hardens, fueled by the thought of my sister’s dreams being snuffed out before her life has even begun.
I walk back out, taking the business card my father is holding toward me. Drawing in a deep, steadying breath, I take out my phone and punch in the digits on the card.
With each ring, my heart races, threatening to burst from my chest. “Velvet Whisper, Vincent speaking,” comes the answer, his voice smooth and laced with a soft Italian accent.
“I… My name is Amelia North,” I start, my voice trembling despite my best efforts to sound composed. “I was given this number, told to call about—”
“Ah, Amelia,” Vincent interrupts, a warmth creeping into his tone that doesn’t quite reach his words. “I’ve been expecting your call. You’re making a brave choice, helping your family like this. A car will collect you at nine. Be ready.”
The call ends before I can say anything else. The room feels colder, the walls pressing in with the weight of what I’ve just set into motion.
“A car will be here at nine,” I inform my parents, the words tasting of bile.
Dad steps forward, his eyes glistening with a mixture of gratitude and joy. “You’re saving our lives, Amelia. You’re saving your sister,” he says, enveloping me in a hug that feels like a goodbye.
The reality of my decision settles around me like a shroud. I’ve agreed to sell a part of myself, a piece of my soul, for the safety of my family. The debt, a monster in the shadows, now has a face, a name, and a price.
“I better get changed.”
As I pick a dress, the reflection in my bedroom mirror shifts. The façade of confidence is there, practiced and polished, but beneath it, there’s a girl on the verge of losing herself to the darkness.
I practice a smile, a tilt of the head, anything to appear composed, desirable even. But the act feels hollow, a poor imitation of the woman I need to be tonight.
Five minutes before nine, I’m outside, shivering as a limousine pulls up. The back door swings open automatically, and I look back at our apartment block, wondering if my parents are looking down.
I’m doing this to save us.
* * *
I’m enveloped by soft leather seats as I climb into the car. The driver is silent, my thoughts my only company as we drive towards the Velvet Whisper, towards a fate that feels both inevitable and impossible.
In this moment of solitude, I find myself wishing for a savior, for someone to pull me back from the brink.
I think of Rafael, my enigmatic boss, wondering fleetingly if he might appear, grab me from the car, and tell them all this is not happening. But the fantasy is crushed by the weight of my reality.
When the car pulls up to the club, the door swings open again. I step out, my heels clicking on the sidewalk. Hesitantly, I approach the main entrance, only to be stopped by a burly doorman with a look that’s anything but welcoming.
“Name?” he asks, his voice gruff.
“Amelia North.”
“Side door, down that way.” He points dismissively, his attention already shifting to the next arrival.
Following his directions, I find myself at a less grandiose entrance, marked only by a small, unassuming sign.
The door opens before I can knock, and I’m greeted by a man whose age is betrayed only by the silver in his hair, his demeanor exuding a calm authority.
“Miss North, welcome to the Velvet Whisper,” he says, his voice smooth. “I’m Vincent, the owner and auctioneer for the evening. Come with me.”
He leads me through the backstage area of the club. He talks as he walks. “The auction will take place in the main hall. You’ll be presented on stage, and the bidding will commence.
“You will receive a percentage of the final price. It’s quite generous, I think you’ll find.”
He pushes open a door to a dressing room filled with other women, each seemingly more confident and beautiful than the last.
They carry themselves with an air of assurance I can’t begin to muster, their laughter and chatter a stark reminder of my own isolation.
“I’ll leave you with Emily to get changed,” he says, pulling the door shut.
