AllFreeNovel
Share Us
She turns to look at me, and there’s the barest glimmer of hope on her face. It hurts to see it—how much she needs this. “What?”
“I still might have a job for you. If you’re interested.”
Mila
After how this meeting has gone so far, I’m afraid to hope. I face him slowly, trying not to allow myself to think that this might end in any way other than leaving here empty-handed, with as few prospects as I had a half-hour ago. “A job?”
Lorenzo nods. “Sit down. Please,” he adds, letting out a sharp breath. His face is tense, and an odd heat ripples through me, wondering if he’s still hard behind the desk.
He wants me. I don’t understand why he turned down my offer. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen a man as aroused as I did a moment ago, when Lorenzo stood in front of me with his hard cock inches from my face. He was huge, thick and straining, and a part of me wanted to see what he had to offer.
A part of me wanted to do exactly what I was offering. To take him in my mouth and find out how he tasted. To see his handsome face tighten with pleasure, and find out the sounds he makes in the midst of it, the way his fingers would feel running through my hair?—
Lorenzo clears his throat, gesturing pointedly to the chair in front of him, and I hurriedly walk over, sinking down into it. I can feel that my face is flushed, and I knot my fingers together in my lap, looking directly at him.
“I can tell you’ve done your research about my family, Miss Ilenya,” he says quietly. “You must have, to know about the Neon Rose. At least a little. So you know, then, what kind of family we are.”
I nod, feeling my throat go tight. “Mafia,” I whisper softly. “Like Alfio.”
Lorenzo chuckles darkly. “No. Not like him at all. Alfio Altiere was an upstart, the son of a mafia man without any real right to call himself don, who took his territory by violence and tried unsuccessfully to keep it through remarkably stupid means. You, my dear, are lucky that you didn’t get caught in the crossfire. Had you decided to stop by his mansion two days earlier—” He shrugs. “Things might have gone differently for you.”
A cold chill runs down my spine. I knew Alfio was a dangerous man, who lived a dangerous life, but I’ve never heard it put quite so bluntly. The reminder is a stark one—and I’ve just offered myself up to a very similar man. A man who says he wants to give me a different sort of job.
“My family has been mafia for generations,” Lorenzo says calmly. There’s a hint of pride in his voice as he says it. His family matters to him, then, in some aspect. I wonder if I can at all use that to my advantage. “And recently, we’ve had an expansion in business. One that might benefit us both, if you’re willing to help with it.”
“What’s that?” My heartbeat picks up pace, beating rapidly in my chest. Whatever he’s going to ask of me, I doubt it’s going to be legal.
“One of our businesses involves selling party drugs.” Lorenzo leans back in his chair a little, looking calmly at me. “MDMA, ecstasy, that sort of thing.”
“That’s illegal.” It’s a nonsensical thing to say, considering our relationship with each other so far, but the words come out before I can stop them.
Lorenzo’s mouth quirks upwards. “So is murder, which you’ve already stumbled upon. I believe trading sex for money is, as well.”
He has a point. I bite my lip. “So you—what? Want me to sell drugs for you?”
“In simplest terms, yes. You work at the Rosebud. Our drugs are already being moved through a variety of other clubs, but I don’t have someone working on the inside in a place like that yet.”
Something about his choice of words stings, just a little. “A shitty strip club, you mean.”
“I wasn’t going to go that far.” His voice is smooth, calm—it seems like he’s regained his composure since my offer. A devious curiosity overtakes me, and I wish I could see him—find out if he’s still aroused. If he’s hiding his desire behind that carefully blank face and silky tone of voice. “But yes, Miss Ilenya. If you agree, I’ll bring you the product when you’re there for your next shift. You’ll be responsible for moving all of it. When you’ve sold it, bring me the cash, and I’ll give you your cut. You’ll receive fifteen percent of the profits.”
My pulse quickens, making me feel faintly dizzy. In some ways, this is worse than what I offered before. Lorenzo isn’t wrong that prostituting myself is technically illegal, but unless he felt like turning himself in for making that deal, the likelihood of my ever getting caught was almost nonexistent. The chances of getting caught selling illegal drugs are much higher.
But I’m out of choices. The profit stands to be good. And I won’t have to fuck someone to pay my bills.
“Twenty percent,” I tell him evenly, meeting his gaze. “And I have things I have to take care of now. I can’t afford to wait until the entire first batch is sold. I need an advance on the first round.”
Lorenzo raises an eyebrow. Please, I think desperately to myself, hoping against hope that he won’t make me beg. I’m so fucking tired of begging.
But this won’t be worth it if it all comes crumbling down before I can see my first payment.
Whatever he sees in my face, he relents. “Twenty percent,” he agrees. “My brother is going to have my hide for it, but?—”
I don’t ask him how that sentence ends. Maybe it’s guilt, that he desires me when he obviously has moral compunctions against taking me up on my first offer. Maybe he has a soft spot for damsels in distress—as much as I don’t want to think of myself in those terms.
“As for an advance—” Lorenzo pauses, clearly making some calculations in his head. “This should do it.” He reaches down, unlocking a drawer in his desk, and I hear a rustle. A moment later, he hands me a thin stack of bills—all fifties. Eight of them.
Four hundred dollars, to start. Enough to catch up my utilities. A relief washes through me that makes me forget all about the danger that I’ve just agreed to. “This is clean?” I ask, reaching for the money.
