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“He’s wanted by the famiglia. It’s imperative that I find him ASAP and any help would be greatly appreciated.” I don’t want to scare them, but I also know that someone in here knows him.
The girls start to whisper again, and Ginger glances at me nervously. I walk over to her, motioning for her to step into one of the changing rooms with me.
“Ging, do you know anything about the man we’re looking for, Boris, or have a client that matches his description?” I make deep, unsettling eye contact with her, hoping that I don’t have to use stronger methods to make her talk.
“No,” she answers, shaking her head.
“I wish you wouldn’t lie to me. Garrix already told me that one of you is an informant to The Brigade. Some may say that’s treason against Nuova Notte, but I’m willing to let that discretion slide if you can share what you know…”
“It’s not like I wanted to give the guy information. He told me if I didn’t cooperate, he would show my mother pictures of me dancing. She’ll kick my ass onto the streets if she finds out this is how I’m helping to pay the rent.”
He shouldn’t have been able to get photographs of her to begin with. We have a strict no phones policy here, and I’m wagering that JC’s negligence in enforcing the rules had something to do with this.
“I can make that threat go away, no problem. Just tell me everything you know.”
She sighs, then tells me everything she knows about Boris. He’s in his mid-forties and comes by the club every Tuesday, Thursday, and Friday nights. Ginger is the only dancer he’ll request a dance from, and often he’ll pay more for other private services. He and a few other soldiers are on an assignment they can’t talk about that’s based in Manhattan.
Luckily, today is Friday.
“Did any details about the job stand out to you?”
Her face wrinkles in disgust. “They talk in Russian and English and sometimes they’re so drunk that they forget what language they’re speaking. They said something about butchering up pigs and making a stuck up little piggy squeal. It didn’t really make a lot of sense.”
That could mean a few different things. They may be dealing with a traitor, or someone who ratted a Yedinstvo member out to the cops, or a rival mob. Or they’re abusing actual pigs, which is just plain sad.
“After I fix this blackmail issue for you, I don’t want you informing for The Brigade anymore. You’re going to work for me. We can work out payment later. If anyone ever tries to blackmail or hurt you again, you let me know. This is the one and only chance I’ll ever give you. You know what happens to people who cross me.” I put my hands on my hips, and my gun peeks out from under my leather jacket, gleaming in the low light. It’s a subtle threat, and hopefully she picks up on it.
“We all watched you beat the shit out of that guy last week for touching Glitter, it was epic. We talk about how badass and scary you are all the time. Thank you for not shooting me on the spot.”
“When he comes in tonight, I want you to go about your normal business. Expect company, though.” She gives me a shaky nod as I leave the dressing room.
I find Garrix sitting in an armchair, scrolling through his phone. In a room full of half-naked women with nipple pasties and thongs who seduce men for a living, he’s nose deep in a round of some matching game.
“Bored already?” I sit on the arm of the chair, watching him match shapes, well on his way to leveling up.
He closes out the app before putting his phone in his pocket. His arm wraps around me, pulling me onto his lap. “I’m not bored now.”
“You’re surrounded by strippers, how could you have been bored?” His hand runs up my thigh, and I smack it away.
“I don’t want to fuck around and stick my dick in strippers, little killer, because I have you. None of them even compare to you.” He kisses my neck and nips at my earlobe, then whispers, “None of them are kinky, naughty girls who’d pull a knife on me in public.”
I rub my thighs together, desperate to get rid of the ache that turns up every time I’m near this man. Standing up, I move toward the door.
“Come on, let’s grab a drink in one of the VIP rooms and I’ll catch you up on everything.” After we leave, I tell the bouncers to text me when Ginger and Boris start their session and to put them in the second to last VIP room in the hallway.
I take us to the very last one, so we’re right next to them. The inside of this VIP room isn’t like the ones I’ve seen in movies. It’s comfortable, with a black sectional couch and plush red carpet. There’s a champagne bucket with a bottle of Imperial Brut and two glasses on the table. The lights are low, but I can still see the hunger in Garrix’s eyes. He sits on the chaise, kicking his feet up as he purses my body, from the top of my head to my booted feet.
“Have a seat, little killer. Tell me all about our friend Boris.”
I sit on the couch, putting an entire cushion between us. I don’t trust myself around him, because I know as soon as he touches me, I’m going to give in. Fighting him is getting harder, no matter how many times I remind myself why I can’t have him.
He moves down the couch, until he’s right next to me, filling my space up with the faint smell of his expensive, leather and musk cologne. It makes that ache between my thighs so much harder to ignore. He runs his hand through my hair, settling it at the back of my neck.
“He’s coming in tonight, and the bouncers will take him to the room next door. I figured we could drop in with a bang and say hi to our friend.”
He squeezes the back of my neck. “You’re devious, I love it.”
“Also, I need you to take care of whoever is holding blackmail over Ginger’s head. She’ll no longer be working for them.”
