“Well?” he asked, gesturing. “Is it?”
I took another bite, closing my eyes as I chewed. “‘People should come just for the food,’” I said, quoting the movie once again.
“I know,” he quoted right back at me. “But they don’t.”
I opened my eyes and found that he was looking at me. We both smiled.
The truth was, I’d loved that movie not just because it was all about food and eating, but because it was about family and connection. Two brothers working together, trying to create a perfect evening, a perfect meal, in hopes that it might save their restaurant and solve all their problems. In the end, they don’t succeed at their original goal—but in the process, they come to realize how important family really is.
I couldn’t help taking this new, shared connection between me and Stefan as a sign.
Feeling emboldened by this new common ground, and like I’d finally gotten my husband to let his guard down, I figured this moment was the best opportunity I’d have at getting him to talk to me about what was going on at KZM. It was now or never.
I took a sip of wine to give myself some courage.
“I want to talk about the agency,” I told him.
His easygoing smile and relaxed demeanor instantly vanished, his expression gone wary.
“I have a few questions,” I went on. “And I hope you’ll answer them, if you can.”
I held my breath, waiting for Stefan’s response. Finally he nodded—one short, curt nod.
“Come at me,” he said. “I’ll try my best.”
Starting slow, I asked, “I want to know how it started. Not just the agency, but everything that goes along with it. The…” I didn’t know how to say it now that we were having a civil conversation. “The illegal aspect of it,” was what I finally settled on.
Stefan didn’t answer for a long time, taking a slow drink of wine as he considered.
“Are you sure you want to know about this, kitty cat?” he asked me.
Even though I got a little thrill at the use of his nickname for me, I knew that it was also a warning. A reminder about curious cats and the dangers that could befall them.
“Whatever it is, I can handle it,” I said, glad that my voice didn’t waver.
Stefan nodded. “When my father emigrated here from Serbia, he had a job waiting for him, something to do with importing. He won’t talk about what kind of work it was, so I’m not sure if he was already into shady dealings, but if I had to guess I’d say it was probably illegal.”
“So when did he start the agency?” I asked.
“The first job lasted a few years, but he had some kind of “professional disagreement” with his boss—probably over something my father did—and he left to start his own business. You think he talks about the talent like they’re a product, and that’s because—to him—they are. He learned about sales and commissions through that first job. The models are just another version of goods, as far as he’s concerned.”
He looked up at me to gauge my reaction. I nodded. “I get it. Not that I agree with it.”
“Yeah. So I have no idea when the agency started offering…additional services. It could have been since day one. Or it could have happened later—I can’t imagine my mother turning a blind eye, and she was smart enough to have figured it out. Maybe it was after she passed.”
Stefan was quiet for a moment, and I inched my chair closer to him.
“Either way, I’ve been aware of it since I was old enough to understand such things. Probably around the time I was eleven or twelve.”
“Wow,” I whispered. That meant KZM had been involved in human trafficking for at least fifteen years. Maybe closer to two decades.
He paused.
“To be clear: we are absolutely a full-scale modeling agency,” he said. “That’s the work I’m mostly involved in. Finding talent, booking them modeling jobs, managing them, contracts.”
I could sense that he was choosing his words carefully, that there were things he still wasn’t saying, but I was grateful (and surprised) that he was being open with me at all. So even though I wanted to know more, I didn’t push. It would only shut him down. I was sure of it.
Stefan continued talking shop. He seemed to enjoy discussing how the agency worked, and what his job entailed. It was obvious that he took pride in fostering the careers of KZM’s talent and he said nothing about the sex work that went on—almost as if he was willfully pretending it didn’t exist. I’d bet anything that was how he acted at the office, as well.
