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I shook my head, like that might be enough to dislodge his voice.

It wasn’t.

It never was.

All I could do was plaster a fake smile on my lips and pretend that I wasn’t dying inside.

“Okay, ladies,” I called, clapping my hands together to get their attention. They all turned their scared, tired eyes towards me, looking at me with something akin to hope. Like I had answers. Like I wasn’t just another woman who learned how to endure. “We know what today is. It’s the monthly rally for the Riders. That means members from up and down the country will be coming here to participate. And it’s your job to keep them happy.”

Keep them happy…

The words sat heavy on my tongue. We all knew what that meant.I fucking hated that I had a part in this. That these ladies saw me as some sort of mistress. I had even heard some of them whisper that I was a trafficker. And, I guess, they weren’t wrong.

Not one of them was here because they wanted to be. These women were desperate, they had fallen on hard times. They were familiar with the club either because they had bought drugs from one of the runners, or they were one of the working girls on the streets.

Nico had selected each and every one of them, knowing there would be no one looking for them if things went wrong tonight. And there was a high chance that things would go wrong.

I’d heard the women whispering about me. About what happened behind the closed doors of Nico’s bedroom. About the girls who never left, and how I never intervened.

And they all knew they could be the next girl on that bed. The next girl to never return.

And I would be the witness.

I was as much to blame as Nico for the fate they were about to endure. The difference between me and Nico didn’t mean much from where they were standing. But I couldn’t help them. Kindness gets noticed here. And anything that gets noticed gets punished.

I knew that better than most, and I still had the scars—both physical and mental—to prove it.

“What will we need to do?” one of the women called out to me.

“Whatever is asked of you,” I replied, forcing a happy tone to my voice.

A few of them shifted. One shook her head, just slightly, like she was trying to deny what she’d already understood. One of them—young, too young—kept watching me like she was tryingto memorise something. Like if she studied me hard enough, she might figure out how to survive this.

Nico usually had something on each of these women. Whether it be withholding their supply. Whether it be threatening to leak information to their families, or simply “demoting” them on the streets—it was common knowledge that some areas in the Rider territory were safer to work than others.

It didn’t matter what the reason was. It only mattered that they were here, and they all knew they had to do what was asked, or else things would be infinitely worse.

I kept my voice steady, even when theirs shook. Because, like it or not, this was my job now.

“It is an honour to be picked by one of the patched members. To begin with, all you will need to do is dress the part. Make sure your outfit, your hair, and your makeup is maintained to the highest standard. Stay away from any alcohol. Make eye contact, cater to their needs. Eventually,” I swallowed heavily,a dozen memories flashing behind my eyes—hands, voices, the weight of being held in place.

“Eventually one of them will take the lead, and they’ll show you what they want from you.”

“And what if—”

“You never say no,” I spoke up, interrupting whoever had attempted to speak. “There may be things happening tonight that make you uncomfortable. That push you to your limits. But you do not say no. Remove that word from your vocabulary. You can recover from whatever they do. Dead women cannot. Make that your mantra, repeat it to yourself.” I said, the words tasting like ash in my mouth.

“And what will you be doing?” one of the women spat at me, her lips curling in disgust.

“I will be by Nico’s side. Where I belong,” I said, the lie smooth and practiced, meeting her eyes and hoping that sheunderstood. Hoping that she recognised that I was as lost here as they were. That my choices were taken just as theirs were.

The threat of Nico hung heavy behind every word I spoke. He didn’t need to be in the room. He never did. He was in every decision I made.

He had seen to that—carefully, deliberately, piece by piece.

I drew in a slow breath, letting my gaze move over them again. Counting. Assessing. The same way I had been taught.

“Pair up,” I instructed, gesturing towards the open space. “You’ll practice approach first. Nothing else matters if you get that wrong.”