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“So when do we take her?” he asks.
“Immediately?”
His lips curve up into a grin. “We have a meeting with Rostam tomorrow morning. Can you be ready? He needs to get the husband to sign her over.”
“You know that I can,” I say.
The husband is not going to sign her over. I have a feeling some shit is going to go down with that stipulation. This asshole is using her for sex, he’s not going to just hand her over.
He dips his chin, his eyes searching mine. He doesn’t say anything right away, his gaze focused on my own as if he’s trying to read me, trying to find something. What, I’m not sure of. Looking straight ahead, I watch as the club starts to fill with men.
It’s still fairly early, but this club is the only one of its kind and men are beyond excited every weekend for a taste of the forbidden.
Sliding my tongue along my bottom lip, I turn to Osip. I can tell by the way he’s taking everything in downstairs that he’s impressed, which I’m glad, because I told him I would make this work and I have.
“Do you think that we could make a deal with Rostam for women? You said you needed more, right?”
“I only have women who are here on a voluntary basis,” I say, reminding him of his own demands.
He nods his head, clearing his throat before his attention leaves the club floor and shifts to me. “I’ll talk to Rostam. What is the difference if their women whore for one man and are under his complete control or make an actual living whoring for many men?”
My brows rise and I have to admit that he has a point. What is the difference? Seems like the same shit to me. I don’t know if a woman would see it that way or not, but who the fuck knows. Shrugging a shoulder, I look to my shoes, then lift my gaze back up to meet his.
“They must be eighteen,” I say. “I would prefer even a little older. Twenty-one.”
“I’ll make sure to tell Rostam that. You’ll be in on the meeting, so if I forget, then make sure you tell him. It’ll all be laid out in the contract.”
“Then yeah,” I say. “I would never turn down more willing bodies. I wouldn’t think that it was something Rostam would agree to though.”
Osip shrugs his shoulder before he clears his throat. “No clue what the fuck people will agree to. He’s not supposed to be drinking and doing drugs either, yet he has no issue selling dope and trafficking it. So, I would guess this wouldn’t be too much of a problem either.”
The rest of the night is pretty calm. Nothing major happens. I’m glad for it. I need a bit of relaxation before the storm. A storm that I’m sure will be headed my way come tomorrow. A storm that I have no idea what the outcome will be, and when it will begin. I have a feeling that whatever comes my way, it’s going to be from Azar and it’s going to be dramatic as shit.
I’m sitting at my desk, my gaze scanning the surveillance cameras, when there is a knock on the door. Calling out for whoever is on the other side to come in, I lift my gaze and watch as Polina slips into the room, closing the door behind her.
“Polina?” I ask.
She dips her chin as she makes her way to the chair across from my desk and sinks down slowly. She’s quiet, too quiet, but I don’t push her. Polina doesn’t have a problem saying what she needs to say, but she will always choose her words carefully.
She looks across from me, her lips sliding along her bottom lip as she lets out a sigh. I start to ask her what’s wrong, but she speaks before I get the chance. Her words are gentle, almost soft, which isn’t exactly like her.
“I’ve got a request and I’m not sure how to proceed with it,” she says.
Shifting in my seat, I look at her, taking her in. There is a moment of silence as I wait for her to continue. She clears her throat, then lets out a sigh. “The governor has requested to come for the evening, a guest of the mayor. He has some special requests.”
I can only imagine what the requests would be. I have no doubt that they are going to be quite interesting, and I am not let down.
“He wants a virgin.”
Arching a brow, I stare across the desk at her, unable to move my attention from hers. I don’t know how to respond to that. I didn’t think that it would surprise me, that a request could surprise me. But it does.
“And he knows that this is a brothel?” I ask.
Her lips curve up into a small smile. “He does,” she says.
“But he wants a virgin?” I ask.
She laughs softly, nodding her head. “He does. He was adamant.”
