AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I breathe deep and push open the car door.
This place is notorious. It’s the largest brothel in the Dallas-Fort Worth region, and the fact that it hasn’t been shut down yet is a minor miracle. The guy that runs it, some minor mafia boss with much larger ambitions by the name of Bastone, must spend half his earnings in bribe money each year.
The motel isn’t in such bad shape. It’s all teals and pinks and purples, and it badly needs a new paint job, but the neon in the sign still works and the bright red “Vacancies” glows steadily. I adjust my jacket and make sure to touch the gun in its holster beneath my left arm and walk slowly to the office tucked on the first floor on the far left side. Rows and rows of rooms with tiny numbers greet me with the windows covered by thick shades. There are ten cars in the lot aside from my own, and I catch snippets of noises: loud televisions, a grunt that sounds like pain, a soft moan, some laughter. Aside from that, the place is dead.
This whole place is distasteful. I’d never come out to The Velvet Rope willingly, except my father ordered it, and I do not deny the Pakhan. The Novalov family is steeped in long years of tradition and boiled in vats of blood and human fat, and every man that comes out of our line is hardened into a sharp diamond. Though my father’s blood doesn’t run in my veins, I am still the oldest son of the Novalov family, and as such I will act like it—and obey orders.
Even if the idea of touring a brothel makes my stomach churn.
Guido Bastone himself greets me at the door. He’s a slimy-looking man with dark hair slicked back and a big, inviting smile, like a used car salesman. He holds a hand out and I shake it firmly, frowning into his big grin.
“Hello, Maxim, I am very happy to have you here,” he says, giving me a slight bow as he releases my hand. I am pleased by the respect he shows but I’m still not happy about being in this place.
Still, that’s not a good excuse for rudeness, and this man might soon be a business partner.
I nod my head in return.
“I am glad to be here,” I lie and gesture. “Shall we speak inside?”
“Please.” Guido leads the way. The office is like any motel front desk. It looks real enough: pamphlets for local sights are lined up in a tray, and a computer monitor and cash register sit behind a barrier of Plexiglas, likely bullet proof. Some mangled, scratched-up easy chairs are set up around a low, round coffee table with ancient issues ofPopular Mechanicfanned out. Old, fading paintings hang over the wood-paneled walls, and it smells like cigar smoke and body odor.
Another man comes toward me. He’s big and broad, with dark hair and dark eyes. He’s a giant version of Guido, though thirty years younger.
“You must be Enzo,” I say and shake his hand. “My father mentioned you’d be here.” The oldest son and heir to the Bastone family.
He nods respectfully like his father did, though his eyes don’t leave mine. He’s challenging me, seeing if he can intimidate. We’re of a similar height, though he’s stocky and well-muscled. I wouldn’t want to get into a physical confrontation with him, but I also wouldn’t back down from one.
I give him a tight smile, which he returns.
“Good to meet you, Maxim Novalov. Thank you for visiting our humble motel.”
He says the words like he’s reading from a script. I sigh and look around. “My Pakhan is keenly interested in what you’ve built here. It’s not every day that an establishment such of this one can operate in plain sight.”
Guido Bastone steps to my elbow. “We’ve taken great strides toward making this place as discreet as possible. If you’d like to come this way?” He guides me from the office and back outside. Enzo follows like a big, hulking shadow.
“The Velvet Rope has a certain reputation,” Guido says as he takes me toward a stairwell in the back that leads to the second-floor walkway. “And of course, the girls are the primary draw. But we truly do have rooms to rent, and we get the occasional strangers passing through in need of a clean place to sleep.”
“Clean,” I repeat, raising my eyebrows.
Guido gives me a look. “Our whores may fuck all day, but I am not in the business of managing filth. That’s another way we keep in business. Our guests are all happy, whether they’re here for pussy or for sleep.”
I nod to myself. That makes sense. Run it under the guise of a real establishment. Hide in plain sight. “Where do the girls stay?”
“Bottom floor in the back. We have rooms for them.” Guido reaches the landing first and gestures. “While you are here, feel free to take whatever you wish. You may sample the wares, so to speak, or perhaps you may take a girl as your own? Consider it a gift from my family to yours.” He shows me teeth in a simpering smile and my blood boils.
He wants to give me a girl as a present? I do not need to be gifted pussy. My mind flashes back to the last time I slept with a woman, two months ago. I haven’t gotten Siena’s moans and writhing out of my mind, and it kills me that she left before I woke. I’d never had a girl sneak away in the early hours before, and ever since, I’ve been trying to track her down, hungry for another taste. Especially after I noticed the bloodstains on the sheets and realized what it meant.
But so far, I’ve been unsuccessful.
“I am here only for business,” I say stiffly, not smiling back. He seems to get the idea and turns away, heading toward the rooms. We turn a corner and he stops again, gesturing. “Ah, there you are. Maxim, I’d like you to meet my manager, Zarita.”
An older woman in her early fifties approaches. She looks healthy and happy, with thick dark hair pulled back and a bright smile, though wrinkles line her eyes and mouth. She wears a conservative dark blue dress with a high collar, and she looks more like a schoolteacher than a madam. Then again, her job is to herd cats, which isn’t so different.
I shake her hand and she offers me a slight bow. Guido’s people are well coached and rehearsed, which I respect. A moan echoes from a nearby room and Zarita’s lips pull into a momentary grimace, but I only smile and that seems to ease the tension.
“Shall we visit a room?” Zarita asks.
“I’d like to see everything,” I say, even if I’d rather get the hell out of here. I’ve seen enough already to understand what they’re doing, and I don’t need the details, but my father sent me here for a reason and I won’t disappoint him.
