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“Now we understand each other,” Zarita says, still smiling. “I know your secret, which means you’ll do whatever I tell you to do.”
“Zarita,” I say, shaking my head. “You don’t have to do this.”
“I most certainly do.” She laughs as if she’s having fun. She probably is, the awful psychopath. “I own you now, unless you want me to show your father that video. I’d happily do it, and your father will make your life a living hell. But before you choose that route, consider this. Once you’re gone, who will protect your precious friend Mira? Or quiet little Lan? Or big, stupid Ora?” She grins, showing teeth like a victorious cat.
Tears roll down my cheeks. I hate myself for them, but I can’t help it. She wins, she got me. She knows that the only thing motivating me anymore is my love for my friends. I’ve only known the girls for a short time but I care about them and want to help them. I’m stupid, I’ve always been stupid, but I can’t help it.
My weakness got me into this mess to start. I betrayed my family by helping a girl just like Mira run away.
Now my weakness will drive me deeper into this pit.
“What do you want?” I ask through my crying. Fuck, I hate the way she seems to revel in it, like she enjoys my misery.
“You will work for me,” she says. “On your off hours, you’ll see clients. You’ll fuck them like all the other girls do, but you will tell no one, not Mira, not your father. You will give me the money, and if you make it easy, I’ll let you keep some. We’ll go into business together. You’ll spread those pretty legs and take as much cock as I can feed into you, or else I’ll make sure Mira dies a very painful, very humiliating death, and you’ll end up in some worse hell. Do you understand me now, Siena? I own you, and you work for me.”
I hug myself tightly, tears falling faster. I sob, and my mind flashes to Maxim, his strong arms, the way he makes me feel. I hate him for coming back, especially after I told him stay away. If he listened, none of this would be happening.
But he didn’t listen, and I’m too weak. I went to him, I kissed him, and now I will pay.
The irony isn’t lost on me. He came back to make sure I wasn’t actually a prostitute—and by doing that, he’s damning me to that life.
Why couldn’t he just leave me alone? Why couldn’t I just walk away?
Zarita stands up. She closes the distance between us and looks at me with that menacing smile. Her lips are painted deep red and her eyes are lined with black with an ugly smoky eyeshadow. Her hair is in a messy twist, and her clothes look secondhand. She pulls my chin up to meet her eyes.
“Tell me you understand.”
“I understand,” I say through my tears.
“Good. You’ll start tomorrow morning. For today, you will keep working as usual. Tell nobody. Say nothing. And stop your fucking crying.” Her smile disappears. “I fucked men for years. It isn’t so bad. You think these girls want your pity? Get yourself together, you spoiled, rotten little prissy bitch. I own you now.” She pushes me and I stumble against the door.
The sudden violence makes me stop crying. I stare at her, blinking through my tears, and wipe my face with my arm. I smell like bleach and cleaning solvents. Soon I’ll smell like strange men.
“I’ll see you tomorrow morning. Say, ‘Yes, Zarita,’ little bitch.”
“Yes, Zarita.”
“Good. Get out.”
I turn, open the door, and walk away. My legs are shaking and my hands are trembling.
Tomorrow morning, my life will end.
I was a virgin before I came here. I’ve been with one man in my entire life.
Soon, Zarita will bring me as many men as I can physically handle, and I’ll never be the same.
Chapter9
Maxim
It’s early when I pull into the parking lot of The Velvet Rope. I glide the BMW to a stop outside of the office and sip from a coffee cup. It’s strong and black and wakes me up as I scan the balcony for any sign of Siena.
There’s nothing. Why would there be? It’s eight in the morning.
There are several other cars in the parking lot. Most of them are practical sedans and SUVs, the sort of thing a middle-class guy would drive. I climb out of my car and stretch. My suit fits tight against my skin and I feel my gun heavy against my ribs. I glance over my shoulder toward the stairwell at the far end where I kissed Siena the night before last and can still taste her on my lips.
But I push that aside. I’m not here for her. I’m here for business, and I can’t let my obsession with Siena overwhelm my ability to do my job.
