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“I hate to be kept waiting.” The deep timber of Mr. Black’s voice startles me, sending a shiver down my spine. “I had to go to the bar and get my own drink.”
His hand brushes against my neck, brushing my hair to the side and planting a kiss on my shoulder.
My entire body stiffens as I attempt to turn around, but his hand wraps tightly around the back of my neck and pulls me to his chest. His hand snakes around my shoulder and down my chest, slipping his hand into the deep V-neckline of my dress. His hand grips my breast tightly, pulling me flush against his body.
“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were enjoying this,bean bhig.” Little woman.
Bile rises in my throat as he caresses my bare breast, goose bumps erupting across my skin. Clenching my eyes shut tightly, I try to remember my reason for being in this situation. Repeating my sister’s name in my head.
Willa. Willa. Willa.
Taking long, slow, deep breaths, I attempt to calm my nerves. I want to lash out at Mr. Black, making him pay for touching me without permission, but I need to use this situation to my advantage. We’re out in the open, where anyone can walk by and see us, but there’s light. Light that’s now reflecting off the very expensive-looking watch fastened around his wrist.
I should tremble in fear, but my eyes focus on the large tattoo of a rose across Mr. Black’s hand. I memorize every detail down to the black shading around the petals and gothic lettering across his knuckles. I can’t make out what the letters spell in this light, but this is something I can run with. If I can find out who Mr. Black really is, I’m one step closer to finding out who has my sister.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you, Celia. You and I have an arrangement.”
“An arrangement,” I scoff, letting my newfound backbone show through. “That’d imply I had a choice.”
That’s another thing about playing a part; your insecurities fly out the window. When I’m here in the club, CeCe’s take-no-shit attitude is front and center. Hell, it has to be. If I panicked every time I had to speak to someone, either male or female, I’d spend my entire shift huddled in a corner of the locker room. Who knew that a threat to my and my sister’s life was all it would take for me to manage my anxiety? Don’t get me wrong, I’m not ‘cured’, but I do have a better handle on things.
I’m able to have conversations and interact with new people regularly. Sometimes I panic, but I’ve learned to manage it better than ever before. The last thing I need is for someone to catch me.
“Careful, Celia,” he warns, his voice dropping dangerously low.
This isn’t the first time I’ve mouthed off to Mr. Black, and it won’t be the last. There is power in knowledge, and right now, I’m the only person who can get these people the information they need. I need to make sure I don’t push back too hard, or it could end badly for Willa and me.
“Or what, you’ll kill me?” I deadpan. “They’ll be here tonight.”
“We know.”
Barely resisting the urge to roll my eyes, I feel something vibrate against my shoulder, reminding me I have a job to do.
“Duty calls,” Mr. Black snarls in my ear before releasing me and giving me a gentle shove toward the stairs. “Get the information we need or else.”
Spinning around quickly, my eyes search the entire area for Mr. Black but only get a glimpse of his back as he turns the corner, heading back into the bar. I want to follow him, see where he’ll lead me, but as I take a step in that direction, my pager goes off.
“Duty calls,” I croak, before adjusting my dress and plastering on my best fake smile.
I’ve been working toward this moment for the last month, and now I’ll finally come face to face with the man of the hour, Salvatore Genovese.
CHAPTERSIX
CELIA
My black heels click along the marble floor as I make my way down the pristine hallway of the upper level of Club Sin. I’ve only been up here once, during orientation, but there was an entirely different feel to it then. Maybe it was because the club was empty, silent, but these walls have stories to tell.
There’s nothing out of the ordinary about this upper level of Club Sin, besides the sexual depravities happening. They assign members, or a group of members, a room to use when and how they please. But none of that information is public. Only a select few know what members own which rooms, and now I’m one of them.
Room twenty-one.
My pulse skips a beat. I’m about to meet Salvatore Genovese. With the limited information I’ve collected over the last month, I’m terrified. The Genoveses own most, if not all, of Chicago. They have their hands in a wide range of criminal activities, including loansharking, illegal gambling, prostitution, political corruption, and probably more.
Room twenty-two.
There is no monopoly on crime in Chicago, but the Genoveses are the most powerful. Salvatore and Antonio have been working to unite the families of Chicago under one banner—the Genovese Family—furthering their reach beyond the Chicago city limits and making their list of enemies over a mile long. Included in the last are other families and the police, but they’ve evaded all attempts to derail their plans. And somehow, I’m supposed to get into Salvatore’s good graces.
Room twenty-three. I’m here.
