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"That's me." Dante looked her in the eyes. "You know something?"
She bit her lip. "A customer was talking, trying to scare me… I don't know how much was bullshit, though."
"Tell me."
"He said they go after girls who aren't working in clubs like this," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "Not working girls or anything... Like, random women. Normies. They trick them. I heard they like 'em young, too." She wrinkled her nose, clearly disgusted by the thought.
"You got any names for me?"
"The guy talked about a Winston. He didn't say anything else."
Dante clenched his jaw, rage simmering beneath the surface. He locked eyes with each of his men as he spoke. "Thanks, Ruby. We'll take care of them. That customer of yours comes back, you let Romeo know, okay?"
She nodded and left. Her fear, and the promise he'd made, hung heavy in the air. Dante ordered another round of drinks, trying to ease the tension that had settled over their table.
As his men celebrated, their earlier joviality returning, Dante brooded over how to track down the rest of the trafficking ring and destroy them once and for all. They didn't know what was waiting for them.
This trafficking operation was serious shit. Some crew was snatching girls, and they were only getting bolder. There were whispers coming from all kinds of places, but they were as hard to pin down as smoke. The girls simply disappeared.
Gordon Vetch had only been one of their lackeys, a cog in the machine. Dante needed to find the kingpin -- and take him down for good.
Dante leaned back in his seat, observing the dimly lit room as scantily-clad women moved sinuously around the club's patrons. The music pulsed around him, drowning out the laughter and hollers of his men as they enjoyed the company of the dancers.
Dante's eyes flicked over to the stage, where a dancer in a sparkling thong spun around a pole, her legs spread wide and inviting. Yet his thoughts remained firmly on Felix, whose innocent touch had ignited a fire within him that no dancer could hope to match.
Felix, with his full lips and pleading eyes, made Dante's body ache with desire. He remembered how perfect it felt to fuck Felix, to slide into his tight warmth, claiming him completely.
The memory sent a shiver down his spine, awakening a hunger inside him that he hadn't felt since he was much younger. He chuckled ruefully at the thought.
You just like coming to the rescue, Navone. The kid flashes those big Bambi eyes and asks for help, and you'refucked. Get over him.
As Dante thought, his fingers drummed against his hip — and the phone in his pocket.
He had Felix's number. He could call him.
Shouldn't.
Wanted to.
Needed to.
He knew it was reckless, but he couldn't help it; tonight, surrounded by bare bodies and lustful eyes, all he could think about was Felix.
Fuck it.I'm in the neighborhood. I've got some time to kill. You home?
He looked at the screen, expecting… what? No response at all, maybe. Most people would think it's safer to ghost a mafia man than to reject him. Maybe Felix would just leave his message unread, instead of writing some cringingI just think we're at different places in our lives…message.
His phone blinked with a reply.Yeah, I'm here.
Already getting to his feet, Dante downed his drink. "Something's come up," he said, standing up from the booth. "I'm heading out. I'll meet you guys there."
"Aw, come on!" one of the girls pouted, her hands wrapped around Matteo's arm. "Just one more drink?"
"Sorry, sweetheart," Dante said with a tight smile. "Feel free to stay and enjoy yourselves, though. Put it on my tab."
His men exchanged glances as they raised their glasses, offering half-hearted protests as he left the club. But whatever they thought he was up to, they were wrong.
The cool night air hit his face, leaving goosebumps on his skin as he walked to his car. He unlocked the door, the thought of Felix consuming him.
