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“You speak to the men only to get orders. There’s a chair in the corner. They know all you do isget them drinks. You understand?” I stare at Marco but give him an honest answer.
“I feel like you’re trying to tell me something.”
“They touch you, you scream, Lilah. You are not entertainment. You are decoration. Useful decoration, but decoration. You are Carluccio property.” I roll my lips together, uneasy. “This world is chaos, babe. I get it. But we’re here to keep you safe. You will always have a man in there with you—usually me. I hide in the shadows, but you know I’m there. Sorry to tell you, no phones allowed, no media. You can bring a book, but that’s it.”
“I haven’t read since I was a kid,” I say with a laugh, and Marco smiles, but the door opens.
“Might want to start again, babe,” he says, leading me in.
* * *
I’m shocked that the night flies by, despite having little to nothing to keep me entertained.
Before I know it, the game is over, it’s 11, and Marco is telling me to grab my stuff and he’ll walk me to my car.
“My shift is until two,” I tell him, reminding him I’m supposed to be here until close.
“Your shifts changed. Big Boss rules, remember? You get here tomorrow at two. You’ll be home by seven.” I widen my eyes, but he just smiles, handing me a stack of cash. “For today. Guys liked you a whole lot, princess.”
I don’t see how—I barely even did anything. Occasionally, a man sitting at the green-felt table would wave me over, stare at my tits and ask for something to drink, then Marco would walk me out to the bar before walking me back in.
That’s it.
It felt . . . surreal.
It feltfake.
And holding this stack of cash that I know is way thicker than anything I’ve brought home dancing in six weeks, I know it’s a lot of money.
“Marco, I’m not supposed to take this much home,” I say under my breath as Marco pushes the front door open, the cold air shocking my lungs. His brows come together, and he looks at me as I walk past him into the parking lot.
“What?”
“I’m working here. I’m paying off my dad’s debts, Marco,” I say, manually unlocking my car.
“I don’t understand what you’re saying, Lilah.” He holds the cold metal door open as I stand there next to him, his sunglasses on top of his head. “Paulie takes everything but $20.”
Here’s the thing: Marco is good at hiding his thoughts.
Very good.
But I see the flash of irritation. Anger, even.
It’s terrifying if I’m being honest.
“New job, new rules, babe. In your car. Start it. It’s cold.” I do as he asks, getting in mechanically, putting the key in the ignition, and cranking the heat. Then he bends his knees until he’s face-to-face with me. “Don’t worry about that. Those are your tips. Take them.”
“Marco, my dad—"
“New job, new rules. I’ll talk to the Big Boss, but you’re good. Trust me.” I lick my lips, unsure. “Drive home, Lilah. Text me when you get there. You don’t send me your location in fifteen, I gotta go find you. I really don’t want to find you tonight.”
“What?”
“New job—"
“New rules. Got it. Are you like, my bodyguard now?” I ask with a laugh.
“No. This is what we do for the girls who work the games. Men in high places think they can get what they want, Lilah. We protect our girls.”
