“I can pay you back some more of it. I don’t have it all. Come with me into my office.”
“Rome, Caesar.” Giovanni says two names and instantly two big burly men enter the room. They are similar to Giovanni in appearances, both in suits which fit them perfectly—great physique and good looking—but they don’t hold the room like Giovanni does. They aren’t calm like he is. They must be his backup, his enforcers. They look angry and seem to lack the patience Giovanni has.
The two men grab Weston by his arms to escort him to his office, making me realize I need to speak up now before it’s too late.
“I need your help, please.” My voice comes out hoarse from recently gagging, so I clear my throat and say it clearer. “I need your help, please.”
“Shut the fuck up, Aria.” Weston tries to get out of the men’s hold, but they just tighten their grip on him. It gives me the confidence to stand. This might be my only chance to be set free.
“H-He…Weston…He’s holding me captive. Please, can you call the police?” I stand, and then remembering I’m naked, I wrap one arm around my chest to cover my breasts, and with my other hand, I try to cover my sex the best I can.
Giovanni assesses me for a few moments. “Who are you?”
“She’s nobody! Don’t worry about her!” Weston’s outburst has Giovanni smirking. Weston just showed his cards.
Moving closer to Weston, Giovanni lets out a soft humorless chuckle. “I think I will worry about her because you seem extremely worried about her. Now shut your mouth.” He walks over to me until we’re only a few inches apart. “Who are you?”
“I-I’m Aria. My mom died…well, I’m not sure how long ago. But he’s been holding me captive in the—”
“Shut the fuck up, Aria!” Weston bellows, effectively cutting me off, and for the first time Giovanni shows a hint of anger. He stalks over to Weston and punches him right in the face. His head jerks to the side and blood instantly pours from his mouth. “I told you to shut up.”
“Can you please call the police?” I beg.
Giovanni walks slowly back toward me. Instinctively, I tighten my arms around myself. He studies me for a moment before he raises his hand to my face. I flinch out of habit, fearful he’s going to strike me, but instead he wipes a falling tear from my cheek, his face completely devoid of all emotion. “Please,” I repeat.
“No, I’m sorry but I can’t do that.” His hand leaves my cheek, taking its warmth with it.
“No.” The word is meant to be a question, but I heard him correctly. It hits me that this man isn’t going to save me. More tears well up in my eyes, and my chin trembles. My hands are shaking, and I’m about to lose it. A sob escapes and tears of hopelessness gush down my cheeks.
“No.” I repeat the word one more time to force myself to accept it.
“Maybe I’ll just take her as payment.” He’ll what? Did this guy just volunteer to take me as Weston’s payment?
“Boss.”
“No fucking way.”
One of Giovanni’s men and Weston both speak at the same time, sounding as confused as I feel, but Giovanni ignores them both, keeping his eyes on me for a beat longer. I think maybe he’s going to save me, but then he turns his back on me and walks out of the room with Weston and his men.
“Please!” I implore as the door closes, leaving me in a room with Weston’s associates. I drop to my knees at how cruel life can be.
Chapter Five
GIOVANNI
“It’s a pleasure doing business with you.” I stand and shake the hand of a high-power defense attorney. He’s married with two kids and he’s just paid a small fortune to be an exclusive member of La Stella’s Gentleman’s Club. Just another example of a man not being faithful. But who the hell am I to judge when it means more money in my pocket.
“Thank you, Mr. Valentino.”
I walk him out of my office and down the hall to the common room to meet Cecilia, so she can help him pick out the woman he’d like to spend time with. “I’m looking for a companion. It’s not about sex,” he said. If I had a dollar for every man who walked through my doors and tried to convince me and themselves that it’s not about sex, I would be even richer than I already am.
“Cecilia, this is Mr. Steele. Please show him around. He’s looking for a companion.”
“Will do, Sir.” She beams at Mr. Steele, giving him a flirtatious wink.
I walk over to the bar and have a seat on one of the cushioned stools, in need of a drink. “Emilio, whiskey neat.”
“Sure thing.” He makes my drink and sets it on the bar top.
As I sip the whiskey, enjoying the warmth it brings, my mind can’t get off the beautiful woman at the senator’s house. When she begged me to save her, it took everything in me not to pick her up and take her out of that house. And the fact I even considered it, scares the ever-loving shit out of me. What got me was the desperation in her eyes. I’ve been raised around whores my entire life. For God sakes, I lost my virginity to a whore at this bordello, courtesy of my father when I had barely hit puberty, who told me it was time to become a man.
But the difference is, every one of those women choose to spread their legs. The women I employ make the choice to have sex with men for money. No woman here is ever forced to do anything she doesn’t want to do. While a member has the right to request a particular woman, she in return has the right to deny him.
And watching that girl—who I recognized from the picture in the senator’s office—looking so helpless in the living room, gutted me. When she informed me he was holding her captive, I saw red. But taking her then would have made me look weak. I’m a businessman, and my only business with Weston is the money he owes me.
I tried to ignore her. I tried to deal with the issue at hand, but when she stood and looked at me with such pleading, broken eyes, there was no ignoring the beautiful woman. Shiny golden-brown hair came down in waves along the outline of her face. When she looked up at me as I wiped the falling tear from her cheek, her eyes nearly knocked me on my ass. Deep sea-green, clear and luminous, with a darker blue rim around the outer part of the iris—in contrast to her brown hair and bronzed skin—had me in a trance.
But what got me the most was how dim her eyes were as she pleaded with me. The light in her eyes had been switched off. As she stood in front of me—naked and vulnerable—trying to cover her clearly malnourished self, I knew right then and there I would give this woman anything she asked for. And so, I had no choice but to turn my back on her. If I took her, I would have to keep her. She would be Weston’s payment and I wouldn’t be able to let her go. She would be forced from one prison to another, so to speak. But at least here, she would be fed properly and taken care of.
My chest tightens as I think how beautiful she’d be if her eyes were lit up once again. How badly I want to be the reason her eyes light up, again. How defeated she looked when she realized I wasn’t going to be her savior. How badly I want to be her savior. Fuck! But I wouldn’t be her savior. I would be her capturer. Sure, I’d be taking her out of that shitty situation but only to bring her into another one. But on the other hand, she’s better off being held captive here than with that piece of crap senator.