by Holt, Leah
Lifting my head to look at Virgo, he was relaxing back into his chair with a smug grin on his face. “One of these days you'll learn, I just hope it's sooner than later. You might think I'm the asshole, Berlin, but you keep doing this shit, I might have to sell you to a man who is far worse than me just to teach you a lesson.”
The door closed on my face as the guard walked out, leaving me with those last words from Virgo.
'Sell you to a man who is far worse. . .'
The thought made me sick. Virgo was the devil, could there really be a man worse than him out there somewhere?
Dropping my body onto the cold concrete, the man took a step back and started to close the door. Jumping to my feet, I ran at the door with my arms out, trying to stop him from closing me inside.
“No! No! I wasn't lying!” The door clicked shut, blackness consuming me. Pounding my fists on the smooth metal, my muscles shook with anger. “I don't deserve this!”
He didn't answer, most of Virgo's muscle never did. They were spineless, brainless creatures who only functioned with orders.
I had done nothing to deserve the ditch. I had done nothing to deserve this life.
Not a fucking thing.
Virgo was gifted me when I was a child, a small present left over from a nightmare. Smuggling me over seas when I was eighteen years old to this wretched place after his empire collapsed in the states, he removed any chance for someone to find me.
I still didn't know exactly what my father had done to make Virgo rip my family down the center. I still didn't know if my father and siblings were out there somewhere in the world or if they were all dead. I tried to ask him once when I was too naive to see him for what he really was.
He didn't answer, giving me a back hand instead. I never asked again.
For the first few years, things were alright. They weren't good, but they weren't horrible considering where I was now. He kept me hidden away, but he treated me fairly, as fairly as someone could without being kind. But the closer I got to coming of age, the firmer his reigns coiled around my body.
And after that meeting, I knew exactly what he wanted with me. I had promised myself that night when I laid in bed after the men left that I wouldn't let him turn me into one of those women.
I tried, I tried so hard to fight him anyway I could. No matter how much he beat me, I pushed back. No matter how many times he threatened to starve me, I refused to eat. No matter how many times he threatened me with death, I begged him do it, I begged him to save me from all of this by ending it once and for all.
He never did. He kept me, he broke me down, he took who I was and crushed it between his fingers as if I was nothing more than a vile bug. But he never sold me. Maybe it was because he failed his conquest to mold me into his vision of perfection.
Regardless, I was here.
Broken, alone, sad, and angry; hating life because I didn't have one worth living.
Dropping back against the wall, I slid down onto my ass, wrapping my knees and pulling them into my chest. Stuffing my head between my legs, I let out a defeated breath.
Fuck my life.
Chapter Four
Berlin
The lock popped and the door swung outward, giving way to a bright burst of light.
“Get up.”
Lifting my head, I blinked rapidly, trying to focus on the figure. Virgo was standing with his hand out, his brows furrowed into the bridge of his nose.
Pushing myself up off the ground, I took his hand and let him help me up. “What day is it?” I asked, rubbing my eyes, trying to adjust to the sudden onslaught of light.
“It's Wednesday.” His voice was deep and harsh, not caring at all that I had spent three days in that room. “And you need to get back to work.”
My entire body ached, my muscles tight and tender from being cramped in the small room. Pins and needles started to ripple up my legs, sending electric snaps across the skin.
“Can I shower first?” Keeping my head on my feet, the light hurt my eyes, giving me an instant headache. “And maybe something to eat?”
Grumbling, Virgo yanked me along, making me walk faster than my tired legs could carry me. “We're not a fucking hotel, Berlin, you should know that by now. Then again, there's a lot you should know, and yet you still like to fuck with me.” His nostrils flared as he looked down at me. “You have one hour in your room to do whatever the hell you need to. Don't make me come looking for you, you won't like what happens if I have to come get you.” Giving me a firm push, Virgo stood at the bottom of the stairs, watching me go up to my room.
I didn't argue. The last thing I wanted was to be tossed back into that room, with just water to hold me over. I got lucky this time, my only punishment was the solitude. I wasn't sure why he hadn't sent someone to hurt me.
Maybe he had given up on physical pain because I didn't react to it like the other girls. I didn't scream, I didn't beg them to stop. I shut down and escaped into my mind, refusing to let him gain any satisfaction from my suffering.
Or maybe he just knew that being completely alone was far worse to me than any pain he could try and drum up. It was awful not being able to talk to anyone else there, but at least knowing people were around me felt less lonely than none at all.
Making my way into my room, I flopped my body onto the thin mattress, curling up into the smallest ball I could. I wanted to cry, I could feel the water as it crept up over the thin edge of my lids, but I didn't, instead forcing it back down into the depths of my soul where everything else lived.
I didn't cry anymore. There was no point in shedding a tear over shit I couldn't control. That part of me, the human part that had feelings and emotions didn't exist anymore. I had locked everything up, hoping that one day I'd be able to unleash them all and live normally.
The only emotion I could feel at all was hate.
Hate for Virgo.
Hate for this godforsaken place.
Hate for anyone who stepped foot in the club.
I wanted to kill them all.
What did that make me? Was I a monster too?
I didn't feel like a monster. But what do you call someone who can only imagine tearing the balls from a client and stuffing them down their throat?
What name do you give to someone who dreams about slicing the throat of a man and basking in his tears as he slowly bleeds to death at their feet?
You're a fucking monster. But you weren't born this way, you were created.
Laying down for a few minutes, I reluctantly dragged my ass out of the bed and took a quick shower. Washing my body, I scrubbed my head and nails, watching the dirt swirl in the water at my feet and disappear down the drain.
I wish I was normal. I wish my life hadn't turned out this way.
Wishes. . . Wishes were God's way of making you feel even less significant. My mother had called us the innocent, and I believed her. If that was true, then how could he turn his back on the innocent and not listen?
There was a time where I used to pray. I would kneel down every night and send him my heartfelt wishes. Wishes of being found, wishes of being free, wishes of not being in pain anymore.
And all he gave me was silence. I was done praying to someone that never answered.
Throwing on an old pair of leggings and a grungy t-shirt, I made a quick sandwich and ate it as fast as I could.
My room wasn't much, about the size of a really small dorm. I had a bathroom and a raggedy old couch, a small hotel sized fridge and a closet full of clothes I didn't pick out. There were bars on my windows, and locks on the outside of my door. Everything was brought to me; food, clothes, hygiene stuff; the bare essentials to keep me alive.
I was as much a prisoner as any other criminal, except my crime was just being alive.
Slipping my feet into a pair of sandals, I made my way back downstairs. A few of the girls were already gathered at the bottom, waiting for Virgo to come tell us we could head into the club.
My eyes connected with a couple of
the girls I saw regularly, so I smiled faintly, giving them a little hello. They didn't smile back.
Because they know better!
Just like you should!
I was past thinking about what would happen if I broke the rules. What could he do to me that I didn't beg him for already? I wasn't afraid to die, I welcomed it with open arms. My only weakness was not being able to do it myself, otherwise I'd have been gone a long time ago.
“Everyone's here,” Virgo said, strolling through the group of girls with his arms knitted behind his back. As he stepped past me, he whispered under his breath. “Even you.”
He was dressed in a fitted black suit, with shiny jet black shoes to match. The only pop of color in his entire outfit was a small yellow handkerchief he had tucked into his back pocket.
The color yellow signified who he was. Boss of the Berchello family, Virgo used the sun tinted hue as a way of stature, a way to separate him and his men from the rest of the world.
The club was just a front for all the illegal shit he had his fingers in. Illegal gambling, stolen goods, racketeering. And then there was his favorite, what he was well known for; selling sex.
On the outside it was just a typical strip club. Men flocked to the club to get a taste of his girls. And if those men had money, well, there wasn't anything they couldn't buy.
But, cross him the wrong way—and no one will ever find you.
Virgo's feet led him beyond the front of the group of ten. Keeping his back to us, he spoke up towards the ceiling. “I expect you all to put on a show like your lives depend on it.” Cocking his head over his shoulder, his eyes connected with mine. “Because for some of you, it does.”
A shiver scaled my spine as his lids lowered and pupils expanded, glowing in a hellish fire of brimstone. His tone was slick as snake's skin, layered in a subtle threat that we could all see. But, his threat was only meant for me.
Leading us all down the hall, he unlocked the door that connected to the club and opened it wide. “Doors open in thirty minutes.” As I walked by, Virgo threw his hand out and snatched my wrist. “No bullshit tonight, Berlin, I'm warning you.”
Fuck you.
Peering at him from the corner of my eyes, I nodded. Loosening his fingers from my wrist, I started forward again, my pace quick and steady.
Sitting down at the small table and mirror, I painted my lids in deep blue eye-shadow and a thick coating of jet black mascara. The tiny, form fitting outfit I pulled off the rack had pops of blue and gold, matching my makeup perfectly.
This was the only thing I actually enjoyed about being there. Putting on that makeup made me feel like a different person, like I was just a normal girl, getting ready for a date or a party. In the club I could be whoever I wanted to be.
I could smile, I could make up fake stories about who I was. I could act as though I chose to be there and this was the life I desired.
It wasn't anything like that, but a girl could play pretend. That's what all this shit was anyway, just a big game of pretend.
Pulling my hair over my shoulder, I started braiding the long thick locks. Staring at myself in the mirror as I folded one long section over the other, memories began to play in my head; ones I tried desperately to hold onto and other times I wanted nothing more than to forget them all.
'No, not like that, you're knotting your hair. Like this.' My mother stood behind me, taking my hair and pulling it into three equal parts. 'Over, under, over, under. You want to pull in from the outside and lift over from the middle. Try again.'
My hands copied her movements, but at a much slower and sloppier pace. 'Like this?' I asked, my small fingers creating pulls in the strands as they wrapped over each other.
'Just like that.' She smiled as she placed her hands on my shoulders and dipped her chin down onto the crook of my neck. 'You're so beautiful, my flower.'
I could see her face in the mirror, a ghostly apparition that hovered behind me. My lips curled into a slight smile as tears threatened to bubble over the surface.
Shaking my head, I tied the end with a thin black elastic and blinked rapidly to dry my eyes before the water could take over, and there would be nothing I could do to stop it.
I hated my memories. Because they brought more pain than the life I was living.
Memories should be good. But my memories brought tears to my eyes. Tears that had no place there, tears that weren't meant for this world. I was supposed to grow up and become someone else, not this.
All my dreams of being a princess and having Prince Charming ride in on his white horse had faded away. I had turned into Cinderella with an evil step father and no magical fairy to make things better.
The music started to pound through the speakers, making my muscles shake in surprise. Taking in a deep breath, I slipped my feet into my heels and got ready to do what I had been trained to do.
Make money, take money, and not think about how I was getting it.
Adjusting my skirt, I took my place behind the curtain, waiting for my turn.
The lights dimmed, the music slowly fading away as the DJ changed the record. Thick bass created a wave of prickles across my skin as my song came on, signaling I was up.
Taking in a deep breath, I closed my eyes, gently shaking my hands at my sides and forcing myself to forget all about who I was and what I was about to do.
You're not this person, it's just an act. You're better than this, you know you are.
Tickling my fingers across the velvet curtain, I spread both sheets wide, batting my lashes as all the men began to hoot. The tip of my toe pressed out, leading my long leg into view. I felt the curtain as it slipped across my skin, sealing my entrance to the stage.
Letting the music consume me, I rocked my body, moving to the beat and working my way over to the pole. The room was filled with men, all of them peering up at me, drool almost pouring out of their mouths.
I ignored them, same as always, imagining that I was on Broadway, taking part in a musical. The men were an audience of hundreds, the song my shining moment for the world to embrace me.
Looking out past the dogs at the base of the stage, I kept my eyes on the background, doing my best to stay focused on my daydream. Bills were flying past my feet, sliding across the glossy wood floor. The yelling was getting louder and louder, drowning out the voices inside my head.
Closing my eyes, my hand gripped the pole, holding on tight as I swung around. Curling my leg, I dropped my head back, letting my braid sweep across the floor.
Opening my eyes, everything changed. My heart jumped into my throat, sweat began to bead up on the back of my neck, my palms became clammy, causing me to slip on the pole.
Snapping my back straight, I whipped my head over my shoulder and glared at the last seat at the end of the stage.
He's back. He's here again.
The man that had gotten me into trouble was sitting right at the front of the stage, his hands folded against his chest as his eyes bore a hole right through me.
I could feel his glare, the way it shifted around my body as I stood like a statue, completely thrown off by his presence.
The corner of his lip lifted into a slight smirk as I paused my dance, his smile a knowing sign he was well aware that he was the reason for my sudden falter.
The other men around me began to bark to keep going, but I couldn't. Flaring my nostrils, I pursed my lips, taking in long deep pulls of stuffy club air.
Why is he here? Why did he have to come back?
The man rolled a single finger, his gesture telling me to finish what I started. But I didn't want to, I wanted off that stage. I wasn't going to dance for him.
Turning quickly on my heels, I left the bills that had accumulated and stormed off the stage. Throwing the curtains aside, I stumbled down the steps, almost tripping and falling on my face.
Grabbing a wood beam, I caught myself, trying to slow down the panicked sensation that was flowing through my veins. I was struggling to breathe, the
air too dense to seep into my lungs, as a soft wheeze filled the space between my ears.
Throwing a hand to my chest, I took in slow breaths through my nose and blew out through my mouth. I felt the eyes of the other girls around me, they were all staring at me, curiosity and a hint of fear on their faces.
They were worried about what happened, they were concerned about me, they were also terrified about what Virgo would do to me for leaving the job early.
And yet no one came to my side to see if I was alright.
“What's this? You're not done, get back out there, Berlin!” Vinchezo demanded, his feet pounding over in my direction. “You don't stop, no one stops in the middle of a show.”
“I know, I know, and I'm sorry,” I said, holding up my hand. “I just. . .” Pausing, I tried to come up with a good excuse for what I had done. “I just got my period, Vin. Virgo wouldn't want me bleeding out on the stage, would he? You know how he feels about that shit.”
I'm not going back into the ditch for that man.
Vinchezo ran a hand through his hair as his lids shot open. His expression changed from anger to discomfort. I don't think there's a guy in this world that doesn't feel awkward when a girl brings up her monthly visitor.
Even Virgo was uncomfortable. I was eleven when I got my period, and it was the only time I had seen him clam up and not know what to say or do. So he sent one of his girls down with everything I would need and they showed me what to do.
Grunting, his fingers scratched at the stubble on his jaw. “Alright, go take care of that and get right back out there.”
Nodding, I braided my fingers together and scurried into the bathroom backstage. My hope was that by the time I came back out, another girl would be up there and I could have a little time to relax.
Who the fuck does that guy think he is?
Standing in the bathroom, I gripped the dirty, stained porcelain sink, and let my head hang loosely on my shoulders. I wanted that man gone, I waned him to never step foot in the club again.
And yet, there was nothing I could do to stop him.
I had no power there. I had no authority to send him away. My feelings meant nothing.
