Page 81 of Scarred King

“Yes.” I slam my fists on the counter. “And you’re going to help me.”

I stand in front of dozens of hookers and strippers who look as miserable as I feel.

“Good evening, everyone,” I say as they continue to chat and ignore me. “Good evening, everyone,” I shout, and the chatter stops. They look at me curiously. “My name’s Elena, I’m Liam’s girlfriend.” I wait for a reaction, and when none comes, I continue. “I own this place now. I’d like you all to help clean up and then get back to work.” After two seconds of nerve-racking silence, the brunette starts laughing and everyone else joins in. “Quiet!” I shout and start pacing. “We have a little over an hour to prove that this place is working as usual and that I’m the legal owner. You can either decide if you want to help and work for me, or at midnight you’ll have to start working for the new owners.”

“You’re just a stuck-up student who’s sleeping with the boss,” the blonde says mockingly. “What do you know about the business? What do you know about us? And why do you think that anyone will let a baby like you take over?” she snorts in contempt.

“I don’t just sleep with him.” I manage to keep calm, “I live with him. Johanna can testify to that.”

Johanna stands next to me and nods to confirm.

“So what?” the brunette shrugs and joins in. “That doesn’t mean anything. I’m not going to risk my job for someone who thinks the sun shines out her ass.” Laughter fills the room again.

“You know that the Russians don’t have panic buttons?” I raise my voice. The girls stop laughing immediately. “You’ll have a great time with them and then you'll have to explain to social services why you’re in the hospital, and they’ll take your children away again.”

She looks at me in shock and says nothing.

“And you.” I point at the blondes. “I thought that after you killed that bastard who beat you up, you wouldn’t want to give up your freedom so quickly.” She curses and falls silent and I realize that I've got her attention. “For the French, you’ll be just another piece of meat to sell, like in the market. How many girls who work for them were sold to a pimp who hits them and makes them work the streets?” I lower my voice. “I would have thought that you, more than anyone, would protect my right as a woman to claim what’s mine.” I can’t believe I’m using feminist statements to persuade hookers and strippers, but to my great surprise, she stands up and turns her back to me. “No son of a bitch is going to sell me.” She tells her friends furiously. “I decide when and how I use my body. And I say, fuck ’em all. Let’s help the stuck-up bitch.”

I ignore her name calling and hurry to her side.

“We don’t really want to work for the Poles or the French, either,” one of the twins speaks for both of them, and I feel a spark of hope.

“If this doesn’t work, they’ll kill us all,” the brunette insists.

“So you'd rather end up like the Russian’s wife?” I play my last card, and everyone looks at me in horror.

Johanna is standing on my other side and slowly more girls start to get up.

“Look at her,” the brunette yells. “Who’s gonna believe that she can run this place? Who’s gonna believe that she’s crazy enough to take over?"

“I believe that can be arranged.” This unexpected support comes from a well-groomed and delicate-looking man with feminine features. “Victor, what do you say?” he asks his friend, who is combing his greasy hair. “Can we transform this sweet duckling into something crazy?” He uses his teeth and hands to imitate a cute lion roaring and his friend stands up, and moves his head from side to side as he looks me over.

“Oh, Leo!” he starts jumping up and down, clapping his hands. “I just love challenges like these.” He stands next to me and strokes my curves. “We’ll give her a makeover. I see her in the style of Frida Kahlo, the Mexican artist, combined with a seventeenth-century noblewoman.”

Leo nods enthusiastically. “But without the unibrow and mustache. We’ll give those a pass.” He chuckles, looks proud and adds seriously, “There’s a reason they hired us as head designers at the club. We’re magicians.”

I nod in thanks and they run to the club.

“Does it look like a game to you?” the brunette is still objecting. “Do you understand that our lives depend on this?”

“Then help me.” I walk over to her. “Help me, because I’m in this with you. If I lose, that could be fatal for you.”

“You can’t even call us by our names,” she shakes her head in disappointment.

I stare into her eyes. “Amber, I may be a stuck-up bitch, but I’m the best chance you've got right now.”

She looks at me silently for a while and suddenly throws her head back, lets out a shout and stands in front of me. “Fuck ’em all. Let’s do it.” The girls clap their hands enthusiastically, and she starts firing instructions. Who should clear what, where everyone should go and even what to wear. I look at her quietly and she mutters venomously, “This is just because I need to look out for myself. So, you better pull off this suicide mission.” I swallow loudly as she begins to rearrange the chairs. The girls run around the bar and the strippers return to the club.

I feel myself turning to stone with the pressure, and order myself to get my act together. I walk over to the counter, cross my arms and look at Charlie intently.

“It won’t work,” he mumbles.

“I swear I’ll tell Liam everyone helped but you.” I bare my teeth and he looks frightened. “Good,” I smile, as if he’s just given me his approval. “Now call the bouncers and spread the word that it’s business as usual.”

He hisses a curse but picks up his cellphone and starts dialing. “Oh God…” he raises his head to the ceiling, “make the crazy German appear.”

I go upstairs with the two feminine men, walk into the office and to my dismay discover the mess there. Scattered papers, smashed bottles and overturned furniture.

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