Page 7 of Vicious

I shudder at the familiar intonations, the words that make me want to lean in and try harder as much as they make me want to flee. He’s the only person to speak Chinese with me in a long, long time, and the fact that it’s happening here and now, with such cruel words, threatens to break something inside of me.

“Please,” I say without shame. For Baba, and for myself, I go on in my stunted Chinese h, “Please help us. What do you want me to say? I’ll say it. What do you want me to do? I’ll do it. Just please, please help us.”

The words make me sick even as I utter them. I’m offering anything to him, everything to him, and I know what that could entail. But I can’t not beg. I can’t not try.

He snorts a laugh. “Your accent sucks, May,” he says in English as he releases me. He sits back in his chair and meets my eyes. “Finish the lap dance.”

I debase myself for him.

There’s no other word to describe the way my fingers ghost along his skin, the way my body writhes against his, the way I tease him with each one of my movements. I don’t think I’ve ever put this much into a lap dance before, and I doubt I ever will again. If this fails, I don’t know what I’ll do.

All the while, I can’t stop thinking that I need this to work. I need him to think this is worth it.

I don’t think he’ll be able to do a damn thing to help me, except potentially putting more money towards clearing my debt, but Baba? If he can help my father, at least temporarily, I’ll do this and more.

I freeze when I brush against his half-hard cock. I half expect him to lift his hips to grind against me, but he’s sitting on his hands, like he’d be expected to at a higher end strip club.

He doesn’t have to, though. I arch and press down so I’m rubbing against him. If I bring him to orgasm, will that convince him? What do I have to do to get him to help us?

Chase smiles, like he knows what I’m trying to do. Then he places his hands on my hips and says, “That was thirty minutes, wasn’t it? I’m not sure I’m flush enough in funds to afford more of your time.”

I stop again, staring at him. “What?” I ask, dumbstruck. “Are you always—” I catch myself again. No. I can’t lose my temper, not here, not now. Not with him. I can’t risk it. “Please,” I say quickly. “Please help us, I’ll keep going…” I trail off, though. Donny and Elena will expect him to pay more. The boss can give out freebies, but not us.

Chase picks up the bills from the table and stuffs them under the bikini top strap. “Thank you for your time. I might come back,” he says, smirking. “I enjoyed the dance.”

My heart plummets into my stomach, but there’s nothing I can do. “Thank you,” I say. I feel dazed, failure like a dagger in my heart, as I slide off of his lap. I bow my head to him. “I hope to see you again, then.”

I hope he never comes back.

Chase gets out of the chair and heads toward the bar. I slink back to the dressing room on those ill-fitting heels, ready to freshen up so I can service some other man.

So I can forget about Chase fucking Vicious.

Elena comes up to me again, frowning. “You’re still here? Didn’t… Oh, never mind. Here, put this on.” She hands me a coat and a pair of sneakers. “Follow me.”

I blink at her. Still here? Of course I’m still here. Where else would I be? It’s not like I could make a break for it, especially not dressed like this.

Besides, I heard all about the last time someone tried to run away from this hellhole, and I’m not going to repeat that experience for myself.

I hurry to put on the coat, though, grateful for the chance to cover it up. With nimble fingers, I button it up even as I kick off the heels with a sigh of relief. I slide my feet into the sneakers, which fit me far better than the high heels did. Elena casts a critical glance over me, then nods, starting toward the hallway.

I follow, but no matter how hard I try, I can’t think of anything that would explain the clothes and shoes unless she’s helping me escape—and wouldn’t that just be laughable? No, she’s too loyal to Giulio Pavone for that.

Elena takes me to the back exit, where Ben, one of the security guards, is waiting. I eye him warily while Elena unlocks the door and pushes it open.

It leads to the back parking lot. I’m even more confused than before. “What’s going on?” I ask.

Elena gives me a look, although it’s hard to decipher her expression through the scars. “You’re leaving. Somebody bought you.”

I stop dead in my tracks, balking. “Someone…” I trail off, coldness flooding my veins. “Please, Elena, you can’t… You can’t be serious.” I know this happens. It happens all over the country, all over the world, and Ntimacy is far from savory. I know women have been sold from here. But the idea of it happening to me is suddenly too much.

I won’t be able to help my father. I’ll probably die within a year or two.

I realize that, without a doubt, I don’t want to die.

Elena makes an annoyed sound. “Of course I’m serious. Giulio wanted to recoup the money he lost on your father, and this was the fastest way. Go along quietly, or Ben will have to subdue you.”

I feel like a balloon that’s been popped, sucking all the air from my lungs and leaving me dizzy in the aftermath. Sold. It’s so much, too much, and I stagger.

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