Page 50 of Malevolent Secrets

For now, I focus on familiarizing myself with the system in place, ensuring I understand the flow of money within the club.

There’s a lot to take in, but I’m determined to prove myself and uncover any hidden truths that might be lurking in the shadows of these records.

Hours go by and my legs begin to cramp, so I decide to go on a little break and explore the club by myself. It is still early so there aren’t a lot of patrons yet, just the DJ setting up, lights being changed, decor being shifted around.

No wonder the club is so popular. Every night is a different experience in the club. I can only imagine the hard work that goes into it.

I wave at a few men who are working, at least the ones who don’t have guns strapped to their hips and scowls plastered on their faces, and some of them even wave back. I get a mocktail from the bar and sip it while I walk around.

“Drinking on the job?”

I turn at the sound of his voice, and my heart rate immediately speeds up.

“What? Oh, there’s no alcohol in this, just a shit load of sugar.”

He doesn’t say anything, just stares at me with a stoic expression on his face.

“Sorry.”

“For what?”

“I probably shouldn’t say ‘shit’ to my boss.”

He opens his mouth but seems to think better of whatever he’s about to say, and he closes it back.

“How’s the day going?”

I’m tempted to tell him all about it. I want to tell him about meeting Vincent and how unnerving the experience was. I want to tell him how much I learned going over the club’s books, but most of all, I want to tell him that I missed spending time with him today.

Which is crazy, messed up in fact. There’s no reason for me to want to spend time with him. There’s no reason for me to look up each time someone passes the front of my office and hope it’s him.

There's a very distinct possibility that Jeremy is dead because of him. I simply cannot let myself start missing him.

“It’s going okay.”

He nods and then someone calls him away. I look over and see Lorenzo talking to Vincent. Their conversation seems intense and I wonder what they’re discussing.

Lorenzo’s eyes meet mine briefly and there’s a silent exchange between us that sends a shiver down my spine. Memories of our encounter earlier that morning flood my mind—his touch, his kisses, the way he made me feel alive and vulnerable all at once.

I shake the thoughts away, and make myself go back upstairs to my new office.

Carla checks in on me periodically, offering guidance and answering my questions. I still remember the bartender from my first night here and her warning about keeping my mouth shut and not asking questions.

I’m smart enough to know that Carla wouldn’t be the manager of the club if Lorenzo didn’t trust her explicitly. If he trusts her, she probably knows something about the other parts of the business operations. She might have some insights about Jeremy.

But I have to be smart about asking my questions, one wrong move and I’ll be kicked out on my ass, or worse…

“Carla,” I say casually, “Is there a Jeremy Foster working in this club?”

Her expression tightens slightly, but she shrugs. “There was. Why?”

“His name was mentioned a couple of times in the books, but there’s nothing from him again after the fifth of last month. I just thought I should ask.”

Her face is a mask of indifference. I know my face looks about the same.

“Yes, I remember him. Why do you ask?” she presses.

“I just...It seems like he was really involved with the club and I wanted to know more about his role here.”

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