Page 29 of Phantom Mine

My anger comes flaring back, this time with a brand new target as I watch Melody disappear backstage. I turn slowly towards the intruder.

“Get the fuck off me.” I shove the blonde off my lap and she falls to the ground with a loud, satisfyingthunk. I stand, towering over her, and she glances fearfully back up at me. “Do that again and I’ll be the last person you ever touch. Are we clear?”

Chapter Ten

Valentina

Two weeks pass in a blur of dances, bottle service, and learning my way around Firenze with Aurora’s help. My days are kept so busy with actual work that I don’t manage to carve out any time to dedicate to the real reason I’m here. I’m impatient, anxious and antsy to get long-awaited answers, but I know that rushing before I see an opening means endangering myself. These initial weeks are going to be paramount to my survival.

The great news is that my time isn’t being wasted. I familiarize myself with the ins and outs of the club until I know the front and back of the house well enough to go through every section blindfolded. That knowledge will come in handy if I ever need to make a quick escape.

I was naive about how dangerous this was going to be before I came here.

Aside from Aurora, the monsters lurk everywhere. Guido continues to manhandle the girls anytime he sees fit. He’s not the only one. I see how countless other Made men make theirway into the changing rooms and collect a girl of their choosing. Aurora assures me that sexual services are strictly forbidden and not on the menu, but I watch those girls come back with their hair disheveled, their makeup running down their cheeks and a hollow look in their eyes, and I don’t need to think very hard to imagine the horrors they’ve just been put through.

Mercifully, the men all stay away from me. I think Matteo’s little performance during my first dance made them think I was forbidden fruit. They’re mistaken but I’m still thankful for the protection those unfounded assumptions provide.

I haven’t seen him since that night. He’s stayed far away from me and I haven’t gone looking for him. Sometimes my skin itches like I can feel his gaze on me, but when I look over my shoulder, he’s never there. I’m either paranoid or going crazy, and I’m not sure which is worse.

The man Idosee is Enzo.

He comes to the changing room every day before my set and motions at me to show him my chosen outfit for the night. If he doesn’t approve of my choice, then I have to change it. He often dislikes it, although he doesn’t share what his criteria are for judging my clothes. The only thing that seems consistent is ensuring maximum coverage of all my essential bits. When I point out that it seems counterproductive to the clothes off business they’re trying to run, he just shrugs and tells me to pick again.

Enzo communicates almost exclusively through grunts, head nods, and head shakes, which I actually appreciate. No need to pretend this is anything other than what it is—it doesn’t take a genius to figure out the only reason he’s here is because his boss has ordered him to keep an eye on me.

I’m in the changing room, bent over the counter of my vanity when Arabella appears behind me. She fists my hair and yanks it viciously, pulling me down to the ground with a sadistic smile onher face. I scream and fall, clawing at her hands to try and free my hair.

“Fuckingbitch,” she spits at me.

Not for the first time, I wonder how someone so beautiful on the outside can be so ugly on the inside.

Based on the way she confidently sat on Matteo’s lap and wrapped her arms around his neck the last time I saw him, the two of them are familiar with each other in a biblical sense.

She got his attention and he’s ignored me since, so I’m not sure what exactly has fueled her behavior to go from bad to downright cruel. It’s been two weeks of constant attacks. Most times, it’s one of her cronies carrying out her orders. The moment my guard dips, one of them jumps me from behind.

I drew too much attention to the fact that I can fight when I twisted Arabella’s wrist on my first day, so I mostly grin and bear the pain until it’s over.

“Arabella,stop,” I yell.

She kicks me in the ribs. I cry out and curl into a ball, drawing my knees up into my chest to protect myself.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see her leg pull back as she keeps her hold on my hair. I bury my face in my hands and brace myself for impact, resigned to my fate.

Nothing happens.

After what feels like an eternity, I look up. My eyes collide with Arabella’s. They’re wide with fear, the pupils constricted down to pinpricks and the whites glassy and bright.

I understand why when I see the gun pressed up against her temple.

“Let her go,” Enzo orders coolly.

Arabella does as he asks, then turns slowly towards him. “She–she stole my makeup palette. I—”

“Give me those and get out.” He gestures for whatever she holds in her hand, then waves his gun towards the exit. “All of you,” he bellows at the other three girls present.

I don’t watch them go but I hear them leave. Hiding a wince at the throbbing in my side, I sit up gingerly.

“She’s lying. I didn’t steal from her,” I mutter, my gaze turned away, my face hidden behind my hair.

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