Page 94 of Ruthless Beast

“Yeah. Do you know him?”

“Yeah, we know him. That fucker dumps girls here all the time. He’s connected to Paolo somehow. I think they have the same boss.”

“Vince Gallo?” I ask, hoping to put together the pieces of the puzzle.

“Yeah, that’s the one. He owns this club,” Maria says. “He’s a big time criminal. A very bad man.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised if they had something to do with your brother’s death. Damon is a nasty son of a bitch.”

Could it be? No! I would know, wouldn’t I? I would have picked up on his vibes.

Sure, you would have. You didn’t even see Lucas for who he was, you fool. You’re out of your depth with these men, Emily.

“Why hasn’t your boyfriend come to save you yet?” Elena snarks. “He’s probably an asshole too. All men are.”

“To be honest, Elena, I don’t know. I thought I could depend on him, but now I’m not so sure anymore. I don’t know anything. Except that I have to get out of here before…”

“Before what?” Maria encourages me.

Can I trust these women to keep their mouths shut? What choice do I really have? It’s a matter of weeks before my belly will start to show. What then? Perhaps they’ll take pity on me if they know I’m pregnant.

“Before what, Emily?” Elena chimes in.

“Before it’s too late,” I answer.

“Too late for what?” Elena pushes.

“You’re pregnant, aren't you?” Maria says softly.

A hush falls over the group. They’re staring at me, waiting for an answer. Oh, what the hell do I have to lose?

“Yes.”

“How far along are you?” Elena asks after an awkward silence.

“Far enough to be showing soon.”

“Fuck!” Elena says and slams down her glass.

“What?” I ask.

“You know what Paolo will do to you if he finds out, right?”

“What?”

“Elena!” Maria chastises her smartmouth friend.

“What? She needs to know. It’s for her own good,” Elena snaps back.

“Tell me, Elena. What will he do?”

“If you can’t dance, you’ll have to bring in money some other way,” one of the other women interjects.

“Like what?”

“Prostitution,” Elena announces. “You’ll have to earn your keep the old fashioned way. On your back.”

“No,” I whisper. “I can’t. I won’t.”

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