My lips match the red peeking out through the lace number I have on tonight. I have on four-inch heels with black stockings. My panties offer full coverage, continuing the lace and the red rose design. It stops maybe two inches under where my bra does, making me look like a decadent present wrapped securely in a lovely bow.
I place my hands on both ends of my hair and pull about half to the front, giving me a bit of dimension. Lifting my chin up, I stare at the pearl . . . wondering what the fuck I’m doing with my life. It already feels like I’ve traded one prison for another, even if it was unintentional.
I suck in a breath, throw on my trench coat, and hope Sorin doesn’t see me. He went over to my house to fetch some things for me, and luckily he was able to get past the front door by entering our father’s birthday as the passcode. Though, the task I have him doing for me is actually the only way to hope we don’t cross paths.
I hurry out of the guest bathroom and walk through his condo. My heels click and clack against the marble floors and before I know it, I’m on my way down the elevator. Within a few minutes I’m in the back of an Uber on my way to Crave, LLC.
The driver assumed I was some sort of performer here in Vegas, and I simply nodded and told him that. It’s better he doesn’t know where I work, or what I do. I can’t believe what I’m about to do tonight. The reality sinks in while I’m in the back of this damn car. I’m about to offer my body up to someone for cold, hard cash. Though, if I’m being honest it’s probably enough cash to last me a month . . . if I decide to be a minimalist. I could, and if I have to, I will. It’s as simple as that.
I suck in a sharp breath as he pulls in front of the skyscraper. Since I’ve already paid through the app I head straight inside the building. My phone begins to buzz in my small crossbody purse, so I pull it out and see it’s my brother.
From: Sorin
I won’t be back until late. Don’t wait up.
I spot another notification indicating I’ve missed another text, so I scroll down and tap away.
From: Mircea
If you want to come back, you still have time. He hasn’t casted you out yet, sister.
I’m quick to type a reply to both of my brothers.
To: Sorin
All good. Same here. I should have a place within the next couple days.
To: Mircea
Go fuck yourself, ass kisser.
I slide my phone back into my purse and walk through the lobby, head toward the elevator, and pull out the keycard that’ll grant me access to any of the four floors. Only Crave girls have the keycard allowing access to all four floors, while clients have access to the top two. Fortunately, I was the only one in the elevator on my way up.
I take in a deep breath as the doors open to the club and walk into the thumping music and darkness with only the neon purple and pink lights on display. I strut forward and approach the coat check, giving them my trench. The man hands me a card so I slide it into my purse, determined to keep that on me tonight. Plus, if I’m going to get tipped, I’ll need it to stash my cash.
I move further into the club, heading directly over to the bar. Getting through this night isn’t going to be possible without some liquid courage. One of the girls comes up behind the bar and walks over to me, “What can I get you, babe?”
“Tequila, on the rocks, please.”
“For sure,” She says over the music, smiling. After a moment she brings it over and narrows her eyes in on me. “Crina? Is that you?”
I don’t know this woman at all, or at least I don’t think I do. “Who’s asking?”
“It’s Bea. I’ve had a lil’ work done, babe.” She smirks, pointing to her lips, nose, and tits.
“Holy shit! You look amazing. I had no idea you . . . wow, you look so good.” I tell her.
Her smile grows, “Thanks so much. You here for some pleasure?”
I laugh, “No. I work for the company.”
Bea blinks a couple times while she processes that. Everyone here knows I dated Gia. For fuck’s sake, I was always around. “Gia . . . she let you come . . . work here?”
I nod, “Yep. She’s the one who told me to choose one of these.” I point to my choker.
Bea presses her lips together. “I smell trouble already. If I remember correctly, she was quite possessive over you.”
“Yeah, she was.” I agree, though it wasn’t in a bad way.
“I should warn you, I’m pretty sure I saw that hottie of a brother you have here.” Bea teases, licking her bottom lip.
“Sorin?” I question, suddenly getting nauseous.
“Uh, no, the one with hair.”
“Fuck!” Mircea had to be here tonight. Fuck me sideways.
“Do me a favor and flag me down if you see him anywhere close to me. I don’t want to get—”
“Oh, honey, he’s already in the dungeon. Don’t you worry about that. Last time he was there for about five hours.” Bea giggles. Meanwhile, I want to vomit. I physically feel the bile rising in my throat.
“God, please stop while you’re ahead. Please.” I practically beg her.
“Fine, ruin my fun. Anyway, you’re really working tonight . . . on the floor?”
I nod, “Yeah. Gia told me it’s what she wanted, so here I am.”
“You’re right. It is what I wanted. Now come along, baby. I have a client for you.” Gia’s voice comes out of nowhere, causing a chill to run down my spine.
I turn to face her, seeing her decked out in a deep sapphire blue bodysuit. The lace hugs every curve and crevasse of her body. “What? When did things start working like this?” Never has anyone grabbed clients for the girls. They’re always choosing who they spend time with.
“About six months ago we implemented a program called matching. I’m sure you can figure out how it works. Now, come. I don’t have time to waste tonight.” Gia starts to walk off, and I follow her, but before I do I down the tequila Bea made for me.
Gia leads me downstairs which causes my heart to race a mile a minute, especially since I know my brother is here. Halfway down the stairwell Gia comes to a halt and turns to look back at me. “What’s the matter?”
“Mircea is here.”
Gia rolls her eyes. “He’s too busy balls deep in pussy to pay attention to who’s walking by. Come on, unless you want to have a discussion like this in the hallway and have him see you.”
As much as I don’t want to admit it. She’s right. So, I break the distance between us and we head down the rest of the stairs. Gia makes a left toward some of the private rooms and we continue going through the corridor until we’re in front of the infamous red room. With a red velvet door, it eludes to what is behind it. Red fabric, red accessories, and red lighting. Of course, there’s the occasional black bit.
She swipes her card, opens the door and I follow her in. I walk further into the room to see the red chandelier has actually been replaced with a white one. While there’s still bits of red light in the room, it’s not nearly as strong as it was a couple years ago.
“Who’s the client you matched me with?” I question, hearing the distinct sound of the deadbolt locking. At this point I turn and watch as Gia strips from her blue getup. She’s already torn off her top, simply leaving the lace bottoms and heels on.