Chapter Six
April
The club was finally closing up for the night. The soft murmur of voices carried around the empty space as everyone finished up their last chores. Gloria took two acetaminophen for herself and massaged her neck as she rotated it in a circle. She’d had to hold down two other men that night to set a broken leg and suture up a bad gash in another’s forearm. Her muscles were tired and her stomach was in need of something more substantial than the sandwich she’d had earlier.
She finished jotting down the records for both herself and the club to know what all she had done for the day. Just two more months. Two more months and Sergei would discover she’s missing and find a replacement. A few more months and he’d be married to someone else and she would be free to resurface. Not as “Lilah” as everyone at the club knew her as, but as Gloria Rubanov, heir to Ivan Rubanov’s Bratvan empire. She would burn it to the ground and from the ashes she would use the money to go to nursing school. She already knew being connected to Accardi would help her get in the best programs. All she had to do was not fuck anything up. No one could know her true identity. Only Nora, who took her and so many others like her under her wing, knew of her real ties to the Russian mob.
“How’d it go tonight?” Nora said from right behind her.
Gloria jumped. “Yeesh! Don’t sneak up on me like that!” Gloria yelled, smacking Nora playfully on the shoulder.
“Well?”
“It went… fine. Only had a couple unruly men I had to put in their place.”
“I heard about the thigh hold. Hot,” Nora said with a wiggle of her eyebrows and a nod of approval.
Gloria rolled her eyes and tucked her journal away in her desk. “Are you ready to head out?” Gloria asked. She lived in the same building as Nora and Rita, and they made it a practice to always leave the house together and return the same way.
“Eh, not quite. Polly disappeared on me again. I am almost closed up back here. Would you mind going up to check the VIP section? Just make sure there aren’t any lingerers and the triplets did their job cleaning up?” Nora asked, already walking away.
Gloria sighed and nodded though Nora’s back was turned. She slung her jacket over her shoulder and walked toward the stairs. She nodded at Maurice who was in the ring spraying bleach to rid the mat of blood. She walked up the steps, her feet sliding over the metal as though they weighed a hundred pounds each. She was so tired. She’d been tired since…
She got to the top of the stairs and glanced around. All seemed clear and despite a few napkins the triplets had left for the janitorial staff, the area seemed in good order. Then she heard a feminine moan. Gloria straightened her spine. No, that couldn’t be. Then it came again. She stood there for a moment trying to decide what to do. Should she interrupt and tell the couple to move along? She had seen Nora do so herself a few times in the past.
Her cheeks flamed as she peeked around trying to discern where the sound was coming from. Her heart beat against her ribcage as she took a few steps forward and glanced into the first private sitting area. The moans grew louder as she walked down the line of rooms you could close off using a thick velvet curtain. Her feet stopped and her eyes widened when she found the source of the noise in the fourth room.
She would recognize that fake blonde hair anywhere. It was Polly, Nora’s reluctant bar help. She was down on her knees. Her fingers dug into the tattooed skin of a man’s thighs. Gloria’s gaze slowly ticked upward over the partially exposed chest bearing even more tattoos to the smooth skin of his throat blemished by a jagged scar running from his chin to his Adam's apple. Her eyes jerked the rest of the way up to watch Frankie Donati’s face.
Gloria couldn’t move. She watched, completely rooted to the floor, as the muscles in his throat worked. His right hand, featuring a tattoo of an intricate compass, settled on Polly’s head and gripped her hair. His mouth twitched as he forced her further down causing Polly to choke and grip his thighs tighter. Gloria’s eyes focused in on how Polly’s nails cut into Frankie’s thighs, drawing blood. He held her down for several seconds before letting her up to get air. Her relief didn’t last for long. His face seemed relaxed, bored even, as if what Polly was doing was getting him nowhere. The only time she would see his lips quirk was when Polly made a sound of discomfort or protest. She should stop them, tell them to move it along or at the very least walk away. Instead, she found her body growing slack and heavy with desire as she watched the scene play out in front of her.
Frankie forced Polly’s head down harshly and Polly took him deep enough to make him growl. Gloria inhaled at the feral sound. She clapped a hand over her mouth and took a step back. A second later, Frankie’s eyes slowly opened as if drugged. His head lulled back against the couch as his gaze connected with hers. His eyes dropped to her heaving chest before continuing their slow path downward. He licked his lips and his hand on Polly’s head loosened allowing her to move faster. When his eyes returned to hers, they trapped her gaze and pulled her into the dark abyss of his stare.
Gloria’s breathing shallowed out and a heavy pool of desire settled in her stomach as she watched him bite his lip. His eyes raked over her body as if he thought a look would be enough to rip the clothes from her skin. Gloria trembled under his inspection and he seemed to shiver in response. Frankie’s hand tightened in Polly’s hair again and started moving her at his own pace. It took her a few moments to realize the up and down rhythm of his hand matched her own breathing. She took a step back in shock and he shook his head in warning. She stopped her retreat and felt her blood roar in her ears at the smile he gave her for obeying.
Her breathing intensified as did the motion of Polly’s head. She gripped her jacket firmly in her hands and twisted her fingers into the fabric to keep them from reaching down to where she wanted them to be. His own fingers seemed to mimic her gesture as he tightened them in Polly’s hair. The chords in his neck started to strain as his breathing heightened along with the color in his face. She bit her lip at the erotic picture. The sound of Polly’s mouth sucking Frankie’s dick echoed around the small circular room. The lewd noises made Gloria begin to sweat with a need she’d never imagined possible. Her panties felt slick under her shorts and she clenched her thighs together to keep from rubbing them against each other.
Frankie forced Polly’s head all the way down at the same time as his eyes shut hard. His hips rocked up from the booth and Polly let out a muffled cry while digging her nails into Frankie’s flesh. With his eyes closed and no longer able to hold her captive, Gloria turned and fled.