Chapter 135: The Boss

Cecilia

"We're here to see the boss," I said, forcing my voice to stay level despite the way my heart was pounding and my stomach was churning with revulsion.

The bouncer's expression changed immediately, the repulsive interest disappearing like someone had flipped a switch, replaced by something more professional and cautious.

He held out his hand, rubbing his thumb and fingers together in the universal gesture for money.

Sophia pulled out some cash from her pocket and handed it over without a word, without negotiation, like this was a routine she'd performed many times before.

The bouncer pocketed the bills and jerked his head toward the door. "Second floor. Private room at the end of the hall. But fair warning, ladies—he's busy right now. Might want to wait a few minutes before you knock."

We stepped inside, and I immediately understood what he meant by "busy."

The club was packed with people—dancing, drinking, touching each other in ways that made it abundantly clear this wasn't just a regular nightclub. The air was thick with smoke and sweat and something else, something chemical that made my head swim and my stomach turn.

Bodies pressed together on the dance floor in ways that were more sexual than dancing, and in the darker corners I could see couples or groups engaged in activities that should have been happening in private rooms rather than public spaces.

Sophia pulled me toward a staircase at the back, and we climbed to the second floor where things were slightly quieter but no less disturbing.

Private rooms lined the hallway, their doors closed but not soundproof, and from behind several of them I could hear sounds that left absolutely nothing to the imagination—moans and grunts and the rhythmic sound of furniture moving against floors.

We reached the door at the end of the hall, and sure enough, I could hear a woman's voice from inside—high-pitched moans that sounded theatrical and fake but were probably effective enough for whoever was paying for them.

The bouncer who'd followed us up knocked once, sharp and perfunctory, then pushed the door open without waiting for a response.

The scene inside made my stomach turn and my hands clench into fists at my sides.

A woman was sprawled on a leather couch, half-dressed with her clothes disheveled and her makeup smeared, breathing hard in a way that looked more exhausted than satisfied.

A man stood over her buttoning his pants with casual indifference, his movements methodical and detached like he was getting dressed after a business meeting rather than after sex. He pulled a wad of cash from his pocket and threw it at her without even looking, the bills scattering across the couch and floor.

"Get out," he said, his voice flat and bored, already dismissing her existence.

The woman scrambled to collect the money and her clothes, practically running out of the room past us without making eye contact, her face flushed with what looked like shame mixed with relief that it was over.

And then the man—the boss, I assumed—turned to look at us, and I got my first real look at him.

He was younger than I'd expected, maybe in his early forties, with brown hair pulled back in a way that should have looked ridiculous but somehow worked on him.

His features were sharp and calculating, his eyes moving between Sophia and me with an assessment that felt more like a predator sizing up potential prey than a person looking at other people.

When those eyes landed on me and stayed there, I saw something flicker in them that made my blood run cold—interest mixed with something darker, something that made me want to take a step back.

"Well, well," he said, a slow smile spreading across his face that didn't reach his eyes. "My little sweetheart brought me an even cuter sweetheart."

His gaze traveled over me in a way that made me feel like I needed another shower. "Tell me, gorgeous—you interested in making some money tonight?"

"No," I said immediately, my voice coming out harder and sharper than I'd intended. "I have a fiancé."

The boss let out a bark of laughter that held no real humor. "They all have someone. Doesn't usually stop them when the price is right."

His eyes continued their slow, deliberate journey over my body. "Though I gotta say, it's a damn shame. I've got a thing for virgins, and something tells me you'd be worth every penny."

Rage flooded through me, hot and sharp and nearly overwhelming, but I forced it down with an effort that made my jaw ache from clenching. Getting angry wouldn't help me right now—wouldn't get me information, wouldn't help me find Daniel, wouldn't get me out of this nightmare situation.

"I need to ask you something," I said, stepping forward despite every instinct screaming at me to run, to get as far away from this man and this place as possible. "Can I leave? And do you know anything about a man who was brought here around the same time as me?"

The boss's expression shifted into something amused and predatory, like I'd just said something that entertained him immensely. He held up one finger. "One question, one hundred thousand pounds."

My eyes widened despite my attempt to stay composed. "What?"

"You heard me." He leaned back against the desk, crossing his arms over his chest in a posture that radiated casual confidence.

"Information costs money, sweetheart. You want answers? You pay for them. One question, one hundred thousand pounds. And if you want to leave?" He held up another finger. "That'll cost you too. Exit fee—another hundred thousand."

I felt my jaw clench, my teeth grinding together as I processed what he was saying.

"Fine," I said, my voice coming out steady despite the way my heart was racing. "I can pay."

Though I have no cash on me, I can transfer money directly as long as I get the account details.

His eyebrows rose with obvious interest, his posture shifting slightly like I'd suddenly become more intriguing to him. "Can you now? And how exactly does a pretty little thing like you have that kind of cash lying around?"