Chapter 23 ANYTHING [FLASHBACK]

Chapter 23 ANYTHING [FLASHBACK]
The bass was a low animal growl crawling through the club’s floor. Club Solenzara wasn’t the kind of place you walked into; it was the kind of place that let you enter, if you were useful. Red velvet walls, marble floors, chandeliers that looked like stolen constellations. The smell was money and smoke and something metallic underneath, like blood iron hidden in perfume.

My heels felt too loud against the polished floor as I moved past men in suits and women in sequins. Nobody touched me, but I felt eyes following me like knives. The bouncers didn’t stop me; one glance at my face and they must’ve known who I was here for.

Zade Solenzara.

I found him at the far end of the club where the light softened to a smoky gold. He was alone at a billiard table, sleeves rolled to his elbows, the black ink of some old scar peeking at his wrist. His coat hung on a chair like it was guarding a throne. He lined up a shot with one hand, cue stick balanced with the kind of lazy precision men only had when they knew no one could touch them.

My mouth went dry.

He was even bigger up close. The light traced the cut of his jaw, the veins on his forearms, the slow deliberate way he moved. This wasn’t a man playing pool. This was a predator playing with time.

I didn’t think. I just moved. Past the tables. Past the curious glances. Past the voice in my head screaming don’t.

And then my knees hit the floor.

The marble was cold and unforgiving, and the sound of it cracked under the bass. Heads turned. I didn’t care.

He straightened but didn’t look at me right away. The cue ball rolled, kissed another ball, sank into a pocket with a quiet thunk. Only then did he shift his eyes to me—dark, unreadable, a storm without a sky.

“What,” he said. Not a question. A weight.

I clasped my hands together in front of me. “Please.”

A muscle in his jaw ticked. “Please… what.”

My voice broke. “Don’t hurt her. Don’t touch the orphanage. Don’t—” I swallowed. “We’ll pay. We’ll work. I’ll work. I’ll do anything you want. Clean this club. Wash your damn cars. Whatever it takes. Just—give us a chance.”

A shadow of a smile touched his mouth, gone before it formed. He leaned the cue stick against the table and came closer, slow, like a lion stepping down from a rock.

“You’ll do anything.” He said it like he was tasting the word on his tongue. “Anything.”

I nodded so hard my hair fell into my face. “Yes.”

He crouched down until we were eye level, his knees bent like he wasn’t afraid to ruin his tailored pants. He didn’t touch me. Just studied me. His gaze traveled from my eyes to my mouth to my shaking hands.

“You’re shaking,” he murmured.

I clenched my fists tighter. “I’m not.”

“You are.” He tilted his head, studying me like I was a painting he couldn’t decide to buy or burn. “Do you even know who I am?”

I lifted my chin. “You’re Zade Solenzara.”

“That’s a name,” he said softly. “Names aren’t men.”

“I don’t care. Just tell me what you want.”

He chuckled under his breath, low and amused. “What I want.” He reached out—not to touch, but to hook one finger under my chin, making me look at him. “Do you think you’re in a position to negotiate?”

I flinched but held his stare. “No.”

His eyes flickered, dark amusement and something else under it. “Then why are you here on your knees?”

“Because I don’t have a choice.”

“That,” he said, “is the first honest thing you’ve said.”

He rose, tall again, towering over me. For a second I thought he would just walk away. But instead, he picked up a glass from the edge of the billiard table and set it on the rail. He gestured at a chair. “Get up.”

I did, my legs shaking, palms sweaty.

He moved to the chair opposite me, sat, and draped one arm over the back like he owned gravity. “Tell me why I shouldn’t crush your sister for what she owes me.”

I licked my lips. “Because she’s stupid. Because she made a mistake. Because you’re better than the men who use fire to scare nuns.”

His mouth twitched at that, maybe a smirk, maybe a threat. “Flattery doesn’t work here.”

“It wasn’t flattery. It was a dare.”

That made him laugh—quiet, sharp. “You’ve got teeth under all that begging.”

“I’m not begging for me,” I said. “I’m begging for them.”

His eyes softened for a heartbeat, then shuttered again. “You think I’m a monster.”

“I think you’re a man who could be one,” I said honestly.

He stood again, circling me this time, slow steps around my body like he was measuring something. My heart banged against my ribs, but I forced myself to stay still.

“You’re pretty,” he said finally, voice low near my ear. “Pretty enough. Interesting enough. Maybe even dangerous enough.”

I swallowed. “What does that mean.”

“It means,” he said, stepping in front of me now, “you’re not invisible to me anymore.”

I hated the way my skin flushed at that. Hated that some part of me felt safer under his gaze, even as every rational part screamed run.

He leaned down just enough for me to smell the smoke on his shirt, the expensive cologne beneath it. “You want me to spare your sister? The orphanage?”

“Yes,” I whispered.

“You’ll work for me.”

I nodded. “Anything.”

His hand hovered near my hair but didn’t touch. “Don’t promise things you don’t understand.”

“I understand enough.”

His smile this time was full, dark and slow like ink spreading in water. “We’ll see.”

He straightened, picking up the cue stick again, his back to me like I’d been dismissed—but the deal was already made, even if no words sealed it.

I stayed standing, knees weak, palms damp, eyes fixed on the marble floor. I had just traded something I couldn’t name for a chance at survival.

And behind me, his voice drifted like smoke.

“Welcome to Club Solenzara, Aubrey. Try not to disappoint me.”