Page 24 of Claiming Vanessa
Stef gives me one quick glance and starts to lead me out the door. Even during the day, the hall is dimly lit. I try not to worry about what I’m stepping on, but it doesn’t feel like the floor’s been mopped in quite a while.
“These are our rooms,” Stef says, motioning to the other doors. “If they don’t like how you’re behaving, you’ll get locked up.”
“How many… women are there?” I ask, dreading the answer. I don’t really want to know, but at the same time, Ineedto know. I need to know just how bad this is.
Stef looks at the doors and shrugs. “I think most of the rooms are full right now.” Then she points to the door next to “mine.” “That’s Elena’s room. You have to be extra nice to her.”
“Who’s Elena?” I ask, glancing at the door. I’d be nice to her anyway, just like I’d be nice to any of the women who worked here, but it’s interesting that someone merits special treatment. I remember how Giulio had rushed off to visit Elena last night. Is she like me? Are they also trying to get her pregnant? I shudder. How many people are they subjecting to this?
Stef ducks her head and pushes one blonde lock of hair behind her ears. “Elena’s just… I don’t know. She doesn’t come out a lot. But somebody told me that getting into a fight with Elena is worse than arguing with a customer. I’m kind of new, so this is only what I’ve heard.”
I feel even more sympathy for Stef. Being new here can’t be easy, especially if she’s trying to learn the ropes. I’m not looking forward to it. “I appreciate the heads-up,” I tell her. “I’m not… I really get along with most people. But it’s good to know which people have more… protection around here.”
Will I be one of them?
“Okay, um.” Stef points toward the far end of the hall. A window fills most of the narrow end wall. “The door on the left is the business office. Donny or Paul are usually there during the day, if they’ve come in. They’re the managers. Don’t get on Paul’s bad side.” After a pause, she adds, “I think Donny’s gay? He doesn’t hit on any of the girls, anyway.”
“That’s good,” I mumble, although I don’t think being gay excuses anything Donny is doing now. He might not hit on the girls, but he’s still forcing them to be here.
“Let’s head down.” Stef leads me down the same stairs I’d taken the previous night. The walls are dingy and could use a serious scrub. There are dark stains on the ceiling too, which make me think somebody must have smoked in this stairwell.
With all the money Giulio has, he could invest in making the place a little nicer. But I guess there’s no point in upkeep for the areas the customers don’t see.
Not that the main dance floor is much better. I grimace when my bare foot touches something sticky. I hope it’s only a spilled drink and not anything less savory.
Stef catches my expression and looks down. “Oh. Jenna must not have been through to mop yet. We don’t usually do cleanup until a bit closer to opening. Everybody’s too tired.” She steps away from me and spreads her arms wide, gesturing all around. “This is the club. Main dance stage, where you earn the most money, unless you find somebody who’s willing to pay for a private dance. The bar over there. Don’t ever steal drinks. And…”
Her shoulders slump a bit as she looks in the same direction as the VIP room.
“The private rooms. Those are the real money makers.” She tries to smile, but it’s a brittle expression. “The real reason people are willing to come to a club like Ntimacy.”
I shudder. I can only imagine what goes on behind those closed doors.
“So… what happens to the money you earn? They just… take it? And keep you here? Or can you like… save up enough to leave?” I’m desperately hoping she says they can earn enough to get out, that they aren’treallysex slaves like it seems like they are.
“House cut is seventy percent,” she says, scratching her arm. “And we have to pay rent and food and… stuff.”
My eyes are drawn to where she’s scratching, and I notice bruising and small, red dots along the inside of her arm.
Anger threatens to overwhelm me as I think of just how terrible the women here have it. They don’t have a choice but to be here, yet they have to pay for it. And Giulio is obviously supplying her with drugs.
I guess it makes her more malleable, but the sheer unfairness of it all makes my eyes burn.
The more I see, the more disgusted—and afraid—I am. Giulio and Damien are monsters, just as much as their friend Slayer. Emilio Pavone had been a terrible person, and for this to be his legacy…
“So… what do you do when the club is closed?” I ask, not even sure I want to know the answer.
“Clean the club. Practice our routines. The dressing room has a TV and some books,” Stef says quietly. “We sometimes hang out together. Find ways to kill time until the evening. You want to see?”
Not really. I think it’ll only make this place more depressing than it already is. But I nod. My throat is tight, and I don’t trust myself to try to speak.
She leads me to the area behind the main stage, which is indeed a dressing room with vanities set up. No private changing area, but plenty of costumes hang on racks. The TV is on the far wall, volume set to low with the subtitles displaying. Two other women are sitting on the loveseat in front of it, curled up against each other.
It would almost be a cute scene, if either of them were more than half-dressed, and if one of them didn’t have bruising around her wrists.
The one with the short, black hair lifts her head to look at us, and she narrows her eyes. “Who are you?”
I offer a tentative smile, though even I know it probably looks forced. “Vanessa,” I say. “I’m… new here.”