Bend Me, Daddy

Chapter 162



Serafina What the fuck was Enzo doing here? I'd come into work expecting the usual-a night of delivering drinks to the girls and their clients while dodging anyone who got too grabby. Most of the men who frequented the club tended to blur the line of who was for sale and who wasn't. When I first started, I was told it came with the job and to figure out a way to deal with it. Of course, the outfits they put us in didn't help matters. But it was what it was. So I would smile, dodge hands, collect my tips, ignore my aching feet in these fucking heels, and then go back to Jade's and fall into bed. Or couch, as the case may be.

I did not expect to see the man I'd barely escaped once sitting at one of my tables, sunglasses hiding his thoughts as he stared down at his phone. According to Jade, he'd only been here once, and that was the first time she'd met him for a date. She always met her clients here the first time, so she could see what their vibe was before she went anywhere alone with them. And even then, she was prepared with pepper spray and a weekly self-defense class. It was one of the main reasons I'd filled in for her on that particular date the other night. I wanted to lose my virginity and then never see the guy again.

So when Rob told me someone was asking about me when I went up to the bar to collect my next order and he'd given me this drink to deliver, I didn't think much of it. That was par for the course when I worked in a place like this dressed like a blow-up doll.

I stared at Enzo across the table. "Aren't you angry with me for not showing up the other night?" I had disrespected him, and that wasn't something that went over well with someone like him.

"Yes. Extremely."

Oh.

Suddenly, he stood up from the table.

I stood up, too, picking up my tray. "I'm sure one of the other girls would be happy to be your date tonight if Jade isn't available." As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I wished I could take them back. It struck me that I didn't want to see him with another woman. Shocked at the sudden appearance of that ugly emotion, I immediately tried to shut that shit down. I had no claim on this man. And I didn't want any. Honestly, he scared me a little. And I wasn't the only one who felt that way. I saw the looks he was getting from the other patrons. The guy radiated danger like a strong cologne.

"I don't want a date," he told me. "I just need to talk to you. I'll go let them know you're leaving."

My heart skipped a beat, stopped, then took off again, racing so fast I got light-headed. Oh, fuck. He knows.

I didn't have to see his eyes to know this. "Oh." I needed time to figure out what I was going to say when he confronted me. "I get off at one if I'm not ordered to go clean out my locker before then. Can't we talk later? Tonight is usually a good tip night, and I really need the money."

He stared at me for a long moment as I tried to find his eyes behind the dark lenses. I couldn't tell if he was angry, or... what. Then he sat back down.

"What are you doing?"

"Waiting," he told me. "I'll take another whiskey, please."

Waiting. He was waiting. Fuck me. "Are you sure you don't have somewhere-"

"I'll wait, Sera. Another drink, please." He adjusted his jacket around him, crossed his legs, and leaned back in his chair with one arm on the table, his fingers tapping an impatient rhythm on the black tabletop. "You already have two on the table."

He raised one eyebrow above the top of his sunglasses.

Not knowing what else to do or say, I pivoted on my excruciatingly high heel and marched back to the bar. "I need another whiskey," I told Rob.

He slid a double across the bar with a scowl. "Tell Mr. Delligatti it's on the house. As a matter of fact, all of his drinks tonight will be coming out of your paycheck."

"What?" I stood there, frozen, with one hand wrapped around the drink. "It was a fucking accident, Rob."

"Tell that to Tom," was his response. "You're lucky he wasn't here yet to see that. And that I'm willing to put in a good word for you by telling him how you graciously offered to take care of the customer's tab and how pleased he was with your... service. I suggest you give him anything he wants."

He had me backed into a corner. I needed this job. Mostly because the entire premise of this club was discretion. People didn't talk here. Not to exes. Not to cops. Not even to people like my father's goons who would come looking for me if they heard I was in Austin. So I could work here and make some money. Money that would enable me to get farther away. Maybe even disappear completely.

When I left my father's house, I'd had nothing but the clothes on my back and a suitcase full of essentials. I'd never been allowed to have my own bank account. Or my own friends. I was only allowed to get my driver's license and a car because I convinced my father in one of his weaker moments that I would make someone a better wife if I had a college degree, and it would be easier and less conspicuous to his enemies if I could just drive myself to class like any other college kid. It had taken some doing, but I finally managed to talk him into it. And I thanked god every day that I did. After I'd graduated and held my degree in my hands, my life went back to being cooped up in our house surrounded by guards, waiting for the day my father sold me to some old man so he could up his own rank within the family.

And during that entire time, I was the perfect daughter. I did as I was told. I went with him to functions filled with criminals and I smiled and kept my eyes down and my mouth shut so I didn't catch hell when we got home. I did as little as possible to call attention to myself, from my father or anyone else. It was the only way I'd known to stay alive.


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