“Gentleman’s club like with old fat men sitting around smoking cigars and chilling together in a sauna?”
Giovanni laughs heartily, the sound making me smile. “Well, they range in age and body type, and while many do smoke cigars, there is no sauna. However, we do have a bar, several hot tubs, and an outdoor and indoor pool.”
“So…she hangs out with them? Waitresses?” Why is he making me practically beg for answers?
“Natalie, as well as several other women who work for me, hang out with the men, yes. But no, she’s not a waitress.”
“Okay… so what do they do with them? I don’t get it.” Geez! It’s like pulling teeth with this guy. Then it hits me…Holy shit! A gentleman’s club. A sex club. No way!
Giovanni rubs the stubble on his chin. He looks frustrated, so I try a different approach, needing to know if my suspicions are correct. “Are we at your house?”
“I live here, yes.”
“But is it your house?”
“Usually we refer to it as the club.”
“Okay, is the club where you live?”
“Yes.”
Now I’m desperate to know if I’m living in a damn sex club. Taking the tray that’s on my lap, I set it aside and pull back the blankets.
“What are you doing?” He stands, looking perplexed.
“You obviously aren’t going to answer me, so I’m going to go check this place out myself. I was stuck in a basement for almost a year. I’d like to know where I’m being forced to stay.” Slowly standing, I use the edge of the bed to help me.
“Sit down, please, or I’m going to be forced to handcuff you again,” Giovanni says in a demanding tone, which only makes me want to leave that much more. I’ve spent the last year being held down. Nobody is ever going to tell me what to do again, if I have anything to say.
“No, thank you.” I walk as fast as my broken body can go toward the door. Giovanni beats me there, putting his hand over the handle. My body tenses, suddenly feeling claustrophobic.
“Move. Now.” My heart begins to beat faster.
“Calm down.” Giovanni puts his hands out and palms up in a placating motion when he sees me starting to freak out. “If I have to lock you up in here, I will. You need to understand your place in this.”
“My place?” I bite out.
“For now, and until further notice, you’ll be staying here. You will go nowhere without one of my men or me.”
“And if I run?” I challenge.
“I will find you and bring you back here and you will regret it.” Giovanni’s voice is cold, detached. It reminds me of the night he showed up wanting to talk to Weston. “And if I don’t find you, which I will, Weston will be after you. Would you rather go back to the basement?” His brow quirks up in a challenging manner.
Oh, hell no. “Don’t you dare threaten me with going back there!” I jab my finger into his chest to emphasize my point and he looks down at it in shock then back up at me.
“Okay, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that,” he concedes.
“Thank you. Don’t let it happen again.” He grants me a lopsided grin, but I remain serious. “Why don’t you want me knowing what you do for a living?” I come back around to my initial question, refusing to let him off the hook.
“It’s not that I don’t want you knowing…” Giovanni runs his hands over his face in frustration. “I will explain it to you and then I’ll show you.”
With my hands on my hips, I raise my eyebrows. “Okay, tell me. But move away from the door.”
Giovanni moves out of the line of my exit. Smart move, buddy. “Rome is outside the door anyway.” He smirks. Fucker. “This type of gentleman’s club allows sex.” I knew it!
“Like a whorehouse?”
“I prefer the term bordello.”
“What’s a bordello?”
“I suppose in Italian it means whorehouse, but these women aren’t whores in the negative use of the term. They are escorts.”
“Do they get paid to have sex?”
“Yes, extremely well.”
“So, they are high-class prostitutes?”
“Escorts.”
“Are they here by choice?”
“Of course. Did Natalie look like she’s being held here against her will?”
I blanch at his words. “No, I didn’t mean to insinuate you are forcing them into sex, but you are holding me here against my will.”
Giovanni sighs. “Why don’t we sit down and eat lunch? We can talk, and afterward, I can give you a tour of the place.”
“Okay.” Instead of sitting on the bed, I take my soup and sandwich to the sitting room to eat at the table. “I feel like I’ve been in that bed for months,” I say as way of explanation.
Giovanni sits across from me with his food. After a few minutes of eating in silence, he starts talking. “Have you thought anymore about why Weston had you locked up?”