CHAPTER SIXTEEN: WINTER
"We're just going back into the club as if there wasn't a shooting yesterday?" I ask Enzo with a frown on my face.
He glances down at me but only shrugs his shoulders. "Everything has been taken care of." He keeps his voice neutral, his eyes hard. "Vito is on it, and the cops are pretending to investigate as well. There's no reason to actually shut down."
I only stare at him, narrowing my eyes. "You know that's a load of bullshit, right?" I speak much more freely with Enzo than the others. He's frightening at times, but other than the one time, he's never threatened to hurt me for what comes out of my mouth. For one brief moment, I thought it was because he feels guilty about what Maximo did and what he covered up. But I'd quickly realized its because he has no problem ending our conversation if it crosses a line or he's annoyed.
"It's not for you to worry about." Case in point. He glances around us, but there's no one else in the alleyway. Still, he lowers his voice. "Your job is to find out what is going on in the club, nothing else."
"How am I supposed to do that if I'm waiting tables all night?"
"You'll figure it out." It seems to be what everyone thinks, that I'll just magically figure out what's going on when I don't actually have any skills to do so.
Before I can argue with Enzo, he pulls the door open.
I keep my shoulders straight as we move through the club, trying to keep my nerve about me. Enzo doesn't say a word and when we walk into the main part of the club, it's even busier than yesterday with everyone moving around and getting to work.
As if the club didn't get shot up yesterday.
I take a deep swallow, tilting my head slightly to look up at Enzo. He only raises a brow before making a gesture for me to get moving with his hands.
I head for the bar, looking for Dave or Todd. I don't spot either of them, so I lean against the bar and wait patiently. As I do, Enzo falls back into the corner of the club and I survey the workers. None of them stick out and as far I'm concerned they all look like good people.
None of them are holding me hostage like the Costas, at least, so that has to be worth something.
A woman passes by me and offers a brief, strained smile. Another pair walk past, whispering as they glance at me. When one of the bartenders I met yesterday nearly trips over her feet from staring at me so hard as she passes, I grow suspicious.
What the fuck is going on? Surely they aren't already onto me, are they?
"Well," a familiar voice says, bringing me out of my thoughts. "It seems the cat is out of the bag and yours is well penetrated by Costa dick."
"What?" I ask, blinking as I turn to look at Amarie.
She has on a tight fitting black dress and her curls are silky as they bounce as she approaches me. She offers me a smile, and unlike the other girl's hers is genuine. Amusement lights her eyes as she stares at me.
"What are you talking about?"
She lets out a laugh before her eyes flit around the club before moving back to me. "The rumor is you're fucking Giovnani Costa."
I shake my head, going to deny it before stopping as I remember that's what the rest of the staff are supposed to think. My skin heats up and I press my lips together tightly.
"Well?" Amarie asks raising a brow. "I mean it makes no difference to me, I think you're alright either way, but I'm nosy, so spill." She leans against the bar, raising a brow as she waits patiently for a response.
I inhale a sharp breath, trying to think of what to say.
If you're smart, you'll go along with the story you were given or face the fucking consequences.
I give a sharp nod and Amarie's eyes grow even brighter somehow. "I mean, I don't really want to talk about it," I tell her quickly.
"Because you're a low key girl?" she asks as her eyes trail down to my shoes with red bottoms. When I'd found them waiting on me earlier, I'd gotten a little dizzy. All the things I wished for at some point in life are being given to me, but the cost of my freedom isn't nearly worth it.
"Yes, I don't like attention." I rub at my arms, wishing she'd just drop the subject.
She laughs slightly, but her posture grows tighter. And this time when her eyes meet mine, they're narrowed. The spark that was there a moment ago is completely gone. Her eyes continue to study me and I shift uncomfortably. "Hmph," she finally says. "I'm not buying it."
My eyes snap to hers as my face heats up. "What aren't you buying?"
"This act." She waves a hand at me. My shoulders tense up. There's not anything necessarily threatening to her demeanor, but it is extremely off putting, a sharp contrast to the woman that I met yesterday. "This whole homely mistress to Giovanni Costa who likes to work even though she comes in here sporting Louboutin heels and a bodyguard that follows her every move."