You’d think after three years of this shit, I’d have learned to block it out, do whatever was necessary to survive, but I hadn’t. And now he owed money to the Bratva. I didn’t know what they’d expect of me, and I fought hard not to throw up. I’d heard stories, and knew they owned several brothels around town. Would I be forced to work in one? Getting handed out by my uncle was bad enough, but having to do that every night for the rest of my life? I’d sooner slit my wrists, which was probably why he’d made sure I was never alone.
I didn’t understand how something like this could happen. Fifty years ago, a hundred years ago, but now? It seemed that greed would always rule the world. And people like me would always get kicked to the bottom.
“Perhaps you should get ready, Imogen,” Uncle Sean said. “The Bratva will be sending men by shortly.”
I gave a jerky nod and walked off, with my two shadows following. When I reached my room, I didn’t bother trying to shut the door. I knew it wouldn’t do any good. Going into the bathroom, I started the shower and removed my clothes, ignoring my uncle’s man as he leered at me. The other kept an eye on the room to ensure I didn’t have an escape route. I took my time washing, hiding behind the dark blue shower curtain, until the water started to cool. Wrapping a towel around my hair and another around my body, I hesitated only a moment before I yanked the curtain open and stepped out.
It took me over an hour to smooth lotion into my skin, dry and curl my hair, and put on just enough make-up to accent my eyes and lips but not enough that it looked caked on. I couldn’t do anything about the bruises on my hips or the scars on my back, but no one ever seemed to care about any marks on my body. I doubted the Bratva would be any different.
I slipped on the sapphire dress that had an open back to my waist, and hardly had anything up top in the front, then stepped into a pair of heels. Giving myself one final look in the mirror, making sure not a hair was out of place, I went downstairs to greet our… guests. As I neared the front entry, I stalled. My heart was hammering in my chest and I struggled to draw a breath. I couldn’t remember being this scared before, but these men, the Bratva, they were known for taking whatever they wanted. I’d heard about women being snatched off the streets, drugs being pushed into the hands of children, and much worse.
A shove at my back had me moving once more. I walked into the front parlor and stopped in the doorway. There were four men with my uncle, ones I hadn’t met before.
“Pavel, this is my niece, Imogen. Beautiful, isn’t she?” Uncle Sean said.
The man he’d called Pavel barely scanned his gaze over me before turning away. My heartrate picked up again. If he didn’t want me, if they denied the offer my uncle made, then I would be the one to pay the price. He’d be infuriated and beat the hell out of me.
“Something wrong with my niece?” my uncle asked, his tone getting icy.
“Pavel is happily married,” one of the others said. “Complimenting another woman would feel like a betrayal of his wife.”
“I see,” said Uncle Sean. He glanced at me before returning his gaze to the others. “And the rest of you?”
“Single.” One of them undressed me with his eyes. “And yes, she’s stunning.”
“You know why we’re here,” Pavel said. “And it’s not for a social visit. There was no need to bring your niece downstairs.”
The way the man said niece made it clear he thought I was a whore. And he wasn’t wrong. It hadn’t been by choice, but it’s what my uncle had turned me into over the last three years.
My uncle snapped his fingers and I went to him, knowing what would come next. I drew in a shaky breath as I stopped at his side and waited.
“You owe us a considerable sum, Mr. Byrnes. We’ve come to collect. If you don’t have the money, then…” Pavel shrugged a shoulder.
I could only imagine what that meant. They’d break my uncle’s legs, or possibly kill him. Then again, I knew my uncle wouldn’t go down without a fight, and he’d offer them me, and anything else they wanted, if he was unable to pay.
“I don’t have your money,” Uncle Sean said. “But I would like to offer something else.”
“You have nothing we want,” Pavel said with his thick accent.
My uncle snapped his fingers again and I swallowed hard, then reached for the straps of my dress, letting the garment pool at my feet. I stood before them, bare, and unable to look any of them in the eye.
“What is the meaning of this?” Pavel demanded.
“My niece as payment for what I owe,” Uncle Sean said. “You can all take a turn with her. Or take her at the same time. Matters little to me. She’ll do as she’s told.”
Pavel started spitting out words in what I assumed to be Russian. I looked up and my eyes went wide at the fury in his eyes. He came toward my uncle, his hand drawn back, but one of the others stopped him. A man who appeared a bit younger than Pavel. His golden blond looks were striking. Except for the blank look in his eyes. Looking into the blue depths, I saw nothing. There was a void where emotion should have shone.
“Nyet. Don’t do this, Pavel,” the other man said.
“It’s like Rianne all over again,” he muttered.
I didn’t know who Rianne was, but it sounded like they’d been made an offer like this
