My hands were tied, people got whatever they wanted from me because I was the only one advocating for these girls. I was the only person standing between this being ugly and turning vile.
I kept things ugly because I know what it’s like to survive vile.
Looking up at Chevy on her phone with her boots once again kicked up on the desk, I couldn’t help but see the features that reminded me of Eve. Nothing else resembled her, they were two very different people, and her attitude was as sharp as a damn knife.
I was always saving anyone who resembled Eve and Chevy was just one of them.
Two months ago
I always stood in the shadows, hood up and low, making sure to cover my face whenever I showed up to oversee shipments.
Of people, not things.
I was truly there to be the buffer for anyone mishandling the product—the girls—which boiled down to Donte. He was as gentle as a fucking loaded gun aimed at your temple with a finger squeezing the trigger.
Most nights the girls were scared, shaking, and already broken. Most nights were repetitive, and I would hide in the shadows waiting for something to go wrong.
Chevy was a wrench in the machine, blending in until she didn’t. She waited for the perfect moment to lash out, using her tied hands as a fucking mallet against Donte’s tight grip.
I perked up, watching the raven-haired beauty fight back in all the ways I didn’t when I was in her place.
She was too small to actually overpower anyone when Donte’s hand wrapped around her throat, pinning her against the van, forcing me to step in. Her eyes shined in the dark, and the gleam almost touched my soul.
Almost.
My soul was impenetrable; it was a nice try though.
“Let her go. I’ll handle her,” I said it from the shadows, taking small steps forward until Donte’s anger unlatched from her throat.
I was above his pay grade. He was the muscle, but I was the funds.
Wrapping my fingers around the handcuffs, I could see her body shaking in the dirty clothes she must have been wearing for a week by the smell of her. Walking forward, I dragged her behind me to my office before I offered her the same kindness I had given countless girls before her.
My cage or Donte’s heavy hand.
They always resembled Eve in the way my mind had pictured her all grown up.
Now I didn’t need to wonder, I had been courting Eve for a year, but it didn’t change anything when I didn’t know my Eve anymore.
All I knew were these girls who looked just as broken as Eve did when she was dragged away to Denmark.
Chevy wasn’t the first girl I saved. I never noticed, but Donte started to see a pattern that I took a liking towards raven hair and bright eyes.
Scrubbing my hands over my face, I threw my phone across the room, watching it hit the wall with so much force that Chevy snapped upright with a terrified look taking over her normal scowl.
Standing up, she stepped over the threshold dividing us and walked over to the bar cart that wasn’t for show—it was used plenty, and Chevy replaced the bottles almost daily. Dropping another glass next to mine, she pulled the cap off and poured two shots.
She was too smart for her own good.
She knew more than anyone by eavesdropping, playing dumb, and studying me in ways no one else did.
Chevy saw something other than the demon.
“Rough morning, boss?” She offered some kind of comfort, but the drink was enough. She hated Donte as much as I did.
If anyone earned a spot in my mangled heart, it was Chevy. She deserved better as much as Eve did, but I had no choice in condemning her soul. At least I could save hers.
Get her out before I have enough courage to burn it all down.
“Just close the door on your way out.” Turning around, I stared at the blacked-out window, trying to dismiss her. Taking the hint, she placed my now cracked phone back on my desk before I heard the door close softly behind her. I exhaled trying to swallow the emotion stinging the back of my eyes.
Taking another sip, I dehydrated the shit out of those tears.
Passing out at work from over serving myself wasn’t unheard of. When I looked at my phone it was already way past after hours, and a shipment was due to come through Sins & Forgiveness. Whatever problems we had with the Romeos around the world would wait because there were more girls to serve up on a silver platter in exchange for a wire transfer.
Romeos were the ones grooming the girls who weren’t just stolen the way Chevy was. No, these girls were a different breed. Troublemakers and innocents alike—all raised by the powerful, and all products of the rich.
Did you think celebrities just marry the elite by chance?
Did you think washed up actresses just fall into the hands of elite families?
Where did you think all the ones go that are just too much trouble?
Through us.
All roads lead to the Clave.
No one was off limits. You could be like Chevy—the ones who don’t expect it that will be sacrificed or trafficked or be like the others who get sent to “reform programs” because they need to be taught a lesson.
Standing up, I pushed the bottle to my lips and swallowed the rest of the big gulp left at the bottom of the bottle before I grabbed my keys from the desk. I had somewhere to be, and if I was a better man, I would get so drunk that the lines on the road blurred and I could send myself to hell.
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