La Diavolessa

Part 3 : Chapter 43

A wide grin pulls at Franco's lips, his curls bouncing a little as he nods his head. He didn't further anymore information as he drove through the streets, far from the commercial areas and the fancy places. His BMW stopped into a narrow street, with buildings wall to wall, old and poorly maintained. I looked across from the street where we parked and notice few girls leaning against a wall taking a smoke. From their attire, their expressions, the way they stood, I had no doubt what occupation they had.

I turn to Franco. "Is this one of the prostitution houses owned by Don Salvino?" I ask him.

His brows faintly furrow. "How do you know Don Salvino owns prostitution houses?"

"I overheard once that he did."

Franco shakes his head. "No. Don Salvino doesn't own any prostitution houses."

"Why are you denying it to me?"

"He doesn't, but he has a business partner who does." He sighs and leans back in his seat. "Isaak Maxim, provides the prostitutes to the clubs we own, and that." He points at the building, "Is a hostel for those girls, no business is conducted in there. They are over eighteen and they have working girls permit."

The prostitution law is very complex in Italy. Always debatable and changing. Right now, as long as the girls are over eighteen and have working permits as prostitutes they'll not be harassed by the authorities. I ease a breath as I tear my gaze away from the girls standing out of the building.

"Why are we here? I need to know why I'm backing you up."

He leans towards me and opens the compartment in front of me. He gets out a gun which he throws in my lap and a couple of knives. "Put these in your pockets just in case you need to use them."

I pick up the cold steel of the gun and check it out before I slip it into my pocket, and the knives follow in the other pocket. "Don Salvino will not like this?"

"He'll whip my ass if he finds out I brought you here." He grins unapologetic. "But you have no problem, right?"

"Are you going to kill someone?"

"I'll try not to." He switched off the car and opens his door.

I swallow wondering why I got myself into this. Yet I can't ignore the hum under my skin and the excitement which rose inside me. I get out and zip my coat. The weight of the weapons in the pockets heavy as I follow behind Franco. He greets the girls as he passes through door. They seemed to know him as they smile back, but then their smile fades as they notice me and give me a sullen look before they turn away.

We walk into a stuffy corridor, filled with more girls standing out of a line of doors which opened into small rooms with narrow beds. Some were just talking, others were sharing a magazine. Some sat on rickety looking chairs just staring blindly ahead at nothing in particular. Most of them looked they came from Eastern Europe, and there were few African girls in the mix. They greeted Franco as he walked by and looked at me cautiously when they notice me. I tried to smile to them, but they just look away.

I'm not a fan of sex exploitation. Those girls uneducated and untrained, came here looking for jobs. Others were forced into bondage because of loans they took. As I said the issue is very complex and politicians are still fighting over it in the senate, but at least for now they have a roof over their heads and food in their bellies.

Franco reaches the end of the corridor and push the door open. I notice immediately how his demeanor suddenly changes. His brown eyes turn darker, with a dangerous glint I only saw once when he attacked Volkov. I tense as I notice a big man in a white undershirt, stained yellow under the armpits. His skin pale, his head bald. The office was small and stuffy, with a stale odor of liquor and sweat.