𝐋𝐢𝐥𝐲 𝐎𝐟 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐕𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐲 | 𝟏𝟖+

LILY

03. DAMAGED CASE

"So he called me yesterday...last night."

I paused from stirring the pancake batter, shooting Mia a look. "You mean you didn't tell me this yesterday!" I prop my hand on my hip with a dramatic look. She giggled as I flip pieces of turkey bacon in the pan, the delicious smell filling my nose.

"Don't be like that, Lily; it was just after you called."

"Girl, please, if my friend is making arrangements, I need to know these things!" I exclaim.

"Lily, you're starting to sound like Chastity. And if you don't start stirring that batter, I would love to have pancakes before next year."

"Yeah yeah, so anyway, what's his name?" I press, bumping my hip with hers.

"Tom, and he is so kind and sweet to me. He's handsome and asked me out on a date; he said it's a surprise," Mia giggled like a little schoolgirl, swiping a strand of red hair behind her ear.

"Surprise?! But you hate surprises!" I say in disbelief.

"I know okay! I just couldn't resist, and he said to wear something, and I quote, something sexy for me." She attempts to deepen her voice in what I assume his voice sounds like.

I gave her the are you serious look before I muttered, "real charmer."

"Whatever."

Not long after we ate, we also had to prepare for our day shift. I decided to wear a Barbie pink fishnet bikini with high-waisted pink fishnet shorts that were slightly cut open in my lower abdomen. The material hugged my thick thighs and hips nicely. Thanking Mia for her handy work, she happened to braid my wig into long singles last night. Mia wore a wine-red bikini and thong combo accompanied by black fishnet tights. Her light dewy skin looks shiny under the light, and her eyes are fresh. She looks happy.

My lips curl into a soft smile. Mias' gaze shifted to me, returning the smile. We side-hugged and peered at our reflections in the large off-white vanity.

When we arrived, it was jam-packed, as usual. We had a schedule change and were told by our boss we didn't need to perform today, so we stuck to greeting guests and serving drinks. I initially interviewed to be a bottle girl or even a bartender, but my employer said she wanted me to try dancing, and I ended up loving it more than I anticipated.

As the night dragged on, a group of large men stepped in, and despite the loud music, everything seemed to become dim. I unintentionally made eye contact with the one in the front but quickly looked away, hoping I didn't embarrass myself. I return to wiping down tables when I hear a clear of a throat. I freeze for a moment, gradually turning around to see the same three men, but only one looks at me more intensely than the others.

"Can I help you?" I say cautiously.

"Do you know where the VIP lounge is?" The one in the front asked me with a thick accent. I pointed to the staircase to the right, where the private rooms are for special occasions.

"Up there to the right, and then take a left." I gaze at their attire and assume they're here for business. He nods in thanks, and his companions flank behind him.

I collect bottles and give them to the bartender when a girl, Tiffany, taps my shoulder with a pointy nail. "Did you see those men? What do you think they're here for?" the snap of her gum irked me by the second.

"Business, I suppose," I say with a shrug, loading more bottles into a tub.

I give her a stiff smile, bid her goodbye, and make my way toward the back. Before I entered the locker room, men clad in suits caught my attention. They turn a corner, and I discreetly follow them, staying in the shadows. I see them entering the last door in the hallway, locking it behind them.

As I walk to the door, I'm light on my feet, leaning my ear on it to listen. I couldn't catch everything, but I briefly heard things like money, more time, Xavier- wait-Xavier? Why is Xavier's name coming out of somebody's mouth? Maybe it's another Xavier. I pressed my whole body against the door to hear better, but the door unlocked before I could catch my stance.

I gain balance and frantically look around before seeing the utility closet. Throwing the door open, I trip on the carpet and land behind a shelf-silence embedded in the air beside my grunts of pain. Voices could be heard through the door, and I started to sweat nervously. From under the door, the shadows of their shoes seeped into the room from the brightly lit hallways.

"Fanculo quel pazzo bastardo deve voler morire" One voice says.

Another chuckled. "Sì, beh, una volta che Don si mette in contatto con lui, è morto." They all laugh at this before they go quiet. I could feel the rolls of sweat coming down my forehead every second as their presence lingered.

Another breaks the silence, sounding more profound this time. "È un peccato che Xavier sia dovuto andare così; comunque era ancora un anello debole. Ho sentito che ha una ragazza, mi chiedo cosa farà Royce con lei," someone said.

I back up accidentally too far, and my hip hits an unseen broom.

Thunk

It goes eerily quiet, and I panic, cursing myself for being so clumsy. I felt like I was suffocating in the small space, trapped. Slowly the door snapped open with a click. I remain in the shadows and conceal my breath with my hand. Another click made my eyes flinch.

A gun.

My chest caves in, and my eyes water; at this moment, I feel pathetic. I'm half-naked and hiding in a closet. I impatiently waited for something to happen and breathed a sigh of relief when a voice rang down the hallway.

"Ehi! andiamo avanti i don in attesa."

I waited for them all to walk away, but one lingered suspiciously. With a last lingering look, he stepped out and followed his companions. I tiptoed to the door once I knew they were far away, peeking out to ensure everyone was gone, and I raced to the locker room.

Once I'm safe, I hurry to change into my spare clothes. The whole incident threw off my mood, and I began to feel a bit queasy. I went to speak with my employer, Sarah, and she kindly allowed me to end my shift early. She's always treated me well. I didn't want to bother Mia or Chastity, so I just sent them a quick text saying I was sick and would see them later.

I caught a cab back to our shared apartment in Brooklyn, and my gut tightened at the thought of seeing Xavier. I push my feelings aside and try to put in a brave face, but as I enter, my meek smile turns into a horrified expression.

"What the hell is going on!"

Our living room was trashed as if a tornado had run through it. Blood littered the floor, walls, and in the middle of all the chaos was a bruised and battered Xavier tied up to a chair, face caked with blood to where he was almost unrecognizable.