Odessa

chapter 29 - red II

"You're in the back room. Follow me." The man says, looking relieved as he sees me.

I follow him to a -attempted to be- hidden door next to the booths. The smell of cigars, sex and fresh money fills my nose and I cringe as he leads me up a short set of steps.

Stopping at the end of a curtain covered hallway, he speaks to the two very clearly Italian men standing outside, "Anastasia for Mr Moretti."

They nod, looking me over as I step slowly through a set of curtains.

The room is covered in cheap red velvet and fake leather. The room set up in a circle shape, I look to the left of me, seeing Aldo seated with a cigar hanging out of his mouth and a wad of cash next to him.

He always reeked of stale cigars. I think he always thought they made him look tougher, or older. But whatever he thought he was doing, he wasn't. Because he was still a 30 year old man-child with severe mommy issues.

Although I would much rather not know that information, right now, it's a card I'm willing to play.

"Mr Moretti, it's a pleasure to finally meet you." I say, sweetening up my voice as I sit myself down next to him, pulling my hair to expose one side of my neck.

I feel my hands shake as I sit so close to him, the smell of cheap of cologne and cigars bringing back memories I can't be thinking about right now.

I put a hand behind his neck, slowly playing with his hair and trying not to throw up.

"And you, Anastasia." His accent not nearly as thick as his fathers, yet his voice still sends every message to my brain to get the fuck out of there. "I make an effort to introduce myself to all my new dancers... especially ones that look like you."

I chuckle, his hand moving over to my thigh, "And I hope you don't mind, just a few of my men will be outside."

"Oh I don't mind at all. Safety is important, especially for a man of such expensive taste, such as yourself." I say, smiling as I cross my legs, forcing out his hand.

"You flatter me, Anastasia."

"Please, call me Ana."

"Well Ana, call me Aldo." He whispers, leaning closer.

I look around the room, desperate for a way to get him away.

"Champagne?" I ask, leaning back, spotting the glasses and bottle on the table on the other side of the couch.

He puts a hand out toward the bottle and I smile, standing.

"So, Mr Moretti, how did you end up with a club like this? I assume you live in the city?" I ask, pouring the glasses.

"It has been in my family for a while, passed down to the eldest son. And I used to, I have been travelling a lot more recently, however."

I nod, acting fascinated, "I wish I could travel more, any reason for it?"

I hand him a glass, his eyes glued to my body as I stand before him.

"There's been some... complications in my business recently. That's all."

Did I just get called a complication?

I go to sit down, but he stops me, grabbing me by my wrist, harshly.

I wince, a subtle smirk on his face as he watches my reaction.

"Enough questions," He takes the glass out of my hand, drinking both, "It's time to do what I'm paying you for."